 
Second Chance

Misty Reigenborn

Copyright 2011

By Misty Reigenborn

Smashwords Edition

This book is dedicated to my children. I love you and always will, no matter what.
A New Life

She was outside sneaking a cigarette before her daughter came home from school when he showed up. She saw him coming to the front door from her usual place on the side of the house and almost choked on the last drag of her cigarette. After all these years, he'd finally found them.

Shit was her immediate thought. She had to get Christiana from school. She looked at her watch. Nope, too late, her daughter was already on the bus on her way home. What the hell was she going to do? She couldn't call the police. She'd never reported any of the things he'd done to her, so why would they believe she had reasonable cause to fear the father of her child?

The child that she'd kept away from him for almost twelve years now. Christiana had been almost two when she'd taken off. Her aunt, who was now dead, was the only one who had known what Brady had put her through. She was the only reason they were able to escape and start a new life.

Looking at the man she'd thought she'd loved from the moment she'd laid eyes on him, she felt a cold stab of fear. How had he found them? Was he here to do what he'd threatened to do more times than she could count she wondered?

He was still knocking and the bus was going to be coming down the street any minute now.

What would she do if Christiana got off of the bus and saw him? Would he recognize the daughter that looked so much like him, even after so many years? She didn't recognize her daughter sometimes, with her hair color of the week and her three different sets of colored contacts.

Her daughter's hair was a dark red with a streak of blue now. She sometimes wondered how long it had been since she'd felt that young.

Finally he turned away, and walked down the street to a dark colored sedan. He looked good she thought. Older of course, but he didn't seem to be drunk or high or seeing red with anger, like he'd been so much of the three years that they'd been together.

She glanced at her watch again. Christiana, who had been named as Jennifer Marie Shipley on her birth certificate, would be home in about five minutes. That is, if she didn't get off the bus at one her friends' houses without asking or with the boy she wanted so badly to go to the movies with.

Carina, who had been Sarah Michelle Rawlins, wouldn't let her go.

Carina thought that not quite fourteen was too damned young to be going out with boys. Of course, she'd prefer that her daughter not date until she was thirty-five, but that wasn't going to happen.

She lit another cigarette, smoking only half, and then went and sat on the front steps. The bus was coming, but it wasn't slowing down.

What if she'd gotten off with Noelle and Brady had passed them? Christiana had stopped asking questions about her father a while ago, but if Brady happened to see her and her friend walking down the street, and he had driven off in the same direction she'd be walking if she was going to Noelle's house, would he stop them?

Was he on the lookout for teenage girls, looking for the now mostly grown child that he'd always called his baby girl?

She dialed her daughter's cell phone. It rang three times and then Christiana answered.

"We're on our way. Noelle's coming over to do homework."

"I'd prefer it if you asked first."

"Mom. I need help and you tell me all the time that the way they teach things in school now is a lot different than when you were in school."

It was true she thought. She felt ancient when she tried to help her daughter with her homework. They were teaching some of the same things that she'd learned, but in a way that made everything unduly complicated, at least in her mind.

"It's fine if Noelle comes over. Is she staying for dinner?"

Noelle's parents both worked late and she was on her own most nights until 7 or 8.

"Yeah. Can we get pizza?"

"Yeah. You're coming straight home right?"

"Yeah Mom."

She could almost see her daughter rolling her eyes.

"We're like two blocks away."

"Okay."

She wanted to ask Christy if she'd seen any cars, any strange men, but couldn't bring herself to do it. How could she bring up to her daughter that she'd seen her father, that he had been at their house, she wondered? How was she going to avoid him? How had he found them?

She'd changed their names, dyed and cut her hair more times than she could count and had a couple different sets of colored contacts herself. She could hardly blame her daughter for reinventing herself every other week.

"I'll see you when I get home Mom, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

"Yeah you too."

Christiana hung up. She sat back and wondered what she was going to do.

She didn't want to tear Christiana away from her life. They'd moved a lot when she was young, five or six times before she'd started school. But it had only been three times after that. They'd been here for four years now.

They'd been lucky. Her aunt had bankrolled their moves in exchange for a month with Christy every summer. Christy had loved Aunt Mona almost as much as she had, though she hoped her daughter never fully had to comprehend what Mona had done for them.

What excuse could she give her daughter for leaving? Her job? That had been the excuse a couple of times before, but she did most of her work at home now, so Christiana probably wouldn't buy it.

Her parents were both dead, and she had no brothers and sisters so she couldn't explain it away with a family emergency. If only it were summer, they could just pick up and go on vacation for a month or so. Maybe Brady would have given up by the time they got back.

What did he want she thought? They'd never been married. He'd told her a thousand times that he didn't believe the baby was his.

Christy and Noelle were coming up the block. The girls both waved. She tried to look nonchalant as she scanned the street behind them, looking for Brady's car. She hadn't been able to see what state the plates were from. And she had no idea what kind of car it was.

She followed the girls into the house, locking the door behind them, still racking her brain for what the hell she was going to do. She knew Brady would be back, she just hoped it wasn't when Christy was home.

Carina couldn't ignore him forever, and wondered if he'd been able to get a hold of their unlisted phone numbers. But Christy would mention it if she'd received a strange phone call right? Carina certainly hoped so.

She peeked out the curtain, breathing a sigh of relief when the only car she saw on the street was their neighbor coming home from work.

"Are you being paranoid again Mom? Is that guy bothering you?"

She'd almost forgotten about the man that she'd went out on one date with and had called her incessantly for months afterwards.

"No. It's fine honey. How was school?"

Christiana shrugged. "The usual."

There was a lot about her life that Christy didn't share with her anymore. She felt her slipping further and further away everyday it seemed. How would her daughter feel about her father being in town?

She'd told Christy that she and her dad hadn't gotten along, and her little girl had always lived with it. She'd forged birthday cards a couple of years when the questions had gotten more frequent, but then she'd gotten older and had more important things to worry about. Like the boy that she wanted to go to the movies with. He was a smart kid, polite, but he had green hair and a nose ring and talked about getting a tattoo as soon as he was sixteen.

Carina went into the kitchen to try to do some work, where she could still keep an eye on the girls.

She was absorbed in her work half an hour later when Christy said "Mom. Are you going to order the pizza?"

"Sorry. What kind do you want?"

"Supreme."

Carina wondered how her daughter had somehow inherited her father's taste in food as she placed the order online. It was set to be delivered in forty-five minutes.

When the doorbell rang a little over half an hour later, Carina jumped. Christy started to get up, but she stopped her. "I'll get it."

Christy rolled her eyes and said "Whatever," exchanging a look with Noelle that clearly said 'parents are weird'.

She peeked out the curtain and could see a beat up car with the pizza place logo on top.

She breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door.

The teenage boy handed her the pizza and the credit card slip to sign and said "Hi, Christy. Hey Noelle."

She signed and added a tip and then took the warm boxes from him. When the door was closed, the girls helped themselves to slices and took them back to the living room, chattering about the boy.

"Plates please girls," she called out.

It would have been a normal night if not for the appearance of Brady. The girls were arguing about who was better looking, the kid that had delivered the pizza, who was two grades ahead of them and named Kurt, or the boy that Christy wanted to go out with, Locke. Noelle shared Carina's opinion that Locke was nice, but a little weird, and thought Kurt was better looking, but Christy stuck to her guns.

When they'd finished eating and homework was done, Carina said she'd give Noelle a ride home.

Noelle declined, because it was only a few blocks away, but Carina insisted. She didn't want her daughter's friend out alone at night when Brady might be lurking around.

When they were home Christy asked. "So what's up Mom? You're acting weird."

"Nothing hon. I promise."

Christy looked at her hard. Her daughter didn't believe her.

She'd tried to be as honest with her daughter as she felt she could, but she still had to figure out how she was going to handle this.

"Do you have a boyfriend or something?"

"No."

She'd dated very few men in the past twelve years, and none of them had been serious.

"Maybe you should get one. You're still young. What are you going to do when I go to college?"

That was something she didn't want to face, because she honestly had no idea.

"I'll be fine Christy."

"No you won't. You've got to live a little Mom. Noelle's Dad has this really hot friend that just got divorced. Well, I mean he's hot for an old guy. They want us to come over for a barbecue next weekend. He's gonna be there."

"We'll see."

"C'mon Mom. It'll be fun."

"I will think about it Christy."

"I'm never going to have a little brother or sister am I?"

Usually she'd just laugh off that comment, but now she wondered. Did Brady have other children?

"I don't know honey. Don't you think it's time for bed?"

Christy looked at the clock and rolled her eyes again. She rolled her eyes when she didn't know she was doing it she did it so often.

"It's barely after 9."

Knowing that her daughter would probably go upstairs, turn her light out and log onto her laptop and talk to her friends or text message with Noelle or another one of their little group, but really wanting a cigarette, she said "I know. But you have school in the morning."

"Fine. Goodnight Mom. Don't smoke too many cigarettes."

"Ha ha."

"I thought you quit."

"I did."

"No you didn't. I smelled it on you earlier. I know that's why you want to get rid of me."

"Okay -fine. I admit it. Goodnight honey."

"Night Mom. Hey, Noelle's Dad showed his friend I think his name is Clark, a picture of you. He thinks you're hot."

Carina shook her head. "Not the one I think it is."

"Yep."

Noelle's family had a pool. Carina hadn't bothered to try on her new swimsuit before she'd brought it over to their house last summer for a swim. It was a lot more revealing than it had looked in the store. Noelle's father Andy had snapped a picture of her which she'd begged him to delete. He apparently never had.

Christy was smiling.

"I wish I'd never bought that damned suit."

"You looked good Mom. You never buy stuff like that. You wear clothes like you're my grandma instead of my mom. I think you're gorgeous."

"Thank you sweetie."

"I just hope my boobs get as big as yours and that I don't get fat."

Carina stifled a laugh. "Goodnight Christiana."

"Night Mom. I love you."

"Love you too honey. Don't stay up too late and no talking to Locke."

"Mom. Come on. You won't let me go out with him, even with a bunch of other kids. What does it hurt for me to talk to him online? Are you going to let him come to my birthday party?"

Christy's birthday was in two weeks. She was begging to let boys from her class come. Locke was first on her list of course.

"I said I'll think about it Christy."

"Hey, if you hit it off with Clark he can help you chaperone."

Carina picked up one of the pillows from the couch and threw it at her. "Go to bed."

Christiana laughed and then went up the stairs.

Once her daughter was in her room, she opened the back door and lit a cigarette. She didn't want to go all the way outside because it got very dark on the side of the house. Brady had had a way of creeping up on her when she wasn't paying attention.

Another thing that Christy had inherited from him.

Smoking was a habit she hated even more because she'd picked it up from Brady. She'd shared her first cigarette with him after she'd lost her virginity to him.

He hadn't started hitting her until Christy was about 9 months old. It had been a once and a while thing at first. He'd smacked her with a spoon on the backs of her legs and her arms because she couldn't get the spaghetti to cook the way he liked it. He'd been drunk at the time, close to the point of a blackout. When he'd seen the bruises the next time they'd made love, he'd asked her where they'd come from.

He hadn't broken any of her bones and he'd never sent her to the hospital, but she'd had more black eyes and fat lips than she could count. And she felt like he'd taken away all her hopes and dreams.

She was going to stay at home and take care of their daughter and that was that. He wanted more kids, but she was so afraid that he'd hurt her when she was pregnant that she'd gotten birth control and had hidden it from him.

The worst nights were when he was so drunk and high that he'd go into some kind of a weird flashback of some scene that hadn't happened in his life, what she called his past life moments. He'd drag her and Christy out all hours of the night on some quest that was known only to him.

He didn't know who she was on those nights. Most of the time she was the enemy, though interestingly enough, those were not the nights when he'd threatened to take her life.

Those had been nights when she'd begged him to stop drinking, when she'd threatened to leave him, when she told him she wouldn't marry him until he went to rehab, when she told him that she didn't want another child.

Towards the end, he had hit her on a daily basis and she couldn't take it anymore. If he would have raised a hand to Christy, she would have left long before she did, but he was always good to Christy. She was his pride and joy, the apple of his eye, his baby girl.

She'd been cowering in bed one morning after he'd left for work. Christy had toddled in and said "Mommy hurt."

Yes, Mommy had been hurt. Another black eye, a split lip, a lump on her head and a big bite mark on her arm from a few nights before when she'd been tired and hadn't wanted to get up and make him something to eat at 3 o'clock in the morning when he'd finally come home from the bar.

She'd called her Aunt Mona that morning and told her she needed to get away. Mona had rented them a house halfway across the country from Brady in a town he'd never heard of and had arranged for the paperwork to be drawn up to change their names.

She'd cut and dyed her hair that morning as soon as he left for work and then packed all their possessions in the trunk of her car. She'd had to wait until after his lunch break to leave because he always called home. If she didn't answer the phone, he would come home and demand to know where she'd been, what she'd been doing in front of their daughter.

They'd moved around so much when Christy was little because she'd get a feeling sometimes, it was almost as if she could feel him breathing down the back of her neck. She knew if he found them, he would kill her and take Christy away. But this was the first time he'd actually showed up.

Why now Carina wondered again? She only had a little over four years left until Christy left home. Then she felt she could face Brady any day.

They were comfortable now, but there were times when she'd had to work two jobs and borrow a lot more money than she wanted to from Mona.

It took her a long time to fall asleep that night. She tossed and turned thinking of her nights with Brady, nights when he wouldn't come home, nights she'd prayed that he wouldn't come home.

When Christy's alarm clock went off, she groaned. Her daughter was not a morning person and took forever to get ready for school in the morning. She wanted to pull the blanket over her head and go back to sleep herself.

She knocked on Christy's door and her daughter called out "Five more minutes Mom."

"No. You'll be late for the bus or you'll end up skipping breakfast again. If you didn't stay up so late talking to the same friends that you talk with all day at school, you wouldn't be so tired in the morning."

"Yeah, yeah," Christiana said.

But she heard the bathroom door open, which meant she was out of bed at least.

She'd given Christy the master bedroom because her daughter spent three times as long in the bathroom as she did.

She went downstairs and started a pot of coffee, wondering if she had time for a cigarette.

She shook her head at herself. She was getting addicted again and that was definitely not good.

She popped two bagels in the toaster and got the cream cheese out of the fridge.

If she could get Christy to eat in the morning that was usually the most she could get her to eat.

By the time Christiana came down forty-five minutes later after much prompting, she was only a few minutes away from missing the bus.

"See ya Mom."

Carina shook her head. "You're skipping breakfast again."

"I gotta go Mom. Love you."

"Love you too."

She went to the front door and watched her daughter rush down the street and barely catch the bus before it pulled off. But there was no sign of Brady, so that was something at least.

She went outside and smoked a cigarette, intent on the neighborhood traffic. Still no sign of Brady, just the usual parents taking kids to school and people going off to their daily lives. She went back in the house and got to work.

The day passed quickly. It was lunchtime before she knew it. She made herself a sandwich and watched part of a ridiculous talk show, before deciding to go upstairs and take a nap.

A loud knock at the door awoke her a little after two p.m. Heart beating fast, she walked slowly down the stairs. The knocking had stopped. When she peeked out the curtain, there was a package sitting on the doorstep.

She laughed she was so relieved, checked the street one more time and then opened the door. It was the software that they'd sent her from work. She shut the door quickly and went through the process of installing it on her computer.

Christy was home on time, though she went straight up to her room and didn't come out until dinnertime.

She'd had a fight with Odessa, her best friend of the moment. She thought that Odessa had her sights set on Locke which Odessa denied.

Carina preferred when she hung out with Noelle. At least Noelle was level headed and she was a better influence on Christy than most of the other girls she hung out with.

They rented a movie on pay per view, and then both went up to their rooms early.

A week passed. She conceded and went to the barbecue at Noelle's with Christy. Clark was a nice enough guy. He was very good looking, but Carina's mind couldn't help but drift back to Brady.

She didn't think that he'd give up. She knew he'd be back and she didn't want to involve anyone else in what she figured would be a hell of a situation.

Christy called her chicken when she told Clark that she couldn't go out with him and invited him to dinner at their house. Clark raised an eyebrow and asked if it was okay with her mother. Carina, not wanting to feel like a complete bitch, said it was fine.

He came over on the Wednesday before Christy's birthday, bringing flowers and the ice cream cake that Christy always begged her for for dessert. They had a nice time, but she put him off again when he asked her to the movies.

Christy rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath about the last time her mother had gotten laid. Carina wanted to strangle her, and almost did when she invited Clark to her birthday party. He looked to her again. She hid a sigh and told him it was fine, that she could use the company and the sanity with all the teenagers she was going to have in her house.

She'd finally agreed to let Christy invite a few boys from her class, against her instincts.

Her daughter was growing up way too fast.

The party was mostly good. Noelle's parents came by. They had a few drinks. She was pleasantly buzzed until she went outside for a cigarette and found Christiana in a lip lock with Locke.

She almost blew up, but Clark followed her out and broke the kids up. She ended up in a lip lock of her own at the end of the night.

Noelle, Odessa, a girl named Simone she'd never met before and Clarice, the first friend that Christy had made when they'd moved to town that she barely saw anymore, all spent the night.

She was up half the night, listening to four fourteen-year-old girls giggle and talk about boys.

They were playing a game of who would you rather kiss. She pulled her pillow over her head when they started naming the teachers at their school.

Monday, she talked to Clark on the phone after Christiana left for school. They made a date for Friday.

In the afternoon, there was a knock on the door. She was expecting a lunch delivery and had almost forgotten about Brady, so she opened it without hesitation.

And stood face to face with the father of her child.

She almost shut the door in his face, but couldn't because the guy from the sandwich shop was standing behind him. He stood aside while she paid for her lunch and then just stood there and looked at her.

He looked tired, and he needed to shave. She could remember the scratchy feel of his stubble as he kissed her. She swallowed hard and instead of going back inside, sat on a chair on the porch.

"It's been a long time Sarah. Oh, I'm sorry. It's Carina now right?" She nodded. "And Jennifer is Christiana."

She felt nauseous. He was talking in a normal tone of voice, seemed perfectly calm, but she was used to the rage that could coil his body from head to toe even when he looked relaxed.

"Brady."

"Listen Sarah, I mean Carina, I just can't get used to thinking of you as anything but Sarah. I didn't come here to start trouble. I didn't come here to make your life hell. I came here to see my daughter. I want to be a part of her life."

She was livid. What right did he have to think he deserved to be a part of Christiana's life after all that he'd done to her she wondered?

He held up his hand. "I know. I know. We didn't have the best relationship."

She wanted to laugh. They hadn't had the best relationship. She pulled a cigarette from the pack hidden underneath the porch swing and lit it. She couldn't believe he was sitting here on her porch talking to her like they were old friends.

He sighed. "You have no idea what my life has been like for the past few years. I know that I treated you like shit, but Jennifer was my life. I stayed awake nights, wondering if my baby was okay. You've never had that feeling have you?"

She had to give him that. The only times that Christiana had been away from her other than staying at friends' houses was when she was with Mona, and there hadn't been anyone in the world that she'd trusted more with her daughter than Mona. She shook her head slowly.

"You're right. I haven't."

"I'm not saying that you deserve to know that feeling. You were always a wonderful mother and I'm sure you've done a good job raising her by yourself. But I've changed Sarah. I'm a different man now. I have to be a part of my daughter's life before she's grown. Please."

She didn't correct him on the name, though she hadn't felt like Sarah in a really long time.

Lots of people said that they'd changed, but how could she believe him she wondered? He could be perfectly rational when he wasn't drinking. He could be a caring lover and the perfect father, but he could also be the monster hiding in your closet before you noticed the scene had changed.

He looked at her. She could see the pain in his eyes. She put out her cigarette and looked away.

"Do you know how long it's taken me to find you? How many times I thought that I'd found you only to find out that it was some other mother, some other little girl that wasn't mine? I love Jennifer. I loved her the minute I found out you were having her."

"Her name is Christiana and do you not remember the number of times you threatened to kill me Brady? What was I supposed to do- let you? Then where would she have been? You would have been in prison and she would have been in foster care. I had no choice."

"You will never know how sorry I am about what I did to you. I know that I wasn't a good husband, and I don't expect you to forgive me for everything that I did to you. I'm asking you to give me the chance to prove that I deserve to be a part of her life."

He'd always called her his wife.

She didn't want to have this discussion she thought. She'd fought with herself a thousand times in her head after she'd left him, because he'd never hurt Christiana; only her. He was a good father when he wasn't drunk or high. And he did love their daughter.

She hated having to put herself before her daughter, but as she'd told him, in the last few months she'd been with him, she'd imagined over and over the ways he'd kill her. Him going on the run with the baby, them getting pulled over. Christy growing up with strangers, her mother in a hole in the ground and her father in prison. Which was worse, what she'd done or what could have been, what most likely would have been?

"I had no choice Brady. You didn't give me one. I begged you over and over again to get help. I never called the police on you when they could have arrested you a hundred times. I kept it to myself because I believed that our daughter needed both parents. But there is only so much that a person can take."

He dug a chip out of his pocket and showed it to her. AA. She nodded.

"Congratulations."

"Six years sober. Ten years for the drugs, but only six for the booze. I went to counseling Carina. I went to rehab. I went to jail. I did six months in jail and almost a year of domestic violence classes. I took parenting classes. I bought her a birthday card every year, had a little party for just me. I look at the moon every night and say goodnight to my little girl who's not so little anymore."

She lit another cigarette. She didn't want to feel any of what she was feeling. She didn't want to feel compassion for a man that had once choked her until she'd blacked out. But she was curious.

"Who else did you smack around? One of your girlfriends?"

He sighed, looking pained. "Okay. I deserved that. Yes, I was seeing her when we were together. I was so pissed off at you I took it out on her. I went to jail. When I got out of jail, I was going to find you and take Jenni away from you. I did my time, did my stupid classes. I was still drinking, still doing drugs, asking everybody that we had known if they knew where you were. I had to see my daughter. I was going crazy. I almost overdosed two times in the first year, had to go to the hospital both times. I am deeply ashamed of what I've done Carina, but I promise you that I will be a good father for Christiana. She needs a father."

"She's been fine for twelve years without one," she said, then felt like a bitch.

He got up. She was afraid for a minute that he was going to hit her. It had gotten hard not to flinch when he raised his hand around her.

"Will you think about it please? I'll be in town for a couple more weeks."

She wanted to say no. She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself; that he'd given up the chance to be a part of his daughter's life when he'd beaten her mother on a daily basis for over a year.

"Fine."

She lit another cigarette, knowing that she was getting way too close to chain smoking. She looked to the sky, as if for wisdom from the heavens. Mona would know what to do. Mona who'd been married three times, each man richer than the last.

Christy was going to be home soon. She'd convinced Carina to let Locke come over for dinner tonight. No way in hell did she want Brady to see their daughter's would-be boyfriend.

"Thank you Carina. That's all I can ask. I have something for Christiana even if you won't let me see her."

"What?"

He took a slim blue book from his back pocket, the kind they gave you at the bank for a savings account. He handed it to her. She almost jumped when his hand brushed hers. He looked pained when he pulled away, shoving his hands into his pockets.

She opened it. There were multiple entries starting ten years ago. The current balance was a little over $10,000.

"For college," he said quietly. "I know it's not enough. Child support really adds up in twelve years, but I went without food some weeks to make sure that I was making a regular deposit."

She nodded, biting her lip as she handed it back to him. "Thank you. My Aunt Mona made sure that she'd have more than enough to cover college, but she can use it to buy a car or something I'm sure."

He sighed and she shook her head. "I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean to trivialize what you've done. Do you have a number that I can reach you at when I figure this all out?"

He took an expensive looking cell phone out of his pocket, and she noticed for the first time that he was wearing a wedding ring.

He took a piece of paper out of his wallet and scrawled a number on it.

She wanted to ask him how long he'd been married, if he had other children, but she couldn't do it.

She felt like a traitor to her past self for even having a civil conversation with him. But then he answered her questions for her.

"I met her in AA. We've been married for five years now. No, we don't have kids. She can't have them. Christiana's my only chance."

"I promise I'll think about it. I don't mean to sound abrupt, but she's going to be home any minute now."

"Do you mind if I sit in my car for a minute so I can at least look at her?"

"Um."

Christy was going to be with Locke, and what bigger reality check did you need to know how much your child had grown up than to see them with a member their own age of the opposite sex she thought?

"It's okay," he said, but the disappointment was apparent in his eyes.

"She's bringing home this boy from school. She's been bugging me for months to let her go out with him."

"But she just turned fourteen."

There was a protest in his voice. He wanted to believe even less than she did that their little girl was growing up.

"He's a good kid. If you can get past the green hair."

"Green?"

"Yeah. Go on. They'll be here any minute."

He took one last look at her and then took off across the street to his car.

The bus pulled up at the stop about a block away. Christiana got off, followed by Locke. She glanced across the street at Brady's car, wondering what he would think of their daughter.

As they neared the house, she thought she saw the flash of a camera. Christy didn't notice.

She was too involved in conversation with Locke.

"Hi Mom."

"Hi honey. Hello Locke."

"Hi Miss Moore. How are you?"

"Good, you?"

"We had a big test at school today. I don't know how well I did."

Christy snorted. "You could ace a test in your sleep. Get over it."

He smiled almost shyly at Christy and shrugged. When Christy opened the door to go inside, she glanced at Brady's car. He was still sitting there. She fought the urge to wave, but stopped herself.

Carina wondered how she could possibly be thinking what she was thinking. That he was right, that he did have a right to be a part of their daughter's life. And how in the hell was she going to bring it up to Christy? After all these years, she was going to have to tell her daughter the truth.

The kids did homework in the living room. She sat in the kitchen and wondered who she could talk to about this. For the millionth time since Mona had died, she wished her aunt were still alive.

She wasn't close enough to the parents of any of Christiana's friends, nor any of their neighbors to talk to them about it. She really liked Clark, she was afraid that she liked him a little too much for her own good, but she couldn't see herself talking about her past with him.

She didn't want to admit to anyone that she had stuck around when Christy's dad had abused her for so long. But she also didn't like to think about the fact that she had walked away with their daughter when he had never laid a hand on Christy.

Not that there was an excuse for any of what he had done to her, but after a while, she had begun to think there may have been another way.

She had been so caught up in running away that she hadn't wanted to stop. It was a difficult situation. She didn't look forward to explaining any of it to her daughter, who was sitting so happily in the living room, basking in the attention of a boy that she adored.

She had no idea how Christy would feel about seeing her father when Carina explained to her why she had really left him. Would she be angrier with the father who had abused her mother, or the mother that had walked away and never looked back?

Her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse. It was Clark. "Hi."

"Hi. I heard you've got a dinner guest."

"Yeah."

She looked into the living room. Christy was listening closely to something that Locke was animatedly explaining to her, his hands flying in the air.

"How's it going?"

"He's a nice boy."

She had other things on her mind. For the first time since Christiana had been gushing over Locke, she was more concerned about something other than her daughter's growing interest in a boy.

"You don't sound so sure."

"I like Locke. She's just too young."

He laughed. "I know."

He had a sixteen-year-old daughter and a twelve-year-old son that lived with their mother.

"Hey, the kids are going to be up over the weekend. Do you want to get together? I'd really like you to meet them."

"I don't want to intrude on your time with your kids."

"You wouldn't be intruding. I think Christy and Mel would get along great. And I plan on talking you into being a big part of my life."

She laughed, suddenly feeling breathless, like she was no better than her teenage daughter.

"I have to start dinner," she said, purposefully avoiding his statement.

"Okay. I'll talk to you later. And please think about it. If not this time, then next time. I'm serious Carina. In the short time that I've known you, I've really grown to care about you. You are a wonderful woman and a truly awesome mother."

"Thank you. I will think about it. I'll bring it up to Christy, see what she thinks."

She didn't feel like an awesome mother right now, she felt selfish, but then again her self-doubt, her lack of self-worth, were part of what had kept her with Brady for so long.

"Have a nice dinner. Let me know okay?"

"I will."

"Tell Christy hi for me. Watch Locke's hands. Fourteen-year-old boys have very fast hands."

She thought that Christy was probably the one she really had to worry about. It had looked like she was the one that was kissing him the other night. Locke seemed almost shy. Christiana was very open and forward when she wanted something.

"I think that my daughter is the one I need to watch out for."

Clark laughed. "Mel's the same way. Take care hon. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay. Bye Clark."

"Bye."

She hung up the phone and glanced at the kids. Their heads were close together over a textbook.

She took the lasagna noodles out of the cupboard and put water on to boil.

When it was ready to go in the oven, she called out to the living room "Do you two want something to drink?"

"Do we have soda?" Christy said.

"We're out. I need to go to the grocery store. You want milk or juice?"

"We'll go down to the store and get some."

Since she felt that her daughter drank way too much soda Carina said "We have some of that flavored water, will that work?"

Christiana sighed. "I guess."

She came into the kitchen and pulled two bottles out of the fridge.

"You want ice Locke?"

"No thank you. Miss Moore?"

"Yes Locke?"

"My parents wanted to know if you and Christiana would like to come to dinner at our house next week."

She'd never met Locke's parents, but had heard they were quite a pair. His mother was a tattoo artist who was very talented. His father was a scientist who did research studies on treatments for diseases.

"That would be nice. What do you think Christy?"

"Your mom is so cool. Mom, can I get a tattoo?"

Carina shook her head. Leave it to a teenager to be more impressed with a tattoo artist than a scientist she thought.

"You're more than welcome to get a tattoo when you're 30, honey."

Christiana rolled her eyes. "That's so old Mom."

Carina laughed. "I know I'm ancient. Three years over thirty. You'd better get ready to make funeral arrangements."

Christy rolled her eyes again. "Ha ha."

"What night Locke?"

"Wednesday is good for my parents, if it's okay with you."

"That would be fine. Tell them thank you. Let me know if we can bring anything."

"I'll ask them and then let Christiana know at school. Do you need help with anything Miss Moore?"

He was the only one of her daughter's friends that didn't call Christiana Christy, and that consistently called her Miss Moore. Christy's other friends all went back and forth between calling her Miss Moore and Carina.

"The salad's already made. I'll just need to put the bread in after the lasagna's out. Thank you though."

"It smells really good. Lasagna is one of my favorite meals. My mom always buys it pre made. Of course my dad says it safer that way."

Carina laughed. "I guess we all have different things that we're good at huh?"

He nodded.

"I saw a picture of some of your mother's work in the paper a while back. She's really talented."

"She's awesome. Dad always says he has his way of making the world a better place and she has hers."

She smiled at Locke as Christy impatiently motioned him back over to the couch.

He gave her an apologetic look and followed Christy back to the living room.

She listened to their chatter at dinner and then gave Locke a ride home. Christy was excited about going to dinner at Locke's house, wanting to buy something new to wear.

Now was not the time to bring up Brady. But when would be a good time she wondered? He'd said he was only in town for another two weeks. She still hadn't paid attention to what state his license plates were from so she didn't know how far away he lived.

Christy wasn't too thrilled about meeting Clark's kids until she mentioned that he had a sixteen-year-old daughter. Then she perked up. She was envious of the older girls in her school, their being able to drive and date high on her list.

She called Clark back after Christy went upstairs but he didn't answer, so she left him a voicemail.

After smoking a cigarette, she went upstairs herself, wondering when she could bring it up with Christy that her father was in town and how she was going to do it.

She'd made up her mind that she was going to let Brady see his daughter. At any time during the twelve years since she'd left him if you would have told her that she'd consider doing such a thing, she'd have thought it was crazy.

She tossed and turned again that night, nervous about a lot of things. Her daughter's relationship with Locke was very sweet. She didn't think that Locke was in any way bad for her daughter, she just didn't want to think of the natural progression of even a teenage relationship when it involved her little girl.

She was nervous about meeting Clark's kids. She hadn't thought about seriously dating anyone in a long time and was afraid that her relationship was moving too fast and that maybe she should worry more about where things were going between her and Clark than where they were going between Christy and Locke.

As much as her daughter talked about boys, kissing and sex with her friends, she didn't think that Christy was ready to go much beyond the casual kissing that she'd been doing with Locke in their backyard.

From the tipsy kissing that she'd done with Clark, and the way that she'd felt, she was afraid that she was already in over her head. Meeting Clark's children was one step that brought her way too close to having to face up to the statement that he had made earlier, which she could tell from his tone was not in jest, that he wanted her to be a bigger part of his life.

He was damned good looking. He was smart, and kind, and very good with Christy. He made good money, drove a nice car, owned a home that she would have envied back when she cared about such things.

But she was scared. She hadn't had sex in a very long time. It made her blush thinking about doing it with Clark. Then there was the whole Brady thing, which was the most important part of what she was nervous about.

She hadn't exactly lied to her daughter about her father; she just hadn't told her the whole truth.

Her daughter had never asked if her father wanted to see her. Carina guessed that she'd always assumed that he hadn't, or had talked about it with someone other than her mother.

She finally fell asleep, though it seemed like just minutes later when the alarm went off. She had to go into the office for a meeting. That would keep her occupied, though she was tired as hell and knew she had dark circles under her eyes.

When she went out into the hallway Christy said "You look like crap Mom. Do you want to borrow some of my makeup to cover up the big bags under your eyes?"

That was another thing they'd fought about. Makeup. Christiana was a beautiful girl, no matter what color her hair was or what color her eyes were, though the blue contacts that she had that were so light they were almost white secretly creeped Carina out. She personally thought that her daughter didn't need a drop of makeup, but Christy was adamant that all the girls at school were wearing it.

"No thank you, honey."

"I thought your boss had the hots for you. Don't you want to look good for him?"

Carina shook her head. Yes, her boss had a crush on her. But he was forty-five, overweight and always smelled like garlic and sweat. And she wouldn't have wanted to out with her boss if he was her age and looked like he should be on the cover of a magazine.

"Oh, I forgot. You've got Clark now. No more need for smelly Mr. Robinson right?"

"You should do stand up," she remarked dryly to her daughter.

"You and Clark would make a really cute baby. How 'bout it Mother dear? Wanna give me a little brother or sister before I leave home?"

"No."

Christy laughed. "Never hurts to ask right?"

"Sure Christy."

"Locke wants like ten kids."

Carina opened her mouth, and then shut it. Why was her daughter discussing children with Locke she wondered?

"Just kidding Mom. I never asked him."

Trying not to look too relieved, she said "Good."

"I gotta go Mom. I'm meeting Noelle at the bus stop."

"You'll miss breakfast again."

"I eat plenty at lunchtime. Quit worrying so much Mom. I'm fourteen, not four."

"Mothers have the right to worry, even when their kids are forty."

"And I have no doubt that you will Mom. Are you still having lunch with Clark?"

"Yeah, why?"

The building where he worked was near her office building, so they'd decided to meet on his lunch break.

"You really should put some makeup on. You wouldn't want him to start thinking you're just a frumpy regular mom instead of a hot mom."

The things that came out of her daughter's mouth these days she thought.

"If he doesn't want to look at me without makeup, I guess he doesn't want to look at me all."

"Oh, he wants to look at you."

"Christiana Monique." The suggestion in her daughter's statement was plain.

"Maybe if you quit acting so old Mom, you wouldn't feel so old."

"Go to school Christy."

"Yes Mother. Have a nice day."

"You too. I love you. Behave yourself."

"Always. Bye Mom. Love you too."

Her daughter waved and then was off down the stairs and out the door.

She finished getting ready and then drove to the office. The meeting ran late, so she tried to text Clark under the table, something she'd seen Christy do a thousand times. But she was afraid it was coming out like gibberish and her boss was looking at her.

She smiled at him and was relieved when a message from Clark came back that said 'okay, see you when you get here.'

When the meeting was over, she practically jumped up from the table. Mr. Robinson tried to talk her into going to lunch with him, but she said she had to run, that Christy had a doctor's appointment.

She used to feel guilty making up imaginary appointments for her daughter, but Robinson always backed off when she mentioned her daughter, so she didn't feel too bad anymore.

When she got to the restaurant, Clark was talking with a very attractive woman who looked like she'd invested an amount of money in makeup that would make Christy envious. Her perfume was overpowering. Carina could smell it five feet away, from where she stood watching them.

Clark put his hand on the woman's shoulder and they laughed together. When he kissed her on the cheek Carina wanted to turn and walk away. But he spotted her then and motioned her over.

"Carina I'm so glad you're here. Ashleigh, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Carina. Carina this is my sister Ashleigh."

His sister she thought. She was so relieved she wanted to laugh. The stab of jealousy she'd felt at watching them together had been overwhelmed doubly by the fact that the gorgeous though over done-up woman next to him was his sister and the fact that he'd called her his girlfriend.

Ashleigh surprised the hell out of her by giving her a hug.

"I've heard a lot about you. It's good to see Clark interested in someone again. The divorce was so hard on him."

He hadn't mentioned a lot about his divorce, other than the fact that he didn't get to see his kids as much as he'd like.

"It's nice to meet you Ashleigh."

"You too hon, believe me. I've got to run. Call me Clark. We'll get together for drinks sometime."

"As long as you promise to leave your fiancé at home Ash."

Ashleigh rolled her eyes, reminding Carina of Christiana. "No one will ever be good enough for your little sister right?"

"You're damned right little sister."

Ashleigh smiled. "Be good to my big brother Carina. He deserves someone nice after putting up with that bitch for so long."

"Ash," Clark said.

"Your kids aren't in the room. And she is a bitch."

Clark sighed. "I know. Love you kiddo."

"Kiddo? I'm twenty-five." Ashleigh laughed. "Love you too. Have a nice lunch guys."

She walked off, waving, leaving a trail of perfume behind her.

"I'm sorry I'm so late."

"It's okay." He squeezed her hand. "How'd it go yesterday?"

For a minute she almost panicked, thinking that he was talking about her meeting with Brady. Then she realized he was talking about dinner with Locke.

"It was fine. He's such a polite kid. If she was two years older, I'd probably be begging her to go out with someone as nice as him."

Clark laughed. "I doubt that. Melicia was sneaking kisses on the playground when she was twelve. They grow up way too fast don't they?"

"Yeah, they do."

"My ex-wife thinks our son is gay because he's twelve and not interested in girls."

"That's crazy. When I was in school boys still acted like girls had the plague until we were at least fourteen."

"Sharon's a little off the wall sometimes. I wanted Andrew to live with me full time but she fought it hard, said I work too much. I think she was sleeping with the judge."

At first she thought he was joking, but the look on his face said he was serious. She started to say 'I'm sorry,' but didn't know if it was appropriate.

He nodded to himself. "Ash hates Sharon. Hated her on sight. Sometimes I think she was right when she said I never should have married her. But then we wouldn't have the kids and they're worth putting up with anything. How's Christy?"

"She's good. Excited that Locke's parents invited us over for dinner next week."

"His dad is a famous scientist isn't he?"

"Yeah. And his mom is so talented. Almost makes me want to get a tattoo."

"I've always wanted to meet them. They seem like such interesting people. Before Sharon moved the kids three hundred miles away they went to the same school. I'd see them at PTA meetings and stuff, but never got the chance to talk to them."

"Maybe we can have them over for dinner sometime."

"That'd be great. It's almost summer. I'm pretty good with a barbecue."

She smiled, feeling warm inside. He was making plans for the future, even if it was only a few weeks away. The waiter came by and they ordered their food. She was afraid he was going to be late getting back to work and told him so.

He shrugged. "They'll survive a few extra minutes without me."

The conversation was casual after that. He talked her into splitting dessert.

When he walked her to her car, he paused and gave her a long kiss. She was usually uncomfortable with public displays of affection, but got so caught up that she didn't care who was watching. She hadn't felt this way since she'd first met Brady. She felt a stab again when he pulled away and she watched him walk to his car.

Could she bring it up to Christiana tonight that her father wanted to see her, that she had a stepmother she wondered? She didn't know his wife's name, but supposed she wasn't in town with him. Or was she? Did it matter? Her mind was racing again as she drove home. She wanted to go back to her normal boring life. Or as normal and boring as life could be when you were the mother of a vivacious fourteen-year-old.

She waited for Christy on the front porch, but didn't get a chance to talk to her daughter about Brady that night. She'd brought Odessa home with her and they did homework until dinner. The girls ended up having another fight about boys, only this time Odessa was accusing Christy of trying to hone in on the boy she was interested in.

The ride to Odessa's house was silent and Christy listened to her mp3 player on the way home, so loud that Carina could hear the music perfectly. When they got home, Christy went straight to her room so Carina put off talking to her another night.

The next morning she told Christiana that she'd prefer if she came home from school alone that afternoon because there was something she needed to talk to her about. Christy gave her a funny look, opened her mouth to ask a question, thought better of it, and then nodded.

She didn't look like she'd slept well and was wearing way too much makeup. She'd wanted to go to the mall that afternoon to pick out something to wear to dinner at Locke's house, but the conversation they needed to have wasn't something she wanted to do in public. She'd finally convinced her to wait until the weekend and let Melicia help her pick something out.

She'd heard Christy joking with Odessa about meeting her new stepsister and brother over the weekend, and had almost said something, but then figured it was your usual private teenage conversation when parents weren't supposed to be listening.

She was glad when Christy didn't object when she made her eat breakfast and was actually out the door on time for the school bus.

She was seeing Clark on Friday night. Christiana was spending the night at Noelle's and she was picking her up the next morning to meet Clark and his kids. She was nervous about her date. It was the first time she'd really be alone with him. He was coming over and cooking her dinner.

She considered writing down what she wanted to say to Christy about her dad, but dismissed the idea. It was something that she'd thought about a lot during the years, and she didn't need some fake sounding speech while talking to her flesh and blood.

Mid-afternoon she called Brady.

"Hello."

"Hi Brady. It's Carina."

"Hi."

He sounded hopeful, but like he wasn't trying to be too hopeful.

"I'm going to talk to Christiana this afternoon. I'm going to let her know that you're in town and want to see her, but I'm leaving it up to her if she wants to see you."

"That sounds fair. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Is your wife in town too?"

"No, Stacy's at home. She's pretty busy most of the time. She does a lot of work with AA and NA and she volunteers at a children's home. And then she works the graveyard shift at a nursing home. She's a CNA."

"Wow."

"She's a heck of a woman." She thought that he sounded proud. "I thought maybe she could come down the weekend before I go back home. If it's okay with you and Christiana."

"I'm sure that will be fine, if Christy decides to see you."

She had no idea how her daughter was going to react.

"Yeah, if she decides to see me." He sighed.

"Brady, I want you to know that I'm not going to try to put anything in a way that makes her think that she shouldn't. I'm sorry I've kept her away from you, but I didn't see another way."

"I understand. I hope she'll give me a chance."

"If not now, then I'm sure there will come a time when she will."

"Yeah."

He'd already missed so much she could only imagine how it must feel to him, having to wait even longer.

"Well, you have my number. I'll meet her anywhere, anytime."

"I'll let you know."

"I don't know if it will help or not, but I've got all my certificates and things from all the classes and stuff. And I can give her Stacy's phone number and e-mail address if she wants to talk to her."

"Okay."

She wasn't sure if any of that would matter to Christy, but she knew he was trying to be helpful.

"Will you tell her I love her? That I think of her every day?"

"I will. I've got to go Brady."

"Okay. Bye Carina."

Tears were stinging her eyes as she hung up the phone. She'd never questioned her decision more in her life than she had at that moment. If it would have just been her, it would have been different. She wouldn't feel bad at all about walking away. It would have been a simple sense of self preservation. But when it involved a child, things were different.

She had never believed, no matter how drunk or high or angry that Brady was that he would ever hurt their child. Could she have walked away for six months, a year, made him suffer without his child for that long and then contacted him, at least given him a chance she wondered?

And what if she'd waited two years or three, hell even six? She put her head in her hands for a moment and then stood up, going outside for a cigarette. It was too late to question herself now about a decision that she'd made twelve years ago.

And though she'd been convinced that no matter what Brady did to her, he would never have harmed Christy; well what if she'd have been wrong about that? If she stayed and he'd have hurt Christy she never would have been able to live with herself.

Would Christiana understand she wondered? Would she forgive her father and would she forgive HER? She didn't know. But she was going to have to face it because the bus would be arriving in forty-five minutes or so.

Going back into the house, she decided to give Christy one of the junk food nights that she only gave into about every six months. She went to the grocery store, bought soda and ice cream and the makings for nachos. She had to spend hours working off all the calories they ingested on one of their junk food nights.

When she pulled up with the groceries, she could see the bus pulling up down the block.

Christy walked slowly. Carina wondered if something was wrong or she was just unenthusiastic about a night alone with her mother.

She'd put all the groceries away and was about to go looking for Christy when her daughter came in and abruptly shut the front door.

"So Mom. What's the big secret? You can't be pregnant because you've only known Clark a couple weeks and I'd be overjoyed if you were anyway. But it might still have something to do with Clark. Are you two eloping in Vegas this weekend instead of hanging out with your kids? Are you running away with him and leaving me with my dad, who's some elusive millionaire that finally decided he wants to see me after fourteen years of not giving a shit? Are we moving because you're afraid that you might like Clark a little too much and have sex with him? C'mon Mom, give it up."

Her daughter's tone was teasing, but she had a feeling that the questions were all too serious.

She handed Christy a glass of soda and sat in the armchair across from the couch.

"I'm not pregnant. I'm not eloping with Clark and we're not moving because I'm afraid I'm going to have a real relationship with a man for the first time in a really long time."

She took a deep breath and continued. "Your father is not an elusive millionaire and I never said that he didn't care about you."

"So how come he hasn't called, written, bothered to do or say anything that's ever made me think otherwise? Why is he coming around now? Is he dying and feels guilty because he was an asshole for fourteen years?"

"No. It's a long story Christiana."

"So tell me. We've got all night. You've made sure of that."

"Help me make dinner honey. Then we'll talk."

Christy brightened a little at the prospect of a junk food night, but once they had their plates and were back in the living room her expression turned dark again.

She watched her daughter eat for a minute and then said "I never married your father as you know. I wouldn't marry him because he was an alcoholic with a drug problem."

Christiana shrugged. "Half the kids in school, their parents are either closet junkies addicted to pills or booze or recovering. Who cares these days?"

"It wasn't just that Christy."

"So what did he do? Did he cheat on you?"

"He did."

"You said that you didn't get along, but you never really told me how long we were with him or why we left, why he didn't feel the need to be a part of my life."

Carina sighed. "We left right before you turned two."

"So he didn't like kids? He couldn't deal with the terrible twos? He got some other chick pregnant? He knocked you around? What Mom?"

"He loved you. You were his whole world."

"So why did you take me away? What did he do that was so wrong?"

This wasn't going the way she'd hoped she thought.

"Christy, this wasn't something that I wanted to have to explain to you, at least now."

"So when were you going to explain to me? When I was eighteen, when I was thirty, when my father was in a hole in the ground? What did he do to you, what did he do to me?"

"He didn't do anything to you. He never even spanked you."

"So what did he do to you that was so bad that you decided I didn't need a father?"

"He hit me. He threatened my life."

"So why are you telling me this now?"

"He wants to see you."

"Why should I want to see a guy who beat my mother, especially after so long? Don't you think if he'd have wanted to see me, he'd have tried say ten, twelve years ago?"

"He did try. I changed our names."

"Huh?"

"I changed our names. You were born Jennifer Marie Shipley. I was Sarah Michelle Rawlins."

"What the hell Mom?"

She sighed again. "None of it was easy for me Christy. I never called the cops, never told anyone what he did besides your Aunt Mona."

"Why not? If he beat you up, he should have gone to jail. Did he do it in front of me?"

"Only once. The rest of the time it was when you were napping, or in bed."

"Does that make it right?"

"I never said that it did."

"How long did you let him hit you?"

"Too long. Over a year."

"Mom seriously? You let him beat you for over a year and never called the cops? I don't know my own mother. Shit."

Christiana shook her head, pushing her half empty plate across the coffee table.

"I'm not proud of it Christy, believe me."

"So he shows up on our doorstep out of nowhere and tells you that he's found Jesus and atoned for his sins?"

Carina hid a smile. She shared her daughter's opinion of organized religion, but now was not the time to discuss it.

"No honey. He's missed twelve years of your life and he wants to be a part of the rest of it. He's changed. He quit drinking, quit doing drugs, he got married a few years ago."

"Did he quit beating women?"

Carina closed her eyes for a moment. "A long time ago."

"Did he take it out on the wrong chick and she decided to put his sorry ass in jail?"

"I don't know sweetheart. Will you at least think about it? I told him you'd at least do that."

"I can't believe you could stand to be in the same room as him. If some guy hit me, I'd never want to see him again."

"I don't blame you."

"So why did you do it?"

"I was young, unsure of myself. I wanted you to have a father."

"Great father he is, beating my mother."

"Look Christiana, I don't know whether or not I did the right thing. I probably could have made different choices and we wouldn't be having this discussion right now."

Christy was silent for a moment, and then said "I want ice cream. You want some?"

Carina shook her head.

"I'll make you a float. C'mon Mom, you know you want one."

There her daughter was, the easy teasing confident Christy she thought.

"Okay."

She started to get up, but Christy said "Sit Mom. I'll get it."

She watched her daughter in the kitchen, making herself a huge bowl of ice cream and adding chocolate syrup and marshmallow on top, and then taking a tall glass out of the cupboard and adding soda and ice cream. She set the glass on the table next to her mother and then curled up on the couch with her overflowing bowl of ice cream.

"Do you know how many calories are in that?"

Christiana shrugged. "I'll do an extra lap around the gym during P.E. tomorrow."

They were silent as they enjoyed their treats. Carina broke the silence by saying "Will you please think about it Christiana? Your father does love you."

"I don't want to see him," she said matter-of-factly.

"Christy. You don't have to decide now. He'll understand."

"He's waited twelve years right? What difference is another twenty or thirty going to make?"

She walked to the kitchen and put her bowl in the sink and then headed for the stairs.

"Goodnight Mom. I love you. I don't blame you for leaving him."

"I love you too Christiana. Goodnight."

She got up, took her glass to the sink, dumped the rest of her and Christy's nachos down the garbage disposal and rinsed the dishes, putting them in the dishwasher.

She opened the kitchen door and went outside for a cigarette. She was drained and wanted to crawl into bed, but she had a phone call to make.

It wasn't Brady that she called, because she had a feeling that Christy was going to change her mind about seeing him. She took her cell phone out to the front porch and called Clark. She didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed when he answered. She told him everything.

She cried a little. He offered to come over, but she declined. She was much too vulnerable. An embrace could lead to a kiss, which could lead to him upstairs in her bed while her daughter slept down the hall. She couldn't deal with that right now.

She hung up and went inside, checking the doors and windows, making sure that everything was locked, and the lights were all off. Then she went upstairs and crawled into bed.

She slept better than she had for a week.

The next morning, Christy didn't mention their discussion from the night before, but she asked for permission to go to Noelle's house after school to do homework, and promised to be home in time for dinner. She ate breakfast without protest and gave Carina a hug before she left.

She breathed in her daughter's clean scent and remembered the mornings when she'd been in kindergarten when she wouldn't go into the building without a hug from her mother.

Christiana wanted to dye her hair again before the weekend so she had to go to the store and get some dye. She said Carina should dye her hair blonde again too, so that they could match.

She actually liked the way she looked as a blonde; thought that it went well with her skin tone, so she agreed.

Christy and Noelle were going to come over after school the next day before heading back to Noelle's for the night. Noelle wanted to dye her hair blonde, too. She was going to check with Noelle's mom to make sure she had permission, but other than that she was fine with it.

She spent most of the day working and catching up on laundry and was watching a movie on DVD when Christy came home from Noelle's.

"Hey Mom. What's for dinner?"

"I wasn't in the mood to cook. Dinner's on the way. Chinese."

"Cool. Locke said that we don't need to bring anything for dinner, but I thought it would be cool if you'd make that salad-the one with the cherries and stuff. You haven't made that in a while."

"Sure. I called Noelle's mom to make sure it was okay to dye her hair."

"And she said yes right?" Christiana rolled her eyes. "Do you think we're not smart enough to figure out that you'd call her mom?"

Carina laughed. "I just wanted to make sure. I didn't want Adele to hate me."

"I forgot you and your friends dyed and chopped at each other's hair when you were teenagers and there were a lot of pissed off parental units."

She nodded. A knock at the door told them their food was there. She let Christy open it and took the slip to sign. They ate a quiet dinner and then Christy helped her finish folding the laundry which she hadn't done in a long time.

She wondered if her daughter felt sorry for her because of what she told her about Brady.

When Christy was on the way up the stairs with an armful of clean laundry she turned and said "What's my father's name?"

"Brady Anthony Shipley."

Christy nodded and then went up the stairs.

There were no more questions about Brady through Friday. The girls were busy giggling about Locke and a boy that Noelle liked named Howard and trying to come up with a way to trick their parents into letting them go to the movies, forgetting that Carina was in the room.

When they were all blondes and had taken their time to admire each other, the girls left for Noelle's house.

She took her time getting dressed for her night with Clark and finally ended up back in the jeans and long sleeved t-shirt that she'd put on in the first place.

He was right on time, ringing the bell at six thirty, his arms filled with grocery bags. He'd brought her flowers again. Once the food was stowed in the kitchen, he took her in his arms and gave her a long kiss that left her breathless.

He was making pizza with a whole wheat crust, organic sauce, natural cheese, and what he called safe meat from animals that were raised without steroids. They had a glass of wine with dinner and then went to the living room.

She played an album that she hadn't heard in a long time. They sat together on the couch, her head on his shoulder. They drank some more wine, chatted a little bit, and then ended up in a major make out session, the likes of which she hadn't had since she'd been in high school. She was more turned on than she'd been in years and didn't protest when he led her up the stairs towards her room.

When they were both unclothed, he fumbled in his pocket, and said "Shit."

"What?"

"I don't have protection."

"Oh."

Then Carina thought, they were both adults, he'd been married for a long time; she hadn't been with a man in forever, so they should be safe right?

She looked at him and almost sighed. He looked so good. His arms were muscular, his chest was toned and the glimpse she'd gotten of his naked butt when he'd turned around to search for a condom had made her want to drool.

He reached for his pants. "There's a convenience store down the street right?"

"Next time."

"You sure?"

She nodded, pulling him to her.

The best way she could think of to describe Clark in bed was intoxicating. He was an incredible lover, very intuitive. He seemed to know when she wanted to take it slow, but he also seemed to know when she couldn't stand for him to take it slow and easy anymore.

They reached climax at the closest she'd ever come to simultaneous. When he moved off of her, he grinned.

She was laying back on the bed, almost in a stupor. "What?"

He laughed.

She threw her pillow at him. "What? Tell me what's so damned funny or get that look off of your face."

He leaned down and kissed her. "It's not funny. You're beautiful. But you'd better quit being so beautiful or I'm going to have to go to the store."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought guys over thirty-five couldn't do that."

He threw the pillow back at her. "I am not old."

"I know," she said, and kissed him.

"I really like you as a blonde," he murmured, kissing the side of her neck.

"Why do you have a tattoo on your butt that says Mom?"

She was trying to distract him.

He laughed. "I got mad at my mom right after I got out of high school and told her to kiss my ass. My dad got really pissed and said if I didn't apologize to her he was going to tattoo that on my ass. We fought a lot then. One night when I was drunk in college I thought of that night and went out with some of my friends and got the tattoo."

"Why didn't you have it removed when you sobered up?"

"I was a kid. I never had the money back then. By the time I did, it was a combination of embarrassment and a strange sort of fondness that kept me from doing it. My mom thinks it's funny now. She didn't then, but now she does."

"Your mom must be quite a woman."

"You'll find out when you meet her." He squeezed her hand. "If I'm going to spend the night, I really need to go to the store."

"Spend the night?"

"You don't want me to?"

"It's not that. Don't you have to drive three hundred miles to pick up your kids?"

"She usually meets me halfway, but tomorrow she's bringing them all the way here. She's meeting an old friend in town which my daughter informed me is an old boyfriend."

"Oh."

"You want to come to the store with me?"

She shook her head. She wanted a cigarette. He knew she smoked, but wasn't too thrilled about it.

"You want anything?"

"Chocolate."

He gave her an amused smile. "What kind?"

"I don't care."

"Ice cream? Candy bar? Chocolate milk?"

"Candy bar. Something with nuts, but no coconut."

"Okay. Anything else my fair lady?"

"No. Wait, make it a brownie instead. I'll warm it up and put some ice cream on top."

"So let me see, that's orange juice because I can't go without it the mornings and I noticed you didn't have any in the fridge, a brownie and one extra-large box of condoms right?"

She threw the pillow at him again. "Clark."

He grinned. "Only kidding." He leaned over and kissed her again. "Be back in a few."

She put her robe on and walked down the stairs with him, opening the kitchen door when he'd pulled away and lighting a cigarette.

When he came back fifteen minutes later, he was laughing.

"What?"

"The kid at the store."

He pulled the condoms out of the bag and showed them to her. It was an economy sized box.

She gave him a stern look. "That's all they had-I swear. But he asked me if I'd hooked up with a MILF. I asked him what a MILF was. He wouldn't tell me. He got bright red and forgot to charge me for the orange juice."

"Clark."

She knew what a MILF was. Her daughter had laughingly told her that she'd heard one of the boys she'd invited to the party call both her and Adele MILFs. It had been a little embarrassing having her daughter explain it to her, especially when it made her laugh even harder. It felt strange to be thought of that way by a fourteen-year-old boy, but even stranger that her fourteen-year-old daughter thought it was hilarious.

"You know what a MILF is right?"

"I got to listen to my daughter explain it to me after her party."

He laughed. "My daughter's boyfriend explained it to me when she was fifteen, only her boyfriend wasn't as shy about telling me what it meant as the kid at the store was, even after I caught him calling my ex-wife one."

"Wow."

"I wasn't too upset when she broke up with him."

He handed her her brownie and then put the orange juice in the fridge.

She took a bowl out of the cupboard. "You want some?"

"Nah. Well, maybe the ice cream without the brownie."

They ate their ice cream and then went back upstairs. She found out that he was very good at foreplay too. It was after two in the morning when they finally went to sleep after a long shower together.

When she went downstairs the next morning and Christiana was sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal, her face instantly got hot.

Christy looked up and said mildly "Chill Mom. It's not like I didn't see his car in the driveway. You were supposed to pick me up half an hour ago."

"I'm sorry."

"No problem. Noelle's dad had a good laugh when he saw Clark's car out front."

Wonderful Carina thought, now everyone would know Clark had spent the night with her.

"It's just sex Mom. You're an adult. It's like normal and stuff."

Clark chuckled from behind her and her face went red again. "Good morning Christiana."

"Hey Clark."

And then her daughter proceeded to have a normal conversation with her newfound lover.

She went upstairs and got dressed. Then it was time to meet Clark's kids. They followed him to the mall, where they were all meeting up.

The girls hit it off right away and immediately disappeared in the direction of the clothing store.

At lunch time the girls met them at the food court; giggling uncontrollably. They showed off a set of bracelets that read 'stepsisters'. When Carina gave her daughter a dirty look she said "What-are we being too presumptuous?"

They dissolved into another fit of giggles then.

Clark thought it was funny too, but Andrew looked confused. She went with Andrew when he refilled his soda to get away from the conspirators.

They went to see a movie after lunch and then wandered around the mall the rest of the afternoon, stopping in wherever the kids decided they wanted to. Clark spent a lot of money on the kids, Christy included, buying them pretty much whatever they wanted, only drawing the line twice at a skirt Melicia wanted that was way too short and a two-hundred-dollar remote control car for Andrew.

They stopped for dinner at a buffet she and Christy both loved but never seemed to get around to going to. When they parted in the parking lot the girls were busy exchanging phone numbers and email addresses. Andrew was involved in a book his dad had bought him, sitting in the backseat of Clark's car.

She tried to give him a quick kiss, but he pulled her in for a lengthier one, which drew snickers from both of their teenage daughters.

They went home. She read a book on the couch while Christiana was upstairs trying on her new outfit again.

She came downstairs half an hour later, holding two pictures. One of herself and Melicia she'd taken with her phone and another of the five of them that the girls had made a stranger at the mall take.

"They're nice honey."

"We look like a family don't we?"

Carina admitted to herself that they did if you didn't know better. The two girls, both blonde because of Christy's dye job; could pass for sisters. Andrew had dark hair like his father so it looked like two teenage girls who took after their mother and a preteen who took after their father.

Carina handed the picture back.

"Mom," Christiana said after a few minutes of their sitting in silence on opposite ends of the couch.

"Yes honey?"

"Can I call my dad?"

She almost asked what had changed her mind, but figured it had something to do with Melicia.

Clark seemed very close to his kids, and after their lengthy discussion the other night she figured that he might have mentioned something to his daughter.

Christiana obviously looked up to the older girl, even after just having met her. By the end of the afternoon they'd been acting like friends that had known each other forever, or indeed, sisters.

"Sure hon. Let me find his number."

She'd stored it in her phone, but wanted to give Christy a minute, in case she changed her mind. She handed the slip of paper to her daughter. Christy dialed it into her phone, but didn't push send.

"I'm going up to my room."

"Okay hon."

Her daughter walked slowly up the stairs and shut her door. She was interested to know how their conversation would go, but knew if Christy had wanted her to know, she would have stayed downstairs.

Her daughter was gone for at least half an hour. She smoked two cigarettes and was sitting on the couch unsuccessfully trying to concentrate on her book when Christiana came back downstairs.

"How'd it go?"

Christy shrugged. "He's coming by to pick me up tomorrow morning if that's okay."

"That's fine."

"His wife, my stepmom, is coming down next weekend I guess. It's weird to think of having a stepmom." She grinned. "I guess it fits. I have a feeling I'm going to have a stepdad soon."

"Christiana Monique, stop with that."

"Why? You like him, he likes you. Mel thinks you're pretty cool. Her mom is very high maintenance and she likes that you're casual. She thinks that if you marry her dad she and Andrew will get to come live with us because you work from home most of the time. Then their mom can't use the excuse that Clark works all the time and is never around for not letting them stay with him more often."

"Do the kids want to live with their dad?"

"Definitely. Mel misses all her friends down here and Andrew's a boy so of course he would rather hang out with his dad. She says their mom sleeps with different guys all the time. She did the judge that decided who got custody. Brought him right into their house."

"Wow."

Her daughter was so open and frank about everything, sometimes it scared her.

"Yeah. She's saying that Clark can't be a good dad because he's at work all the time and she's getting drunk and bringing guys home and living off of alimony and child support."

"That's not good."

"Nope. Mel doesn't even like her mother. Andrew reads all the time, shuts it all out."

"It sounds like Clark should go back to court."

Christiana shrugged again. "She'd sleep with the new judge. Mel said she'd do it even if it was a woman."

"There has to be something he can do."

"Marry him. Help him find a better lawyer that won't just lie down and take it. You know you're going to do it eventually, so the sooner the better."

"Christiana."

"What?"

"It's not that simple."

"I know you Mom. You haven't had a real boyfriend in forever. You're into Clark, he thinks you're awesome. You did it with him."

"Christiana."

Christy smiled. "It'll happen. Noelle is going to be so jealous of my cool step-sister."

"Goodnight Christy."

"It's the weekend Mom."

"Just go upstairs and be a brat to your friends instead of your mother okay?"

Christy rolled her eyes. "A brat? You couldn't think of a better word Mom?"

Carina smiled. "I love you Christiana."

"Love you too Mom. I'll leave you alone now."

"What time is your father coming by tomorrow?"

"Nine or so."

"Okay."

Christy went up the stairs. Carina curled up on the couch, trying to read her book. It still wasn't working. It was a romance novel, and her mind kept drifting back to Clark.

When she wasn't thinking about their love making, she was thinking about the absurd custody situation with his children. She'd had no idea that situations like that went on in family court.

She fell asleep on the couch. When she went woke up and went upstairs it was after midnight. She could still hear the soft taps from Christy's fingers on the keyboard of her laptop from down the hall.

She almost told her to go to bed, but it was the weekend and she was seeing her father for the first time in twelve years, so she decided to leave her alone.

She woke up around seven and made coffee. Christy came down a little after 8:30, looking tired.

She waved off Carina's offer to make her breakfast and said she wanted to go sit on the porch. Carina asked her if she wanted company, but she shook her head.

Her daughter was never this quiet. She was a little worried, thinking that maybe though she'd been convinced that she should give her dad a chance that she still wasn't ready to actually meet him.

But she stuck her head in the door a little after 9. "Dad's here. If you need me call me. You have his number too. I'll be home this afternoon sometime. I love you Mom."

"Love you too honey."

Christiana shut the door. She heard a car door shut and then she was gone.

It was a boring day. Her work for the week had been finished on Friday, there wasn't more than a load of laundry to do, and after a quick run through of the house, vacuuming, straightening up her bathroom; she always left Christy's to her, it was her daughter's private domain, and putting the dishes in the dishwasher away, she was done. So she took her book outside and read on the porch.

Noelle's mom called her early in the afternoon. She wanted details on her night with Clark and was jealous that they were going to dinner at Locke's house. She too, wanted to meet his parents.

She said she'd bring up with them a barbecue in early summer. Then both Adele and Clark's curiosity would be satisfied.

Adele said that she had agreed to let Noelle go to the movies with Howard, if Christy would come along and the adults would sit in another part of the theater. Carina agreed, somewhat reluctantly since she still wasn't ready to let her daughter really date, but figured with a crowded theater and parents watching from a few rows away the kids couldn't get into too much trouble.

Christy came home a little after 4 with a bag from the mall full of clothes. Brady waved from across the street, and since his window was down she could see the wide grin on his face.

"Christiana."

"Don't start Mom. I told him he didn't have to buy me all this stuff. He wanted to. He said it doesn't start to make up for all the birthday and Christmas presents that he's missed. He saved all the presents he bought me. He said I could have them, but it's just a bunch of kid's stuff now."

Carina nodded. "Did you have a nice time?"

"I guess. It's weird for both of us still. He took like a thousand pictures of me."

Christy rolled her eyes.

"Can you blame him?"

"No. And I don't blame you either, in case you're wondering. It was just an f-ed up situation. You both should have probably handled it differently but you didn't, and now we have to get on with our lives."

Teenagers were such a strange mixture of child and adult, it never ceased to blow her mind.

"You know what's funny Mom?"

"What?"

"He showed me a picture of his wife. She kind of looks like you. She's not as tall and she's really skinny, but her eyes are a lot like yours and the coloring. I think he missed you."

How to answer that one she wondered?

"I don't know hon."

Christiana shrugged. "When are Clark's kids coming down again?"

"I'm not sure."

"Noelle knew who Mel was when they went to school here, but they weren't friends, so she's really jealous. And the girl that was Melicia's best friend when they lived here is like the prettiest girl in school."

"Hmm."

"I'm going up to my room for a while. Call me when dinner's ready okay?"

"Okay."

She made a salad with chicken breast for dinner and called Christy down. Christy made a face.

She didn't mind eating salad, just didn't think it was a complete meal.

"Can Locke come over and help me study for our science test tomorrow?"

Carina held back a sigh. "I suppose. Adele is letting Noelle go to the movies with Howard as long as you and Locke go too."

"Awesome. Really?"

"Yes honey. But we will be there too. We won't embarrass you by sitting with you, though."

"No wonder Noelle didn't tell me."

"You've been begging me to go for months and now I say you can go, and you don't want to?"

"It's no fun with parents hanging over your shoulder."

"We won't be hanging over your shoulders."

"At least you're being honest about it. Though it would be pretty funny catching you guys spying on us."

Carina smiled. She had thought about that, but knew the kids would have found them out all too quickly.

"Do you think Locke's parents will be okay with it?"

"Yeah. They fell in love when they were thirteen."

"I see."

"It's a very romantic story."

"Hmm."

Christy rolled her eyes again. "It wasn't like you're thinking Mom. She didn't end up pregnant at sixteen. She's your age."

"I wasn't judging."

"Parents always judge."

"I try not to Christiana. A lot of parents wouldn't let their child date someone with green hair, even if his father is a scientist."

"You're okay most of the time, Mom. Except when you treat me like I'm five and try to pretend that sex doesn't exist."

"You're too young to be thinking about sex."

Another dramatic eye roll.

"I didn't say I wanted to have it. But don't pretend like it's some dirty secret."

"Can we have this discussion later? Say in another four years?"

"You're doing it again Mom."

"We had the birds and the bees discussion Christy. Wasn't that enough?"

"I guess. I just want to know that when I get older if I have a question I can talk to you without you acting weird."

"Hopefully Christiana, by the time that comes up I will be ready."

Christy laughed. "Parents are weird."

"You're a part of me Christy."

"Don't go getting all sentimental on me, Mom. I know you love me. I've never once in my life doubted that, even if you can be a pain in the ass."

"Christy."

"Yes Mother, no filthy language. I'm terribly sorry."

The look on her daughter's face made her laugh.

"Can I see what your dad bought you?"

"There's nothing inappropriate. It's just jeans and t-shirts."

"Okay."

"He wanted to know if you had any old school pictures."

"I'm sure we probably have some somewhere."

"You got the biggest package every year. I'm sure you have a ton left. You're saving them to embarrass me when I get married."

Carina laughed. "You always look good in your school pictures."

"Yeah, right. Only parents like school pictures. They always turn out goofy like the picture on your drivers' license when you get older. But I told him you'd look."

"I'll look in the morning. If he's got an e-mail address I can scan a lot of your other pictures for him too."

"I'll tell him. He's picking me up next Saturday morning with his wife."

"Okay."

"I'm going to my room okay?"

"Yes dear."

Christy ran off up the stairs. Carina went to bed early, but had to fight with Christy to get her up in the morning because her daughter obviously hadn't.

She spent half the day digging through old pictures, and saw that she did have several copies of every year of Christy's school pictures. By the time she was halfway through scanning the other pictures into the computer, she realized there was no way she could do them all. She had too many.

So she set aside the ones that were similar, but it was almost three by the time she was done anyway.

Locke came home with Christy after school and ended up staying for dinner again. When she drove him home afterwards she spoke briefly with his parents. They were both very nice.

His mother was gorgeous, and his father was not what you'd think of as your typical scientist. He was tall with chin length dark hair and beautiful green eyes that he'd passed on to his son. And he had muscles like he worked out. She didn't know when he found time to work out. He was almost enough to make her drool.

When Locke's mother told her that Christy was all he talked about, she wasn't sure how to feel.

When they got in the car Christy said "I'm telling Clark that you were drooling over Locke's dad."

Feeling herself blush, Carina said "I was not."

"Yes you were. Maybe you should ask them if you can bring Clark to dinner so he can keep you in line."

"I hardly think that's necessary."

Christy laughed. "Just kidding Mom. I know he's hot. Locke is going to grow up to look just like him."

Carina laughed. "Maybe I should tell Locke you were drooling over his dad."

"I give. You don't tell Locke I think his dad's a hottie, and I won't tell your boyfriend okay?"

It felt strange to hear Christiana call Clark her boyfriend.

"Deal."

They both had a nice time at Locke's on Wednesday. His parents, Jasmine and Hunter, were both very intelligent and willing to answer any questions she had about their work.

She was having such a good time, she was hardly bothered when she looked out from the cozy kitchen where they were having coffee and noticed that Christy and Locke were holding hands in the living room.

They set a tentative date for the barbecue in the middle of June and even offered to hold it at their house since they had a much bigger yard. It turned out that they were just as interested in meeting people as people were in meeting them, but neither of them had a lot of free time.

She brought up the movie date with the kids, which they'd planned for the next Friday, but neither of them were able to go.

Friday night, she, Clark, Adele and Adam sat in the back of the theater while the kids sat in the middle. Christiana and Locke were holding hands, but it didn't look like Noelle was too thrilled with her 'date'.

Christy went home with Noelle to spend the night and Clark drove Locke home. She went home alone and was surprised when Clark showed up forty-five minutes later.

He liked Locke and said that he seemed very sincere in his interest in Christiana. She was touched by his concern about her daughter's almost boyfriend and felt her thoughts drifting to him being her stepfather.

They made love. She liked the feeling of waking up in his arms the next morning. He wanted her and Christy to come over to his place for dinner the next week. She agreed.

She had almost forgotten about Christiana's visit with her father and jumped when she came in the front door.

Christy gave her an amused smile when she saw Clark sitting at the table drinking his orange juice and was humming 'going to the chapel' when she went up the stairs. Clark thought it was funny too. Melicia had been teasing him constantly about their getting married as well.

When Brady knocked on the door, his wife standing shyly a step behind him, he shook Clark's hand and gave her a huge smile when she handed him the school pictures. When she asked him about an e-mail address to send the rest of the pictures to, Stacy offered hers since Brady hated computers as much as he hated cell phones.

Carina thought Stacy seemed very nice. Though it was strange to watch her daughter walk away with her father, she felt Christy was in good hands.

Clark went home, promising to call her later. When Christy came home, she was cheerful.

Brady and Stacy were talking about moving so they could be closer to Christy. She seemed excited about the idea. She really liked Stacy. Carina didn't hear another Brady coming out of her mouth instead of Dad.

Things were going almost too well. She was apprehensive.

Then three days after school got out for the summer, two things happened at once.

Things were still going well for her and Clark. Brady had put in a request for a transfer and hoped to be moved by the end of the summer. She'd agreed to let Christiana go out with Locke without parental supervision as long as it was with a group of friends, and she was home no later than 10:00.

Then, on the night of Christy's outing with Locke, she got a call from Clark. His ex-wife's current boyfriend had made an advance on Melicia.

Clark was incredibly pissed off and wanted to pick up both of his children right away, but his ex-wife refused since it wasn't his weekend to keep the kids.

Melicia was highly upset, wanted to go with her father and was threatening to run away.

The usually calm Andrew was trying to be the man of the house and protect his big sister and had locked his mother and her boyfriend out of the house.

Accusations were flying, which Carina got to hear all of. He had her on a three-way call with his ex-wife. He threatened to call the police, or child protective services, to have her back in court the following Monday. Sharon called him every name in the book and said she'd make sure he never got to see his children again.

Carina had a headache from all the yelling and felt helpless to do anything.

She'd offered to let Melicia and Andrew stay at her house but Sharon quickly dismissed the idea, telling her to keep out of something that wasn't her business and asking Clark why she was on the phone.

Clark had replied that he wanted a witness. That had started more nasty name calling.

Finally Sharon had agreed to let Clark trade a weekend if he would take the kids while she went on a cruise in July. He was more than willing. They agreed that it was best for Sharon's boyfriend to leave. He called Melicia's cell phone and had Andrew unlock the door.

She was glad that he had things semi-straightened out with his kids. Christy was going to be thrilled that Melicia was coming down. But in all of the chaos, she hadn't been able to tell Clark what she'd been trying to get up the nerve to call and tell him when he'd phoned her.

She was pregnant. She'd waited all day to take the test until Christiana was gone. She was scared shitless, felt too old to be starting over. Christy was going to be thrilled. She had no idea how Clark was going to react.

He'd talked about them taking a vacation together in August. He'd talked about them moving in together because he had a five-bedroom house. He wanted her in court with him when he managed to get Sharon back into court. But they hadn't discussed marriage seriously.

She was helplessly in love with him, though she hadn't put into words how she felt. She didn't know how she felt about marriage and wasn't ready to give up her house. This complicated things.

When Christy came home a few minutes before ten, she was excited at having finally been able to go out on an actual date.

But when she looked at her mother she said "What's wrong Mom?"

"Clark had a crisis with his kids. He's on his way to pick them up."

"What happened?"

"Sharon's boyfriend made a move on Melicia."

"That scumbag. Is she okay?"

"She's upset of course. But glad Clark is picking them up."

"That sucks. He's got to get custody now."

"It might help. I don't know. The whole situation is very complicated."

"Seems pretty simple to me."

"I know honey. I wish everyone saw it that way."

Christy looked hard at her mother. "That's not all is it? You've been upset all day. Is it the whole date thing? I thought you liked Locke."

"I do. If you're going to go out with anyone at your age, I'm glad it's him."

"So what is it then? Are you still freaked out because Clark asked us to move into his house? Or is it something with Dad? Are you regretting letting him see me?"

"Of course not honey. Your dad is fine. Everything looks good with his transfer. They're just getting a few loose ends tied up. I'm fine with him and Stacy being a part of your life. I'm not ready to give up our house right now, but Clark is fine with that."

"So what is it then? Did he ask you to marry him? Are you having his baby? Wait, he couldn't have asked you to marry him if he's okay with us not moving in right now. It would be pretty dumb to be married and not live in the same house. So you're pregnant right? Did you tell him?"

Carina was silent.

Christiana smirked. "You are pregnant and you didn't tell him yet. I have got to tell Melicia."

"Don't you dare Christiana."

"I was kidding Mom. She's got enough on her mind right now. But you didn't deny it. I'm going to be a big sister. Finally."

"Christiana." She sighed.

"Yes Mom?"

"Yes, I am pregnant and no I haven't told Clark. I would very much prefer if you kept this to yourself until I do tell him."

"So are you gonna marry him?"

"I don't know Christy. I have no idea how he's going to react."

"Are you kidding? He like worships you. It's totally adorable. And he wouldn't have to worry about you being a bitch like Sharon if you ever got divorced."

"Christy."

"What? She is a bitch. Even Melicia says so and it's her mother."

Carina sighed again. "Why don't you go upstairs and fill Noelle in on the details of your date? I need some time to think."

"Okay."

Noelle hadn't been able to go. She was grounded, but her parents hadn't had the heart to take away her cell phone.

Christy was halfway up the stairs when she turned around and grinned. "Can I help you name the baby?"

"We will discuss that remote possibility later okay?"

"Yes Mother. Goodnight."

She could only imagine what kind of names Christy would come up with.

She wanted a cigarette, but felt guilty even thinking about it. Finally she went upstairs and tossed and turned half the night.

Christy let her sleep in. When she went downstairs around 10 a.m. after her first bout of morning sickness, her daughter informed her that Clark was coming to pick her up and was taking the kids to the lake.

She was afraid for a minute that Christiana had told him about the pregnancy, but Christy read her mind again and said "I didn't tell him. He's just being nice."

Clark arrived a little after 11 with the kids. Christy immediately went to Melicia's side. The two girls became involved in a hushed conversation. Clark embraced her. She murmured into his ear "How are the kids doing?"

"They're still upset," he said quietly, looking from his daughter who wasn't wearing makeup for the first time since Carina had met her, to his son who was pressed up against the back window of the car, reading a comic book.

"They'll be okay. The creep didn't touch her, just said something very suggestive. I don't know what I would have done if he had hurt her. I have to get them out of that situation."

"I know."

"Do you want to come with us? I thought you looked like you could use a break, but if you want to come, you're more than welcome."

"It's okay. I don't want to make the kids have to squish up together in the backseat."

He squeezed her hand. "We need a bigger car. A minivan maybe."

Yeah, she thought, especially since they were going to have four kids soon instead of three.

"Yeah."

"You okay?"

"Yep."

"You're probably thinking about what you would have done if it would have been Christy."

The thought had crossed her mind, but it wasn't her current issue.

"I would feel the same way if it was Christiana babe. I look at her and see Mel at that age. It scares the hell out of me. You ever wish you'd had a boy instead?"

She laughed, looking at Andrew. "Sometimes, yeah."

"You want us to bring back dinner? There's that really great Italian place between here and the lake."

"Sure."

"I'll see you later." He gave her a long kiss.

"Bye Clark. Have fun. See you later Melicia, Andrew."

She looked at her daughter. "Behave Christiana."

Christy rolled her eyes. "Later Mom."

They all waved. She watched them drive away. She was tempted to tell Adele about her pregnancy or Jasmine, whom she'd gotten close to since Locke and Christy were spending so much time together, but it felt wrong. She had to tell Clark first. And she didn't want to interrupt his unexpected weekend with his kids, so it was going to have to wait until Monday morning when their mom picked them up.

The day flew by. Clark was back with the kids before she knew it. They ate dinner in the front yard. The kids all seemed in better moods. Christy was huddled with Melicia for the biggest portion of the meal. She was afraid that her daughter had let her secret slip because the girls kept glancing at her, but figured she was being paranoid.

When they left, Clark gave her another long kiss. The eye rolls from the girls had ceased since it was old hat. Christy went straight up to her room. Carina followed quickly after.

Monday morning she was so nervous that she almost didn't come out of the bathroom after she threw up. Her morning sickness with Christy had been hell. She wasn't looking forward to the next couple months.

When she went back down the hall to her bedroom she was tempted to go back to sleep, but she wanted to catch Clark before he left for work. Christy was blaring music from down the hall so sleep was pretty much out of the question anyway.

When she called Clark he answered and said "I was about to call you. I have some great news."

"Okay."

"Sharon had a change of heart. She wants to give me custody of the kids. Says she needs time to find herself. Of course she wants enough alimony to make up for the lack of child support, but I don't care. As long as the kids are safe, I'll pay her any amount of money."

"That's great."

"You should have seen Andrew's face light up. Mel's trying to play it cool, but she's really excited too."

"I'm happy for you."

"Thanks. I couldn't believe it when she called. She just picked them up, but I'm picking them up next weekend and they're coming home to stay. The lawyers should have the papers drawn up this afternoon."

"That's wonderful."

"It is. Is everything okay Carina? It seemed like there was something on your mind the other day."

"I'm fine. Clark, I have something to tell you."

"What's up?"

He sounded cautious; like he was afraid she was going to break up with him.

"I'm pregnant."

"You're pregnant?"

"Yes."

Silence. Then "Wow. That's great. That is absolutely fantastic." He paused. "Isn't it?"

She didn't know what to say.

"Carina?"

"Yes?"

"Aren't you happy?"

"I'm scared."

"Oh babe. There's no need to be scared. You're a wonderful mother. You'll make a wonderful step-mother too. I wanted to wait to ask you; to surprise you and be romantic when we went on vacation, but there's no time like the present right? Carina will you marry me?"

He'd just proposed, and over the phone even. She wanted to laugh, it was so absurd.

"Yes Clark. I'll marry you. But can we do it before I get too fat? I was huge when I was pregnant with Christy."

He laughed. "We can do it today if you want."

Today she thought?

"Um. Maybe it would be better to wait a little while at least."

He laughed again. "I want to take you out tonight to celebrate. Do you think Christy will want to come?"

"Noelle is ungrounded today. She's staying at her house tonight."

"Okay. I'll pick you up about six then?"

"Okay."

"I love you Carina."

"I love you too Clark."

"I can't wait to tell the kids. They're going to be so happy. Does Christy know?"

"Yeah. She wants us to let her name the baby."

"Why not? It'll be a family affair."

She giggled, feeling like a teenage girl herself.

"I've got to get to work babe. I'll see you later."

"Bye Clark."

Before she left for Noelle's, Christy scrutinized her mother. "You don't look pregnant."

"Thanks hon. I appreciate your concern."

Christy grinned. "No problem. I love you Mom."

"Love you honey. Behave yourself. No sneaking out to meet Locke okay?"

He only lived about a block away from Noelle. Christy hid a grin. Carina could tell that the thought had crossed her mind.

Clark showed up with a dozen roses and a hell of an engagement ring. The stone was huge. She hated to think what it had cost him, but he refused to tell her when she asked.

They had a quiet dinner at an expensive restaurant where the food was terrible. Neither of them could finish even half. They ended up going to a fast food drive through.

They cuddled like teenagers on the porch swing and then ended up making love in the backyard under the stars, a first for both of them.

They were married six weeks later in a somewhat unconventional wedding. They were married in a double wedding shared by Clark's sister Ashleigh, who was expecting a child also. Clark wasn't thrilled about his little sister's marriage but didn't let it show.

Christy spent their honeymoon with her father and Stacy who had taken over Carina's old house. Clark's kids spent it with Clark's parents.

Six months later everyone was settled in. Brady and Stacy got the news that they were expecting, having decided to try one last time for a child, so Christy was going to be a big sister times two.

She was thrilled and Carina was too. She thought that the woman that had replaced her in Brady's life had a hell of a lot to do with his turning his life around. Carina was content that her daughter had two parents and two step-parents who loved her very much.

The past was the past and good or bad, sometimes it needed to stay that way.

An Unexpected Family

She didn't want kids, she'd told her friend that over and over again.

Why in the hell had Abby done this? Yes, they'd been friends since Abby was 5 and she was 7. Yes, Abby's mother hadn't been the greatest mother herself and yes in any other circumstances she would have done anything for her friend. Just not this please not this Mackenzie thought.

She lit a cigarette and looked at the picture on her mirror of she and Abby taken a few years back and sighed, brushing a wayward tear from her cheek. "Why did you have to die on me?"

The thought that followed was, and why did you have to be dumb enough to think that I should be the one to raise your child?

It meant she'd be moving out of her crappy apartment and into Abby's house in the country that she'd bought with her husband before he had died, but it also meant that she had to take care of a child. A child she'd only met a few times because they lived too far apart to be able to get together very often. She didn't know what to do with a kid. Let alone a kid who was six years old and had lost her father at four and her mother just days ago.

She had to get her ass up, get her shit together and figure out what the hell she was going to do.

Wasn't it bad enough that she had lost her best friend she thought? She was having a hard time dealing with that, let alone trying to figure out how in the hell she was supposed to help her friend's daughter cope. She couldn't raise a kid.

She wasn't doing so hot herself, had a crappy job, a crappy apartment, a piece of shit car that she would be surprised if it got her to her friend's house.

She couldn't be anyone's mother, hell she shouldn't be anyone's mother. It had felt like some kind of divine intervention when her last boyfriend had beat her and made her lose their kid.

"Oh, Abby," she said as she threw her few clothes into her older than the hills duffel bag. "I'm gonna mess her up babe. I love you, but I can't raise your kid."

But what choice did she have she wondered? Abby's mom wouldn't want Willow. She had spent Abby's childhood trying to pretend she wasn't old enough to be a mother. Why would she want to admit she was old enough to be a grandmother?

She couldn't exactly drop a six-year-old child off on the doorstep of a hospital like you could do in some places with a baby you didn't want. And there was no way in hell she was turning the kid over to social services.

She knew that the greedy fucks who didn't take the kids that needed to be away from their parents even more often than they took kids away from parents that didn't deserve it, got bonuses for adopting kids out.

Not only would Abby probably haunt her forever if she turned Willow over to those bottom feeders, she'd never forgive herself.

When Abby had told her that she'd changed her will after Trent died, to make Mackenzie the guardian of her child, she had laughed.

"I can't wipe a kid's ass," she'd said.

Abby had sighed and said "She's four Kenzie. She's potty trained."

"I can't be a mother."

"I'm not asking you to be her mother. Be her mother's best friend, her aunt. I don't care what she calls you. Just tell me that you'll take care of her for me if I die."

"You're not gonna die. I'm the one that's old."

"Not funny, Kenzie. Please."

And not thinking that her friend was going to die, especially not two years later, she'd reluctantly agreed. And now she was stuck.

Man that poor kid was going to grow up all fucked in the head Mackenzie thought. She didn't know how to shop for groceries. She didn't know what kids liked to eat, what they were supposed to eat.

She hoped Abby had left her an instruction manual. She couldn't take care of a goldfish. She couldn't be responsible. She couldn't quit smoking and she still drank so much sometimes that she blacked out.

She'd checked out a book from the library about kids, but she couldn't get past the first chapter. It was like a foreign language to her.

She threw her meager possessions into the trunk of her car and got behind the wheel.

She figured it would probably be easier to take a plane out to Abby's place, a much shorter trip anyway, but not only did she not have the money for the ticket, she hated planes.

She'd had to eat a lot of macaroni and cheese since she'd gotten her last paycheck so she could have the gas money to make it to Abby's.

At least her piece of shit car was pretty good on gas she thought. And she needed to clear her head anyway, listen to some tunes, and feel her hair blowing in the breeze.

She wouldn't miss this crappy town, she mused as she reached the city limits. And at least Abby hadn't gone back to the shithole where they'd grown up, like she'd always said she'd wanted to.

That was not something Mackenzie could have handled. Dealing with her parents, her older brother, the small town small mindedness, no thank you.

It was a twelve-hour drive. She was planning to drive straight through, but her car started making a funny noise. She pulled over into the parking lot of a gas station, still about three hours out from Abby's place.

Darkness had fallen. She wished she had a flashlight as she popped her hood, but then it started smoking, and she stepped back.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath.

She did not have the time or the money for this she thought.

"Looks like you got a problem," a male voice said right in her ear.

She almost jumped. She turned slightly and saw that the gas station attendant was behind her. He looked just as creepy as he sounded.

He was skinny, and barely taller than her 5'8 with greasy hair and dirty fingernails. She'd always hated dirty fingernails.

"Let me take a look," he said, as his eyes drifted back up from her ass.

She silenced the grimace that she felt coming and moved back.

"Looks like you need a new radiator."

Shit, she thought. The mechanic at the shop she took it to get her oil changed had told her the same thing, but she'd ignored him, thinking he wanted to get more money out of a woman who knew little to nothing about cars.

"You'd have driven much further this baby wouldn't be goin' nowhere."

"Damn. Can you fix it? Can someone fix it?"

"The mechanic won't be in 'til the morning. He'll do it for cheap. I'll let him know that you're a friend of mine."

Oh yuck, she thought. He was leering at her in the way that had once made her punch a guy when she was drunk. She could smell a combination of bad breath and B.O coming from him.

"I think I'll be okay with full price."

Of course it meant she would have to beg her parents to loan her the money, or more likely her brother, but it wasn't like she couldn't pay it back. The lawyer had told her that the house was free and clear, taxes paid for both this year and the next. After the funeral and other expenses, she'd be left with about $50,000.

Which should take care of her and Willow until she'd found a job and figured out the whole child care thing. The girl was in school now, but summer was just around the corner. She couldn't remember if Abby had mentioned where she left her daughter when she was at work.

The creep, whose shirt said Paulie, gave her a dirty look and went back inside the store. She dug out her cell phone and called her parents' house.

Her brother answered. "Hello."

"Hey Taylor. I need a favor."

"Mom and Dad aren't here."

"I don't need them. I need you."

"I ain't got nothing Mac, forget it."

Yeah right she thought. He paid their parents very little in rent, kicked in for groceries sometimes and had a surprisingly well paying job for a weirdo who lived in his parents' basement.

"Tay, I can pay you back. Just wire me the money and I'll have it back to you as soon as the lawyer hands me the check."

"No."

"Don't be an asshole. My car broke down, Abby's funeral is in three days, and her daughter is stuck with a neighbor until I get there. I can't be stranded because my brother's a jerk."

"Screw you Mackenzie."

"What do you want Taylor? You want me to beg, like you used to make me do when we were kids? I think we're a little too old for that don't you? I just need $500. I'll give you $750 back."

"That's half a week's paycheck Mac."

Yeah she thought. It used to be a whole week's paycheck for her, sometimes two.

"I am begging you. The creep from the gas station is staring at my tits. If he doesn't stop I'm going to smack the shit out of him and probably end up in jail."

Her brother laughed. "You know they ain't got a money wiring place here."

"Do it online. Please, please."

"You owe me for this little sis. Where the hell are you?"

After she'd hung up with her brother, she noticed a little diner about a block up. Maybe she could wait there until the money was available. Anything had to be better than being undressed with their eyes by a creep like Paulie she thought.

After she'd helped him push her car to a spot in front of the auto shop she told him that she was going to head over to the diner to wait for her wire to come through.

He gave her a pout. "I wish you'd wait until I get off. I'll take you out to dinner."

"No thanks. I'm a lesbian. My lover died and I'm on my way to pick up our daughter."

He looked closely at her, trying to see if she was serious. She kept a straight face and then he said "That sucks," and went back inside.

When she was safely away from him she burst out laughing, thinking that Abby would have loved that.

She sobered as she neared the diner, her smile completely gone by the time she walked inside.

The place was deserted, and the waitress looked half asleep, but the smell from the kitchen was good.

She sat in a small booth and sipped the water the waitress brought her, looking at the menu.

She finally decided on the biscuits and gravy with hash browns and asked for a cup of coffee.

A really good looking guy came in while she was waiting for her food. Why couldn't he have offered to buy her dinner, she thought?

She told the waitress she was going outside for a smoke. The waitress nodded and she went out the door.

She lit her cigarette and watched the guy settling into a booth, spreading out a newspaper.

Damn he was hot, she thought. Chin length dark hair, a small stud in his nose, a hoop through his lip. He looked like every mother's worst nightmare and her fantasy come true. She was practically drooling.

She put out her cigarette, and tried not to stare when she went back into the restaurant. But he seemed absorbed in the paper, occasionally taking a drink from the coffee mug that was beside him.

She almost jumped when the waitress brought her food, because now she was openly staring. The waitress grinned, showing a gap between her front teeth. "You don't want to mess with that one."

"Oh yeah," Mackenzie said. "Why not?"

"He's bad news."

"Hmm."

The waitress walked away. Bad news, hell she had plenty of bad news to deal with these days, a lot of people thought SHE was bad news.

She lingered over her dinner, watching him out of the corner of her eye, imagining herself in bed with him.

It had been a while. She even missed her last boyfriend Bentley sometimes. He'd been wonderful in bed when he wasn't trying to get her to do something disgusting. Or when he wasn't beating her, or when he couldn't get it up because he was too drunk or too high.

She sighed as she paid her bill and went outside. Mr. 'Bad News' was still reading the paper. She didn't have the guts to approach him under the watchful eye of the waitress.

She lit a cigarette and called the number to check and see if her cash was available.

It wasn't there. She didn't want to go back to the gas station. What if her brother was being an asshole and didn't send the money she thought? He'd probably think it was funny. He could be downright weird and had tortured her with endless teasing when they were children.

She was about to give up and go back to the gas station when the hottie walked out of the diner.

"Excuse me," she said.

When he didn't turn around, she cleared her throat and said it louder "Excuse me."

He turned around finally, looking at her with a pair of icy blue eyes.

"My car broke down and I have to wait until the morning to get it fixed. Do you know where a motel is around here?"

"Within walking distance? There isn't one."

Wonderful, she thought.

"It's just a ways from my place. I'll take you."

"I have to go back to the gas station and pick up the money my brother sent me."

"Come on. I'm Kyle, by the way."

"Mackenzie."

She followed him to his car, which was a black mustang that practically purred when he started it. She sat uncomfortably in the passenger seat as he headed back towards the gas station, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the music.

When he pulled up, Paulie came out. "Hey, Kyle," he said, then seeing her in the passenger seat, said "Oh," and gave her a dirty look.

"Lesbian my ass," she heard him mutter under his breath.

"You're a lesbian huh?" Kyle said.

Her face was on fire. "Uh, no. I told him I was so he'd leave me alone."

He laughed. "He's real popular with the ladies."

She laughed with him and then checked one last time to see if her money was there. Luckily it was. She gave the information to Paulie. He took his time getting her money, counting and recounting it. She wanted to snatch it from his hand by the time he finally handed it over.

"Steve's here at eight tomorrow. I'll let him know about your car. He'll start on it first thing."

"Thanks."

He was still mad at her, and just gave her a brusque nod. Not mad enough not to check out her ass again on the way out the door, though.

She settled back into the car and Kyle took off. He made polite conversation as they drove toward the motel, but she couldn't keep up. He was just too gorgeous. She couldn't keep her mind off of what he would taste like, how his hands would feel roaming her body.

When they pulled up in front of the seedy looking motel with the mostly empty parking lot, she wanted to beg him to let her stay with him instead.

"It doesn't look like much, but at least it's clean."

She nodded. "Thanks for the ride."

"I couldn't let you walk all this way. It's not like you're going to get a taxi around here."

He waited while she went inside and rented a room. He carried her bag to the room for her.

Bad news, he was the politest guy she'd met in a long time. If only he weren't so polite, if only he wanted her as much as she wanted him she mused.

They said goodbye, and she watched him walk back to his car. Shit she thought, she couldn't let him leave.

She ran after him, reaching him as he shut the door of his car.

"Would you like to come in for a minute?"

He studied her for a moment, then reached over and took the keys out of his ignition. "Why not?"

She didn't know what to do when she had him in her room. She knew what she wanted to do, knew what she wanted him to do to her, but you couldn't exactly say the things that you could when you were drunk to someone you'd just met when you were sober.

One night stands, yeah she'd had a few in the past couple years, she'd said some pretty dirty things to guys when she was drunk. A couple ran through her mind, but she couldn't say them to Kyle.

So what she did was say fuck it in her mind, and lean over and kiss him. She laid one on him, like she hadn't kissed a guy since her high school boyfriend. He had wanted to wait to have sex until he was married when she'd wanted it so bad she could taste it.

Kyle sat back, looking almost stunned.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"I'm glad you did. Everyone around here avoids me like the plague."

"Why?"

"You don't want to know. Sometimes you just need to forget. Can we try that again?"

Yes, she thought, oh yes. She let him make the first move. He took it slow, when all she wanted to do was tear his clothes off. But oh could he kiss. He kissed her like he was drowning and she was the only one that could save him, he kissed her like she was the only woman on earth.

When they parted several minutes later she said "Wow. Why aren't you married?"

"I was."

"Oh."

The look on his face told her he didn't want to talk about it. "I need a cigarette and we haven't even had sex yet. Do you mind?"

He shook his head. She was nervous, trying not to put her foot in her mouth, but it seemed to be happening all the same.

"I don't usually do things like this. Well, when I'm sober anyway."

He didn't crack a smile. Oops, she thought, I need to shut up or I'm never going to get laid.

"I'm sorry. I tend to talk too much when I'm nervous. You're so good looking. I can't believe women aren't falling all over you all the time."

"People pretty much leave me alone. Where are you headed?"

"To my best friend's funeral. She gave me custody of her daughter. I think she was crazy to do it."

"Why?"

He looked like he really wanted to know.

"I smoke too much and I drink too much. I don't do much of a job of taking care of myself most days. I don't know how to take care of a kid."

"There must be some reason she trusted you to take care of her daughter."

"Other than the fact that she was my best friend? I wouldn't trust me with a kid."

He squeezed her hand. "She obviously did. No one knows how to be a parent before their kids are born. It's something that's part instinct and part learning as you go. How old is she?"

"She's six. Her dad died just over two years ago. I don't have a maternal bone in my body."

"You'd be surprised. People change when they need to. They do things they never would have believed possible. I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Well, at least someone has faith in me. When I told my brother about it, he laughed his ass off. Of course he still lives in our parents' basement."

Mackenzie's next thought was that they needed to get back to the business at hand. Kyle was wonderful to talk to. He actually seemed interested in what she was saying. From spending the short time around him that she had, she could almost bet that he'd make a much better boyfriend than Bentley ever had.

But she didn't have time for a boyfriend right now. She only had tonight, and then she had to go back to dealing with the real world. Yeah, she thought I'm just as bad as any man out for nothing other than a piece of ass.

She put her cigarette out and pulled her shirt over her head, reaching around to undo her bra.

She pressed him gently back to the bed and straddled him, kissing him deeply, letting him know that she meant it.

When they were both completely nude, he said "I don't have a condom."

She fumbled through her purse, figuring she should have at least one shoved in there that wasn't past its expiration date. But she didn't. And there was no way in hell she was making him go back to the gas station to get one.

She sighed. Should she or shouldn't she? He looked so good lying on the bed with his toned chest and muscular arms. When was she ever going to get the chance to have sex with a guy that looked that good again? Probably never she thought.

Have sex with him? Hell, she'd videotape it for posterity if she could.

"It's okay," she said.

Then she kissed him again and the point was moot because he was inside her. It felt so good she wanted to scream. She left nail marks on his back, she bit his shoulder, and she tangled her fingers in his hair.

When he came to orgasm, he whispered her name into her ear. She told him he was the best she'd ever had and she meant it. Bentley and his kinks which were sometimes more pleasurable than she liked to admit, even to herself; didn't hold a candle to Kyle.

When she woke up at eight a.m. the next morning, she expected Kyle to be gone. But he was in the shower, humming to himself. She had a feeling that he hadn't been with a woman in a long time.

She'd thought her nine months was pretty pathetic. But she was so disgusted with herself after three drunken nights in a row with three different guys, not to mention the two fer a couple weeks before, that she figured she'd rather be celibate than have sex with whatever sleazebag she'd met at the bar that night.

He came out of the shower just as she was finishing her cigarette. "Good morning."

"Mornin'."

She put out her cigarette, and looked up at him. He was wearing his jeans but no shirt. He looked gorgeous.

"How long do you think it will take them to fix my car?"

"What was wrong with it?"

"Radiator is what Paulie thought. They'll probably find a thousand other things wrong with it, though. It was a piece of crap when I bought it and it's only gotten worse since."

"I like fixing cars. If you had more time, I'd take it to my house and fix everything for you for free."

"I wish I did have more time. But Abby's funeral is in two days. Willow is staying with a neighbor of theirs until I get there."

"Steve's good but he's slow. It might take most of the day for him to fix it."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, he's almost seventy but he's still the best mechanic in town."

"Wow."

"We can go check on it if you want. Paulie thinks he knows a lot more about cars than he really does. It could be something simple. I'll help Steve if he'll let me, to get you out of here quicker."

He was so sweet she thought. Why couldn't she have met him instead of Bentley? Oh yeah, because he probably wouldn't have beaten her or fucked around and she'd probably have a kid by now. Not that she wasn't going to have a child to take care of as soon as she got to Willow.

Panic almost set in again. Willow was going to hate her. She would make a really crappy aunt, let alone all the poor kid had in the world.

"Thank you."

While he took her stuff out to the car, and called the shop to see if Steve had found out what was wrong with her car, she took a quick shower. He was still on the phone when she went to check out. He shook his head when she got to him, hanging up the phone.

"He said your radiator's shot. He can't fix the leak. He's got to put a new one in. If you would have driven much further you would have blown your engine."

"Damn. So it is going to take all day then?"

"Unfortunately yes. He's sending Paulie out to look for a radiator."

"Ugh."

"I'll protect you from Paulie. He hit on my wife." He almost choked on the word, and she wondered if it was a bad divorce or if she was dead. "And I almost decked him."

"Why didn't you?" She would have liked to deck him herself last night.

"Didn't want to end up in jail. Didn't want to take him out in front of my kid."

Oh boy, a kid, too, she thought.

Where was his family and why wasn't he there too? He didn't seem like the type of man that would just walk away.

"They're gone. Three years now."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I. Everyone thinks it was my fault. That's why everyone stays away from me."

"How was it your fault?"

"I wasn't home. We lived out of town, there were no neighbors, didn't have a dog or an alarm system. Two guys broke in, raped my wife and killed her. Our son must have come downstairs after they were done. His death was an afterthought. They didn't even have the right house. They were looking for drugs and money. We didn't have either. But it's still my fault. Working late, trying to make sure our son could go to college."

"That's so sad. How could people blame you? It obviously wasn't your fault."

"No one here ever liked me much. My wife grew up here, she was everyone's sweetheart. Head cheerleader, prom queen. Everyone thought she should marry the football captain. Didn't matter that they dated for three years and then he told her he was gay. I was an outsider, a guy with long hair and piercings. No way could I ever be good enough for Danika. They were all chomping at the bit, waiting for me to fuck up. Girls came on to me like mad. When she got pregnant, they were kind of resigned. But they never really accepted me. They never will."

"So why are you still here?"

"My memories of my family are here. Danika was so much more than what they thought of her. She was so smart, so kind. I never understood why she wanted to come back here. She could have been anything, done anything. But she missed home."

"I don't miss home."

"Me neither. I don't know where home is anymore. You want to go to my place? I'll make breakfast."

"Sure."

They pulled up to a small two story house a few minutes later. The garage was almost as big as the house. He'd obviously put a lot of work into it. There was a deck out back and a little garden beyond that. She wondered if this was where he'd lived with his family, but decided it couldn't be.

There were neighbors on both sides less than a quarter mile away.

"You want to sit on the deck? It's such a nice morning."

"Sure." She followed him to the deck and sat in a comfortable chair.

"You want coffee?"

"Okay."

He was back within a couple of minutes with a big mug of coffee and cream and sugar. She accepted it and said "That was fast."

"My coffeepot starts automatically at six a.m."

"Oh."

"What sounds good for breakfast? Are you a cereal girl or do you want a real breakfast? Eggs, toast, bacon, hash browns."

"A real breakfast sounds good to me."

"Good. I don't have anything besides bran cereal."

She made a face.

"I don't eat much cereal. You can sit in the kitchen or wait out here. Either is fine with me."

"I think I'll stay out here. You have such a nice place. It's very peaceful."

"Yeah."

He was lonely she thought. He was punishing himself because HE blamed himself for the death of his wife and son. She was probably the first woman he had had sex with since her death.

Guilt hit her then. She'd taken advantage of him, seen him as nothing more than a sex object.

But he'd known she was leaving, and had willingly given himself to her. Maybe he'd needed her as much last night as she'd needed him. The thought comforted her a little. She closed her eyes and was half asleep when he came out with two plates heaping with food.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

He was way too gorgeous for his own good, never mind what he did to her she thought.

"Do you want jelly or anything?"

"No, it looks great. Thank you."

She hadn't had a meal like this home cooked for a while.

She hated cooking, which meant either she was going to have to learn to live with it, or she and Willow were going to be eating a lot of takeout.

They were silent as they ate. When they had finished and he had taken the plates back inside and then rejoined her on the deck, she said "Kyle."

"Hmm?"

"Do you regret last night?"

He took her hand. "I don't Mackenzie. I wish that we had more time to spend together. I wouldn't mind getting to know you better. But I think it was something we both needed. Sex doesn't have to be dirty, even between two people that just met."

He'd put into words what she was feeling almost exactly. All the other times she'd had sex with some guy she'd just met, she'd felt dirty and disgusting afterwards and couldn't wait to get home to shower or for the loser she'd been dumb enough to invite to her place to get the hell out the door so she could shower. With him, it had been different. It hadn't been dirty. It had felt right.

"Thank you."

He looked amused. "For what?"

"For making me realize that good guys do exist."

He smiled. "You had forgotten?"

"I never really had a relationship with a guy that wasn't out for something else. That wanted to be with me to be with me. Not because I have nice tits or a nice ass, or he wants to do something disgusting and demeaning to me. Hey," she said, only half kidding. "You want to come help me raise this kid?"

"I wish I could. Maybe we can get together again sometime."

"I'd like that."

It had started to rain.

"Let's go inside."

"Wait. Don't you ever want to do what you did when you were a kid? Jump in puddles, let yourself get soaked?"

"I did that once with my son."

There was a note of sadness in his voice.

"So let's do it again." She stood up and kissed him. "Have you ever made love in the rain?"

"No. Have you?"

"No. But now seems like a damn good time to start."

"I still don't have protection, but I do have neighbors."

"So what? They're far enough away that they won't see anything. That lounge chair is angled so that the table's in the way. And they don't like you anyway, so who really cares if they do see?"

She thought for a moment that she'd gone too far with the last part, but he grinned suddenly.

"I like the way you think Mackenzie."

It was as good as the night before, if not better. By the time they were done, they were both soaked.

Picking up their wet, now muddy clothes, they ran naked into the house and took a long, leisurely shower together.

She was tired so she took a nap in his bed while he ran into town to check on her car. His room smelled good, and was neater than her bedroom had been back at the apartment.

She was going to miss this man. But hopefully they'd either be able to get together once she was halfway settled with Willow, or she'd forget him in all the craziness of taking care of a six-year-old child who had lost both her parents within two years.

When she woke up, she could smell the scent of food coming from outside. He was barbecuing.

The longer she knew him, the more she liked him. She hadn't had a barbecue for a long time.

Even his bed was comfortable. It made her think of the fact that she'd be sleeping in her best friend's bed within a couple nights, and that would feel weird. Not that they hadn't had plenty of sleepovers when they were kids, but they were grown now. And Abby was gone.

She got up and used his bathroom, noticing that it was neat as well. No toothpaste on the sink, no shaving cream drying, no hair in the sink. The women in this town must be crazy not to snatch him up.

He'd even washed her clothes when she'd been napping.

He was on the deck when she arrived outside, flipping a steak. She was amused when she noticed that he'd made steak, hamburgers, hot dogs and chicken. There was enough food to feed a family of five.

He'd even cooked several small foil wrapped bunches of potatoes and vegetables.

He saw the look on her face. "I didn't know what kind of meat you liked."

"It's okay. You'll have leftovers for a week."

"Your car should be ready by 4 or so. I took care of the bill."

"I can't let you do that."

He shrugged. "He was overcharging you anyway. Paulie is his second cousin twice removed or something and told him you were a bitch. Well, that's not the word he used, but let's just say that it wasn't a very nice word."

"Was it the c word?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Yeah."

She'd been called a cunt before, mostly by creeps she chose NOT to go home with from the bar.

"Don't worry about it Mackenzie. My wife and son were both well insured, and I had a nice chunk put away for college for Jerrick. Another reason people liked me even less after I lost my family than they did when they were alive."

"Seriously?"

"The cops tried to prove that I had a hit put out on my family."

"And you're still here?"

"I think part of it is just to piss people off. It was about the memories at first, but you can take memories with you anywhere."

"Yeah. "

That was all she had sometimes to get her through, to remind her that she was still human.

The memories of the crazy things she'd done with Abby and the rest of their little clique that had grown apart.

"I'll be right back."

He came out armed with ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise and barbecue sauce.

There were already two plates on the table and a pan to hold the cooked food. She chose a chicken breast and potatoes and sat across from him at the table.

"You don't like steak?"

She shook her head. "Not really."

"Neither did my wife."

They were both quiet for a minute.

"Kyle."

"What?"

"Do you ever want to walk away from your life?"

He laughed bitterly. "Only a thousand times a day. But you can't run from the past. It always catches up with you. No matter how much you try to shut it out, it's still there waiting for you. What do you want to run away from Mackenzie?"

"Just about everything I've done since I turned 18. I'm not a very good person."

"Everyone has some good inside them."

"I don't know about that."

"Human nature is not what people think it is. True emotions are often overcome by the weaknesses of society. Our base emotions are love, friendship, compassion, empathy. It gets twisted by stupid desires. The things that we're taught to want when we grow up. Does the big house really matter, if you don't have anyone to share it with? Does a nice car mean anything when you can't afford the payments and it gets repossessed? Does the promotion you got at work mean anything when you had to screw over your only true friend at your job to get it?"

She shook her head slowly. "I guess not."

"If you want to run away because you had sex with more people than you think is morally right, or because you stayed in a bad relationship, it's only because you're human. Lust is a perfectly normal feeling, and sometimes it seems easier to stick with someone who's no good for you because you don't want to be alone. You're dropping everything to raise your friend's child. How bad of a person does that make you?"

She shrugged. Would she have stepped up and taken care of Abby's child if she'd been given a choice she wondered? Probably not. She would have gone to the funeral and then walked away, maybe dropped a line or made a phone call now and then to make sure the kid was doing okay.

"You may not realize it now Mackenzie, but there are always choices. You're making the choice to take care of your friend's daughter. I know a lot of people that wouldn't do that. No matter how long they'd been friends with someone."

"But I'm scared Kyle. My parents sucked. They didn't know how to raise kids. It's not that they didn't try; they just never seemed to get it right. What if I mess Willow up so bad that she hates me forever?"

"It's not going to be easy. A child that has lost both parents has a lot to deal with. But I'm sure you'll do fine. I know people whose parents were probably a lot worse than yours and they raised perfectly normal children."

"But I don't know anything about kids."

She took the last bite of her chicken and pushed the plate away, taking a sip of the perfectly sweetened iced tea that he'd sat in front of her.

"What if she gets sick? What if she ends up pregnant at thirteen? Abby would kill me if I let something like that happen."

He laughed.

"It's not funny," she muttered, lighting a cigarette.

Then she realized that he'd lost his child and grimaced. "I'm sorry Kyle. You must think I'm such a bitch, whining like this."

He squeezed her hand briefly and then let go. "I was scared to death when Danika got pregnant. I drove her so crazy that she threatened to kick me out of the house. When Jerrick was born, I was afraid I'd do something terrible like drop him on his head. I wouldn't give him a bath for months. I was afraid I'd drown him. By the time he was six months old, I barely felt like a father. I'd let my insecurities take over so much that I couldn't enjoy my son. Danika got sick of it and left me alone with him for the weekend while she went off with some friends from high school. It was a rough first day, but we got through it. And after that, I knew that I couldn't let my son's childhood pass me by because I was afraid I was going to do something wrong. We're all flawed Mackenzie, but you can't let your humanness hold you back from giving the best of yourself to a child. A child that needs you. Yes, she'd probably be a lot happier if her parents hadn't died. But you're what she's got now. I think your friend saw something in you that you don't want to admit is there."

She shook her head. "Abby was always the one that was babysitting all the time. She wanted like ten kids. Then she had one and said she didn't want any more."

"Be thankful that she didn't have ten," Kyle teased.

She cracked a smile. "There's always a bright side isn't there? Here, let me help you with the dishes."

He shrugged her off. "They're just going in the dishwasher. You can help me put stuff away though."

Once the leftovers were in the fridge and the dishwasher was running, they went back outside to the deck.

It was after two. Her car would be ready soon. She wasn't looking forward to leaving. After the funeral, she'd have to figure out what to do with Abby's things. Though it was a lot easier to think about what to do with her friend's material possessions than it was to think about what she was going to do with her child.

They sat outside and talked. It felt to her like they were old friends. A little after 4, Kyle's cell phone rang.

"Hello. Okay. We're on our way."

He hung up the phone and said "Steve wants to go home. He's threatening to leave the keys in your car and take off."

Sighing, she followed him to his car. "Not that anyone would want to steal that piece of crap."

He laughed. "You should have seen my first car. It made a hell of a racket when you tried to go faster than 45 on the highway. Hell, the first car Danika and I had after we were married was a hunk of junk. I only got this thing because I'd always wanted a mustang."

"It's nice."

"I got a couple of really expensive speeding tickets after Danika and Jerrick died."

"I'm sure."

They pulled up to the gas station. She could see an old man in greasy coveralls tapping his foot impatiently and drumming his fingers on the hood of her car.

When she got out, he threw her the keys without a word and walked away.

"Wow, what a reception," she muttered to Kyle.

"You must have really pissed Paulie off."

"Screw him. He probably couldn't tell you what my face looked like. He was too busy looking at my chest."

Kyle cupped her face in his hands and gave her the sweetest kiss she'd ever had. "It was really nice meeting you Mackenzie."

"You, too."

He reached through the open window of his car and pulled out his cell phone. "Give me your number. Maybe I can come for a visit when you and Willow get adjusted to living together."

"That'll probably be in about twelve years," she quipped.

He put his arms around her, and held her for a long time. She looked over his shoulder and saw that a couple in the gas station and the bored looking attendant were watching them.

So she gave him a kiss that involved a lot of tongue, and then took his phone from him, putting in her number.

She put his into her phone and said "Well, I guess this is goodbye."

"I guess so," he said softly, briefly touching her face. "Let me follow you out of town to make sure your car's running okay."

"You don't think he did something or didn't fix it right because I was a bitch to Paulie, do you?"

"Steve's a good guy. I just want to make sure that it's running okay."

She gave him a look, but said "Okay."

The city limits were only a few miles away. She could see the sleek black car in her rearview mirror. It was comforting.

She wished he could follow her all the way to Abby's, hold her hand during the funeral, help her deal with Abby's bitch of a mother.

She pulled over on the side of the road just past the city limit sign and got out of the car.

He pulled up behind her and got out, embracing her briefly. "Good luck Mackenzie."

"Thanks. I need it."

"No you don't. You'll be fine. Give it a year and you two will be so close that you'll want to have ten yourself."

She snorted. "Yeah, right."

He winked at her. "You have my number."

"Do you charge $3.99 a minute for phone sex?"

He laughed. "Not for you. I'll never forget the woman that convinced me to make love in the rain."

"You'd better not. Goodbye Kyle."

"Goodbye Mackenzie."

There was a lump in her throat. Why did it feel so wrong to walk away from a man that she'd just met she wondered? She waved, lit a cigarette and watched him walk back to his car.

He honked. She started the ignition, and then they drove off in opposite directions.

Her car ran smoothly the rest of the way to Abby's house. She arrived a little after 8 p.m.

There was a note on the door with the phone number of the neighbor that Willow was staying with. Should she go pick her up now or should she wait until morning she wondered? How late did six year olds stay up? It felt like forever since she'd been six.

She sat down on the front steps and lit another cigarette, pondering. She had to go talk to the lawyer in the morning, sign all the paperwork. She didn't want to have to drag Willow with her for all that if she didn't have to. She took the sticky note off the door and dialed the number.

"Hello," a man's gruff voice said.

"Um, is Nancy there?"

"Just a sec."

A woman's voice came to the phone a moment later. "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Mackenzie. Abby's friend."

"Hi hon. Willow's sleeping."

"Oh, okay. I wasn't sure whether to pick her up tonight or in the morning."

"She's fine here for tonight. We've been trying to keep her occupied. Luckily she's good friends with our little girl so it hasn't been so bad."

"How is she?"

"Lost without her mother. But she's looking forward to seeing you. Abby always said you were like the sister she never had."

Her eyes filled up. "I miss her."

"We all do. It was so hard when Trent died. Now Abby. But Willow's a tough kid. You'll be fine. And we're always here if you need us."

"Thank you. I guess I'll pick her up tomorrow morning then?"

"That's fine. I know you'll have some things to take care of, so we'll make sure she has breakfast."

"I really appreciate it."

"No problem. She's a doll. She's more than welcome here anytime."

"Goodnight Nancy and thank you again."

"Anytime. Goodnight Mackenzie."

She hung up the phone and took out the key that Nancy had left under the mat for her.

Taking a deep breath, she let herself into her friend's empty house.

It was quiet. Way too quiet. They were never quiet when they were kids, giggling and whispering all hours of the night, driving their parents' crazy.

"I miss you Abby," she murmured into the stillness of the house.

There was a trace of her friend's favorite perfume in the air. She sighed and went up the stairs.

The door to Willow's bedroom was open. It was the bedroom that Abby had wanted as a little girl but had never had-pink and purple with frilly curtains and stuffed animals on the bed.

Did Willow really like this stuff she wondered? She flicked the light switch and saw a closet full of dresses with shiny shoes lined up neatly on the floor. Very girly. Willow had seemed more like a tomboy when she'd met her than a girly girl.

Had Abby been trying to turn her little girl into the child she hadn't been able to be because her mother was a drunk who paid more attention to her boyfriend of the moment than she ever had to her child?

She sighed again as she clicked off the light. Willow probably liked her room. She felt guilty thinking bad thoughts about her friend.

She went down the hall to Abby's room, her hand shaking slightly as she turned on the light.

A picture of Abby and Trent at their wedding stared at her from the dresser. They looked so young, so happy, and so full of life. How could they be storing her friend in a box, getting ready to put her in a hole in the ground?

"Oh Abby. I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat babe. It should be you raising your daughter, not me."

She sat down on the edge of the bed, knowing she couldn't sleep in her friend's bed tonight, maybe not ever. It felt wrong to sleep in the bed where her best friend had slept, where she'd made love to her husband when he'd been alive. Abby had confessed that she hadn't been able to part with their bed after Trent had died.

She opened doors in the hallway until she found the linen closet and pulled out a blanket and a pillow and took it downstairs to the couch. She lay on the couch staring at the ceiling, wondering if she could do this. Finally she threw off the blanket and went outside for a cigarette.

She tossed and turned on the couch until after midnight, exhaustion finally taking her into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

She woke up around eight the next morning, went outside for a cigarette and then went in the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. She supposed she was going to have to quit smoking, was definitely going to have to quit drinking.

After she'd had a cup of coffee, she went upstairs and took a shower. It was still too weird being in her friend's house without her being there. Maybe she and Willow would get a dog. Yeah right she thought. It was going to be hard enough taking care of herself and Willow, and figuring out what of her friend's she was going to keep and what she was going to get rid of.

It was all hers, besides of course Willow's college fund. And of course she'd let Willow keep anything she wanted from her parents. The only things Abby had gotten rid of of Trent's had been his clothes. His pickup was in the garage, and all his tools and other things were still in the garage and basement. She and her friend had grown up with very different tastes. She could hardly keep any of Abby's clothes. Abby had been a couple inches shorter than her and weighed at least forty pounds less than she did.

Should she keep Abby's car she wondered? It was a lot nicer than hers and probably ten years newer, but it was almost too nice. Trent had made good money and so had Abby. Though the house was furnished pretty simply and they hadn't had a lot of extravagant things, Mackenzie was a simple girl.

Maybe she could sell the cars and get a newer car she thought. Maybe a hybrid because she didn't know how good of a job she could get with her experience. She and Willow would need to be pinching pennies indefinitely until she FOUND a job. She sighed.

It felt disloyal to her friend to be thinking about getting rid of all her things. But she had a kid to raise and she didn't have Abby's college degree.

She needed to get her butt in gear, get the meeting with the lawyer over with and pick Willow up she thought.

She also had to buy something to wear to Abby's funeral. She didn't own anything nice enough. Willow should have something. Her closet was full of dresses. Then again weren't you supposed to wear black to a funeral? Ugh Mackenzie thought.

She went down the hall and into Willow's room, feeling a little uncomfortable invading the kid's personal space again. She flipped through the dresses. They were pastel colors mostly, even the purple was a light purple

So they would have to buy Willow something to wear as well. At least she had black shoes Mackenzie thought. She shut Willow's bedroom door and pulled her hair back into a ponytail on the way down the stairs.

She made sure the house key was in her purse, locked the door and went outside. She'd forgotten to lock her car again, but they were isolated and why would anyone want to mess with her car when Abby's was much nicer? This was actually Abby's second car.

The one she'd been driving in the accident had been totaled. Oh poor Abby, she thought as she started her car, cranking the window down and lighting a cigarette. Twenty-seven was way too young to die.

Trent had been young too, but he was five years older than Abby so he'd been thirty when he'd passed away.

She hoped she could find the lawyer's office without too much of a problem. He'd given her directions, but she'd never been the best at directions. Abby's car had a GPS system but she hated the damn things.

When she got to town, it was pretty simple to navigate through. She breathed a sigh of relief when she pulled up in front of the lawyer's office.

She went inside and everything was taken care of within forty-five minutes, papers signed. She was officially Willow's guardian, no going back.

She was half tempted to take Willow with her and go and visit her parents. Her mother had been excited when she'd found out. She figured that this was going to be the closest she got to a grandchild. Her parents had never liked Abby much though, and she didn't want any of that to come through to Willow.

So it was her and Willow against the world, since the child's grandmother was going to be of little help. Abby's grandmother would have been a wonderful help, probably would have been given custody of Willow instead, but unfortunately she'd died a few months before Trent had.

She pulled into Nancy's house a little after 10 a.m. A slightly overweight but beautiful woman who she vaguely remembered meeting, was out in front with Willow and another adorable little girl with long dark hair in braids.

She got out of the car and was immediately enveloped in a hug. She returned Nancy's embrace halfheartedly.

"Sorry I'm late," Mackenzie said.

"It's okay hon. The girls wanted to play outside after breakfast."

Willow was gazing at her shyly. "Hi Aunt Mackenzie."

"Hi honey. How are you?"

"I'm okay."

The little girl looked like she needed a hug herself. She looked lost, and kept looking back and forth between her friend and her mother. Mackenzie wasn't sure whether she'd rather stay with her friend or whether she was envious because her friend still had her mother and she'd be going home with a woman she'd met only a handful of times.

"You ready to go Willow?"

Willow nodded. Then something dawned on her. She hadn't bothered to check Abby's car for a car seat. Was Willow still young enough that she needed a car seat?

"Um Nancy. I'm sorry to sound like such a dope, but she doesn't still need like a booster seat or something does she?"

Nancy laughed. "Six is still the cutoff here for now so she's fine. Why didn't you bring Abby's car?"

"It felt weird. Everything feels weird."

Nancy squeezed her hand. "I know. She was such a good woman, a wonderful mother."

She leaned down and gave Willow a hug. "If you need anything, never hesitate to call. If not, then we'll see you tomorrow at the funeral."

"Thank you so much."

She opened the back door of the car for Willow, trying to remember if all of the seatbelts worked. But Willow had herself strapped in right away.

She waved to Nancy and then backed slowly out of the driveway.

"We have to run back into town. Buy something to wear to the funeral."

"Okay."

She didn't know how to talk to a kid she thought. She was glad she'd turned the radio down before she'd gotten to Nancy's house, but it was the only noise in the car as they headed back towards town.

She'd seen a clothing store just up from the lawyer's office so that was where they stopped. She opened the door for Willow, who hopped down, looking at the ground.

"Are you okay honey? Do you need anything? Want anything?"

"I'm fine Aunt Mackenzie."

Abby's eyes looked out at her from her daughter's face.

"You can call me Mac. Or your mom used to call me Kenzie. I know Mackenzie's a mouthful."

Willow nodded. "Okay."

She walked to the doors of the store, Willow at her side. They went inside and she said "You need something to wear too, I think. I wasn't trying to go through your stuff, but I didn't see anything black in your closet."

"Mommy liked pretty colors. Not black."

"I know honey."

She wanted to take Willow's hand, make some kind of contact. They were right next to each other but felt so far away, but the little girl shoved her hands into her pockets.

They wandered until they found the children's section. There were racks and racks of brightly colored summer dresses, but very little selection when it came to dark colors. The whole town seemed to agree with Abby about the dark colors thing she thought. Finally she found a couple that were black and were six 6, which she assumed was Willow's size.

"Which one do you like?"

Willow shrugged.

"Honey, I don't know what you like. I don't want to buy something you don't want to wear."

"I don't like black."

Mackenzie fought the sigh that wanted to come. "I know. But. . ."

She didn't think she knew the whole story of wearing black to a funeral, other than something to do with mourning.

How was she supposed to explain it to a kid?

Then Willow sighed. "You have to wear it when someone dies. I don't even like dresses."

She looked like she wanted to cry then.

"I won't make you wear another dress after tomorrow if you don't like them Willow. I promise. I don't like them either."

She was trying to coax a smile out of the girl, but it failed. Willow looked like she wanted to cry even more now.

"Mommy liked them."

"There are a lot of things my mom likes that I don't. And that's okay. Your mommy would probably laugh if she saw me in a dress."

Willow did crack a smile then. She ran her hand over the dress that had flowers on it. "This one is okay I guess."

Mackenzie pulled the dress off of the rack, and then reached hesitantly for Willow's hand.

"You can help me pick out something that won't make me look totally silly okay?"

Willow took her hand. "Okay."

There were a lot more choices of black dresses in the women's section. Mackenzie couldn't figure out why it was okay for a woman to wear black more than it was for a child, but she'd never cared much for clothes anyway.

Another thought hit her then. Was she going to have to buy new clothes too?

She didn't know if she could get a decent job, let alone one that would require even business casual dress. How was she going to raise a kid on her usual salary? A sigh did escape her lips then.

Willow said "What's wrong?"

"Nothing sweetie. What do you think of this one?"

It was a plain black dress with short sleeves. Willow shook her head.

"Yeah, me neither."

There was a dress with flowers that looked similar to the one that Willow had picked out.

"What about this one? Then you can be like my mini me."

Willow giggled. "Okay."

Mackenzie pulled it off of the rack, not liking the price on the tag, especially for something she didn't see herself wearing more than once, but your best friend only died once right? She chided herself for the thought, wondering if she should buy pantyhose. She hated those even more than she did dresses. The dress should fall to about mid-thigh though, so she thought she should be fine without them.

"You have tights right?"

Willow made a face that said she liked tights about as much as Mackenzie liked panty hose. "Dresses are okay sometimes I guess. But you can't play very well in them. And I always rip my tights and Mom gets mad. I have a lot of packages in my drawer because I usually only get to wear them once before I tear them and have to throw them away."

Mackenzie nodded, not knowing quite how to respond. They took their dresses to the counter.

The woman at the counter said "Hi." to Willow and gave her a sympathetic smile. Willow looked away. Mackenzie figured the child was already tired of the attention she was getting from everyone.

She felt plenty sorry for the kid herself. She almost lit a cigarette when they were back in the car, but stopped herself. She shoved the unlit cigarette back in her purse and met Willow's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Willow shrugged. "Mom did it at night sometimes after Dad died. She didn't think I could see her out my bedroom window."

"It's a bad habit. Your mom would kick my butt if she knew I did it around you."

As they pulled out of the parking lot she said "Are you hungry Willow?"

She hadn't eaten anything that day and she was starving. There was a fast food joint across the street.

"Mom doesn't let me eat that stuff."

She'd forgotten that her best friend was a health food nut.

"One time won't hurt, right?"

Willow shrugged again as she pulled up to the drive-through. She ordered herself a cheeseburger and fries and a milkshake and then turned to Willow. "What do you want hon? You can have anything you want."

It was a good thing Kyle had paid to get her car fixed. The lawyer said the check was going to take another week or so to come through if not longer. With the dresses and the gas and everything she was going to be lucky if she wasn't broke by then. And her cell phone bill was due. Damn she thought. It sucked to be broke.

"Can I have a cheeseburger and an ice cream cone?"

"Sure."

She ordered a cheeseburger kid's meal and a small ice cream.

When the guy asked what kind of drink she wanted, she turned to Willow. "What do you want to drink?"

"Milk I guess. No. Can I have a soda?"

"Sure. What kind?"

Oh she thought Abby would probably kill her. How was she going to eat the stuff that Abby had raised Willow on? Not that it was bad for the girl obviously, but Mackenzie barely ate vegetables, let alone the organic stuff that Abby cooked.

"Orange, please."

The guy at the drive-through told her the total. She pulled forward and paid.

As she took the bag of food from the bored looking girl at the window, putting the drinks in her cup holder and handing Willow her ice cream, Willow said "Are we eating in the car? Mommy would never have let me eat in the car."

"Your mom's car is a lot nicer than mine. If you make a mess I'll clean it up when we get home. Or hey, there's a park over there. Do you want to stop and eat there?"

"Okay."

She pulled up to the park and took the ice cream cone from Willow while she unbuckled herself from the seat belt.

"I'll bet that drove your mom crazy huh?"

"The seatbelt? She taught me how to do it, in case of an accident."

"Oh," Mackenzie said, feeling foolish. She sure did have a lot to learn about kids she thought.

They took the food to a picnic table. She watched the way Willow delicately licked the cone.

When she was that age, it would have been half gone already. Willow was such a little lady.

She looked a lot like Abby, not just having her mother's eyes, but her delicate frame as well. She was tiny.

They were silent as they ate their lunch. Willow was watching the other kids play on the playground, looking wistful.

"Do you want to play for a while?"

Willow nodded.

"Go ahead."

The picnic table was only a few feet away from the playground equipment so she felt okay staying there to keep an eye on Willow. She wondered if it would be okay to light a cigarette.

There was a father watching two toddlers play in the sandbox who was smoking a cigarette so she figured it was okay if she lit up too. She hadn't had a cigarette for a couple hours and was normally a chain smoker when she wasn't at work, so it was a relief when the nicotine started coursing through her veins. Yeah, she needed to quit she thought.

Less than fifteen minutes later Willow rushed up. "Can we go home now please?"

"Is everything okay?"

There was a little boy who was pointing at Willow and laughing. Willow didn't answer. Should she push it or should she let the girl be she wondered?

"Willow?"

She still didn't answer.

So she picked up the trash from their lunch and followed Willow to the car. Once Willow was strapped into the seatbelt she said "You know you can talk to me about anything right? I don't know a lot about being a mother or even an aunt, but I'm gonna do my best not to let your mom down, okay?"

"Okay."

But she didn't say anything more, so Mackenzie started the car and pulled away from the park thinking that kids were cruel these days if they were picking on a little girl who'd just lost her mother.

Once they were back at the house, Mackenzie didn't know what to do. Kids entertained themselves didn't they? Hell if she knew.

"Do you want to play a game or something Willow?"

Willow shook her head. "Can I go to my room please?"

Mackenzie nodded, feeling lost. She had a lot to do going through stuff, but she didn't want to leave Willow alone if she needed her.

She sighed again and carried her laptop to the living room once Willow had disappeared up the stairs. The thing was pretty damn old and had been at the pawn shop a shitload of times, but it still worked. She knew Abby had internet access. She picked up a network right away but it was password protected.

She tried everything she could think of, but nothing worked. Would Willow know the password she wondered?

Probably not.

She needed to figure out what she was going to do with all of Abby and Trent's things.

Willow would probably want some of her mother's jewelry and things for when she got older. All of Abby's clothes could go to a local thrift store. There was no need for her to keep most of Trent's tools or his exercise equipment from the basement. She felt like a ghoul cataloguing their things, but she had to do something to keep her mind off of everything.

Maybe they really should get a dog. They had a big backyard. She'd always had a dog when she was growing up. She'd see what Willow thought. She walked up the stairs and paused when she heard crying coming from Willow's bedroom. She knocked softly on Willow's door.

"Yes?" The small voice said.

"Can I come in?"

"Go ahead."

Willow was sitting up on the bed when she came in, wiping her eyes.

"You okay?"

Willow shook her head. "I miss my mom."

"I know honey. I miss her too."

"She showed me pictures from when she was my age. You were in a lot of them. She said you were like her sister but better, because she got to choose you."

Mackenzie laughed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "She was the best friend I ever had. She was so happy when she found out she was having you. She wanted a big family."

"How come you don't have kids?"

She shrugged. "I don't know hon. I guess I never thought I was ready."

"What was my Mom like when she was my age?"

That was easy Mackenzie thought, this she could handle. She spent the next hour telling Willow stories from when she and Abby were young. Willow laughed and asked a lot of questions. When Mackenzie got up to use the bathroom and came back, Willow was sleeping. She shut the door quietly and then went back downstairs.

She dug around in Abby's desk in the corner of the living room and managed to find the password for the internet. She logged on and found a local thrift store with pickup that took donations.

So that took care of Abby's clothes she thought. She could sell all of Trent's tools and workout equipment and his truck and Abby's car online. She could take pictures of all the tools because she had no idea what most of them were. Maybe Willow would want Abby's car though.

It would definitely be nicer than most first cars kids had. She could probably sell the truck and her car and still get enough to cover most of a newer car.

She felt guilty again for thinking about selling everything, but she had no use for the truck and she had to take care of Willow didn't she? With the money that was left from the insurance policy, she had more than she'd made in her best year. But Willow would need clothes for school and they just plain had to get by until she found work.

She'd looked online at some of the openings. They looked pretty dismal. Why hadn't she gone to college, she thought for the thousandth time? She'd gotten pretty good grades in school. But she'd been so eager to get away from her parents and the tiny town that she'd hated, that instead of going to school she'd taken off with a couple of casual friends and had ended up going straight to work at one crappy job after another.

What was she going to do if she couldn't find work? She supposed she could be a waitress. But she'd always hated it and didn't much like talking to people face to face. She'd done phone work for the past couple of years. While that could pay okay sometimes, sometimes it just sucked.

She figured she should concentrate on getting through Abby's funeral first and decided to go outside for a cigarette.

There was no noise from upstairs so she figured Willow was still asleep. When she was about halfway through her cigarette, Willow suddenly appeared beside her. She almost jumped.

"Sorry Aunt Mackenzie."

"It's okay. I guess I'm going to have to get used to it huh?"

"Did you always live by yourself? I mean since you grew up?"

"I lived with friends when I first left my parents' house and then a boyfriend for a while."

"Oh. How come you never got married?"

"He wasn't worth marrying unfortunately. He wasn't a very nice guy."

"Oh."

"What do you want for dinner, hon?"

"I don't know."

"Let's go see what we can find okay?"

She held out her hand to Willow. They went in the house.

In the kitchen, Mackenzie searched the cupboards, which were full of a lot of rice, granola, some noodles. The fridge held a wide assortment of fresh fruits and vegetables. But she couldn't find sauce or at least anything she was familiar with putting on noodles. She figured she was going to have to figure this out or Willow would grow up eating the crap she'd eaten growing up. Abby would be super pissed.

"Well Willow, I know that your mom would probably be mad as heck if she knew that I let you eat unhealthy food twice in one day, but why don't we order a pizza?"

"Okay. Mom let me eat pizza sometimes, but it was kind of gross."

"At least I won't feel too bad then."

Willow smiled. "Dad let me eat stuff that wasn't good for me when Mom wasn't around."

"We'll be good after tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

Mackenzie connected to the internet again and searched the local pizza places. There was a pretty good deal so she placed an order and got the confirmation that their food would arrive in about 45 minutes.

"You want to go back outside? It's a pretty nice night. Getting close to summer."

"Yeah."

They went back outside. Willow played in the yard while she sat on the steps. The pizza man arrived. He was good looking, but he looked young. She thought of Kyle for the first time all day, and she realized she missed him. How pathetic was she Mackenzie thought?

They ate dinner and then watched a movie on the DVD player. It was getting late so she figured it was bedtime for Willow.

"Do you need any help getting ready for bed or with your bath or anything?"

"If you run the water I can do the rest. Mom usually reads me a story."

"Okay."

She ran the water for Willow's bath and then waited in her room while she took her bath.

Willow brought a book over from the book shelf and then Mackenzie sat beside her on the bed.

They read the book together and then Willow reached up and gave her a hug.

"Goodnight Aunt Mackenzie."

"Goodnight honey. Sleep tight."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," Willow chimed in.

Mackenzie smiled. "You want the door open or closed?"

"Open a little bit please."

"No night light?"

"Nope."

She left the door open a crack and then went back downstairs. She had her last cigarette of the night and then went back to the couch. It took her a long time to fall asleep.

The house was very quiet. She kept thinking she caught snatches of Abby's perfume in the air. She fell asleep a little after 11 p.m.

She had a strange dream. She was married to Kyle. They were living in his house with Willow. Then his wife and son and Abby and Trent all came back from the dead as zombies that wanted to eat their brains.

She shook her head when she woke up, wondering what the hell had brought the dream to mind. She wasn't a big fan of zombie movies, hadn't watched one since she was a child actually. She was wondering if it was her guilt at sleeping with Kyle mixed with her guilt that she would mess up raising Abby's daughter that had brought the dream on.

It was a few minutes after 7 a.m. Willow wasn't up. The funeral wasn't until 10, so she could sleep at least a little while longer. She wished she could go back to sleep herself, but she knew it wasn't happening.

The couch wasn't particularly comfortable for one thing. Maybe she could sleep in Abby's room if she changed the sheets and flipped the mattress. She didn't know why it was bothering her so much, it just was. What had felt like friendship when they were kids felt like an invasion of privacy as adults even though her friend was gone.

She stayed outside long enough to smoke two cigarettes and then went back inside to start a pot of coffee. There was cereal in the cupboard and organic milk in the fridge that was still good so she didn't need to worry about Willow not having anything for breakfast, though on the day of her mother's funeral she'd let her have cold pizza if she wanted it.

She drank a cup of coffee and then went upstairs to shower, hoping she wouldn't wake Willow up.

She was still curious about what had gone on with the little boy in the park the day before but if Willow still didn't feel like telling her, then she didn't have to. When she got out of the shower, she paused for a minute. The house was silent, so she figured Willow was still asleep.

She got dressed, not liking her reflection in the mirror. She looked like shit. But who wanted to go to a funeral looking like a million bucks anyway she thought? She ran the brush through her hair again with a sigh.

"Aunt Mackenzie?"

She looked up to see Willow standing in the hallway.

"Yes honey?"

"Mom has a necklace, a locket. Do you think I could wear it?"

"Sure. Do you know where it is?"

"In her jewelry box." Willow pointed to a small, old fashioned looking jewelry box that was sitting on Abby's dresser.

Mackenzie picked it up and handed it to the little girl. "Here, you can take whatever you want. You can take the whole thing to your room if you want."

"Don't you want anything?"

"I don't wear a lot of jewelry. You can have whatever you want of your mom's. I'm mostly going to keep pictures. If there's any of her clothes or things that you want for when you get older we'll put them aside. Oh, and I meant to ask you about your mom's car. Do you want to save it too?"

"You don't want that either?"

Mackenzie shrugged. "I was thinking maybe we could trade your dad's truck and my car for a newer car. Your mom's car is too complicated for me."

"It does have all kinds of buttons and stuff. Can I think about it and decide later if I want it?"

"Of course. Do you want to go down and eat breakfast before you get dressed?"

"Okay."

They both went into the hallway, Willow heading to her room to put away the jewelry box.

She was to the top of the stairs when Willow said "Aunt Mackenzie?"

"Yes Willow?"

"You look very pretty."

"Thank you."

Willow met her at the top of the stairs. They walked down hand in hand.

"Do you want leftover pizza or cereal?"

"Cereal is okay."

"You want juice?"

"Um. Can I have a little coffee?"

Mackenzie raised an eyebrow. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it will stunt your growth?"

Willow giggled. "No."

"Just a little. We have to start being good or your mom's going to haunt us."

She took the cereal out of the cupboard and poured a bowl of the one Willow chose, then poured her a small glass of coffee with a lot of milk and sugar. Mackenzie was munching on cold pizza and Willow had started on her cereal when the little girl stopped eating and said "Aunt Mackenzie?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think my mom and dad will watch over me?"

Oh yes, another thing she'd forgotten. Abby had gone to church. She never stepped foot in a church herself unless it was for a wedding or a funeral. Oh, how to answer she thought. She wasn't sure if she believed in ghosts, didn't put a lot of stock in the idea of heaven, but if it was a comfort for a six-year-old child-what the heck?

"I'm sure they will sweetheart. Which is another reason we'd better start being good. Oh, another thing I forgot to ask you last night," she added, trying to change the subject. "What do you think about getting a dog?"

"Really? Oh, awesome."

"We can pick one out tomorrow or the next day. There's a shelter around here right?"

"I think so. Yeah, Tansie's mom got their dog there."

Tansie was Nancy's daughter.

"Can Tansie spend the night?"

"Maybe next weekend. We're going to be busy today."

"Yeah." Willow pushed her cereal away.

"Are you sure you're finished? You didn't eat much. You want pizza instead?"

"No, it's okay. I'm not hungry anymore. Can you fix my hair after I get dressed?"

"Sure."

"Can I go to my room?"

"Yes honey."

When Willow was in her room, she went outside for another cigarette. She couldn't smoke with Willow in the car, and there was no way she was going outside during the funeral to smoke. When she'd finished her cigarette she went back inside.

Soft crying was coming from Willow's room. She went up the stairs slowly, not wanting to startle her, and knocked on the partly open door.

Willow sniffled and said "Come in."

"What's wrong honey?"

Other than the obvious of course she thought.

"Mommy wouldn't like my dress."

"Oh honey." She took Willow into her arms. "You know what? You can wear any dress you want. I don't care what anyone thinks. If they say anything I'll punch them in the nose for you, okay?"

Willow gave her a half-hearted smile. "Okay."

She pulled a pale purple dress from the closet. "This one was Mommy's favorite."

"Then that's the one that you'll wear."

"Can you braid my hair?"

"I can try. I'm not the best at it. Your mom always did my hair too."

"She said she put makeup on you too."

Mackenzie made a face. "Yeah, she did. Your mom was way too pretty to need makeup."

"That's what Daddy used to say too."

Mackenzie smiled. "Your dad was a smart guy."

Willow nodded solemnly. She pulled off her pajamas, throwing them into the hamper beside her bed, and then pulled the dress over her head.

"Can you help me with my tights please?"

"Why don't we wait to put those on until right before we leave?"

Willow looked grateful. "Okay."

She handed Mackenzie a hairbrush with a cartoon character on it and sat in front of her on the bed.

"You tell me if I pull your hair okay?"

"Okay."

Brushing Willow's hair brought back memories of her own mother. "You're lucky. You don't get a lot of tangles. I always get tangles."

"It's because I have Mommy's hair and not Daddy's."

Abby had had very fine, very manageable hair.

"Do you want one braid or two?"

"Two please."

Well, Mackenzie thought at least that should be easier. It shouldn't come apart so quickly that way. Willow got up and returned with two hair bands. Though the braids weren't perfect when they were finished, they both thought they looked okay.

"Thank you Aunt Mackenzie."

"You're welcome hon."

She glanced at the clock on the girl's desk. It was a little after nine and she wasn't sure how to get to the church.

"We'd better get ready to go. Where's your tights?"

Willow pulled open her bottom dresser drawer, which was indeed stacked full of unopened packages of tights. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. They managed together to get the tights on without snagging them. Willow slipped her feet into a pair of black patent leather Mary Jane's. She pulled a locket out of Abby's jewelry box and slipped it over her head.

"I'm ready."

"Okay."

She didn't know if she was ready. Ugh she thought. She wanted another cigarette but they had no time. So instead she slipped on her sandals and followed Willow down the stairs. They locked the house and then got into the car. It was running smoothly. Mackenzie was glad.

Willow strapped herself in. She glanced one last time at the piece of paper that listed the address of the church. She wasn't sure, but she didn't think it was too far from the lawyer's office.

They pulled out of the driveway and were lucky enough to meet Nancy and her family on the road, so she followed them to the church.

When they got there, Willow got out of the car and immediately went over to Tansie. It was 9:30. There were quite a few people milling around outside the church. The only person Mackenzie knew was Abby's mother who came over and cast a disapproving glance at Willow.

"You couldn't find her anything black to wear to her mother's funeral?"

Mackenzie bit back a nasty reply. "We bought her a black dress, but she didn't think Abby would like it. So I let her wear the one she wanted."

"Oh," Abby's mother said.

"How have you been Skye?"

"Oh, just wonderful. You?"

Mackenzie fought the intense urge to punch her best friend's mother in the face. "Peachy."

"I assume you're still not married then?"

Abby's mother had only been married for the last eight years and the identity of Abby's biological father had been in question for some time.

"Nope."

"I assume you won't mind if Willow sits with us during the service?"

Mackenzie wanted to remind her that assuming made an ass out of you and me, but figured it was better to keep it to herself.

"Sure."

Which would leave her to sit by herself. Maybe she could sit with Nancy she thought.

"I don't know why Abby felt the need to give custody of my granddaughter to someone who knows nothing about children. It's a simple process to sign over custody."

Mackenzie gave her a tight smile. "We'll be fine."

No way in hell was she going to put Willow through what Abby had went through growing up. Skye may have gotten older, but it didn't mean she had gotten much better.

"Whatever." Skye let out a dramatic sigh and went over to Willow, pulling her away from Tansie.

Willow gave her a helpless look as her grandmother pulled her away. She gave her a weak smile and was grateful when Nancy said quietly "I never liked that woman. She never came to any of Willow's birthdays parties, barely sent a card. It's not as if she lives across the country."

Mackenzie nodded, biting her lip. She was about to ask Nancy if she could sit with her and her family when the woman took her arm and said "Why don't you sit with us hon? I know you haven't had a chance to get to know anyone."

"Thank you."

She followed Nancy into the church, looking around. Churches made her uncomfortable, always had. She'd been to two funerals, Trent's and one she'd been forced into. A boyfriend of hers had dragged her to his uncle's funeral. She'd been uncomfortable the whole time and had broken up with him soon after. Her parents hadn't let her go to her grandmother's funeral when she was twelve and her asshole of a boss hadn't let her off to go to Abby's grandmother's. It still pissed her off to this day, seventeen years later that her parents hadn't let her see her grandmother laid to rest.

As the preacher started the service, she felt herself zoning out. She had never understood how even if you went to a church and knew the preacher, that they should be the one to describe your life. It seemed rather empty to her. She wanted her friends to get up and tell stories about her when she died. Not that she had many close friends left, especially with Abby gone.

She went through the motions and was glad when the service was over. There was a reception and then the burial at the cemetery. She stuck close to Nancy and avoided Abby's mother who was still monopolizing Willow. Willow looked like she wanted to escape as much as Mackenzie did.

When she went to get Willow so she could take her to the cemetery, Skye said "She can ride with us. Your car doesn't look very safe. Why didn't you drive Abby's?"

"Aunt Mackenzie's car is fine Grandma."

"It doesn't look fine. And she's not your aunt."

Mackenzie was steaming, but she bit her tongue again. "She can ride with you."

"We'd like to take her for the night. We'll bring her back tomorrow afternoon."

Willow shook her head. "No. I don't want to. We're going to get a puppy tomorrow."

Skye raised an eyebrow. "A puppy. You move into my daughter's house and the first thing you're going to do is ruin the carpets?"

"I want a dog," Willow protested. "Mom was going to let me have one when it was summer."

"I doubt that," Skye said.

"You don't know. You're never there. Even Mom said so. Daddy used to call you a bad word. I don't like you."

Mackenzie wanted to cheer.

"Maybe Grandma can bring you home in the morning and we can still get a puppy okay honey?"

Willow shook her head again. "I don't want to stay with her. She's mean."

Oh she thought, Willow was going to hate her. "One night honey. And then you can have whatever dog you want okay? Maybe we'll get a kitten too."

Willow's eyes brightened.

Skye snorted. "Bribery, huh?"

Mackenzie wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up, but said mildly "I think we could both use something to take our minds off of everything."

"Right," Skye said. "And I don't? I'm the one that lost my only child and am being deprived of my grandchild because my daughter was too hard-headed to be reasonable."

"I never said you couldn't see her Skye."

"She is my granddaughter. I should have custody."

"I didn't make the choice Skye," Mackenzie said with a sigh. "Abby did. She was Willow's mother. It's what SHE wanted."

"You know nothing about raising a child."

And you do, Mackenzie thought? Her parents had done a much better job than Skye had and they still didn't know shit about raising kids. It wasn't just the fact that her brother had gone to college and then moved right back home. It was a huge combination of things.

"I'm not claiming that I do Skye. Can we discuss this some other time please? This day is hard enough for everyone as it is. The last thing Abby would want would be us arguing in front of Willow."

"Fine. But we will discuss this. You mark my words."

If they were lucky Mackenzie thought, Skye was putting on her usual look at me show and she'd give it up when it no longer suited her. She had everyone's attention, but it wasn't in a good way.

Nancy was frowning, and so were two women that had been Abby's coworkers. She leaned down to hug Willow. "I'll see you at the cemetery honey. Be good for your grandma okay?"

Willow nodded solemnly. "Drive safely Aunt Mackenzie. Don't forget your seatbelt."

"I won't."

She squeezed Willow's hand and then walked away.

When she was in the car, she sat there for a minute, trying to bring her temper into check.

When Skye drove by with her husband whose name Mackenzie could never remember, Willow waved from the backseat. She waved back, but didn't return Skye's artificial smile. She lit a cigarette and then took her place in the line of cars going to the cemetery.

She parked and then couldn't bring herself to get out of the car. Abby was going to be placed in the ground she thought. Her oldest friend, her best friend who had always been so full of life was dead, gone. She would never hear her friend's voice on the phone again. She would never get another email with pictures of Willow. She had been such a proud mother, had wanted to be the mother to Willow that Skye had never been to her.

"Oh Abby. Why couldn't it have been me instead?"

She couldn't do this, she suddenly wanted to run away so bad she could taste it. And then what would everyone say she thought? I told you so? I knew she couldn't handle it? It wasn't anything she hadn't heard before, but it was a lot more important this time. And if Willow could do this, so could she.

She took one last drag of her cigarette and then put it out in her ashtray which she thought absentmindedly really needed to be dumped. She took a deep breath and letting it out, got out of the car. Nancy motioned her over and put an arm around her shoulders. She wanted to cry. But she couldn't do it in front of all these people.

Willow was standing between Skye and her husband who she suddenly remembered was named Robert but didn't like to be called Bob. She looked uncomfortable. Mackenzie wanted to go pull her away from them. She'd only met Willow a few times before this, and though they still had a long way to go, she didn't think the almost pained look would be on the little girl's face if she was standing with their little group which consisted of Nancy, her husband Chuck, Tansie and her older brother James. She closed her eyes through most of the short graveside service. When it was over Nancy said quietly "I know honey. I know."

Willow was crying, loud racking sobs, and it broke her heart. "Would you like to come over for dinner tonight hon?"

Mackenzie shook her head. "Thank you, but I'd rather not tonight. I do appreciate the offer though."

She was going to get drunk, play loud music and think about the good times since she'd be all alone in the house.

"You're welcome anytime."

"Thank you. Maybe next week sometime? I know how much Willow likes spending time with Tansie."

"Of course. We're going to barbecue on Friday, the first of the season. Chuck knows his way around a grill."

She winked at her husband.

"That sounds nice. Willow wanted to know if Tansie could spend the night next weekend."

"Do you think you're ready to handle two of them at once? They can get pretty silly."

"I remember how crazy Abby and I used to drive my mom. It'll be fine. Oh Nancy, do you know anything about Dr. Bodreau?"

Nancy nodded. "Abby took Willow to see her a few times after Trent died. They didn't make a lot of progress then. But since she's older now, she might be more receptive. She's very good with children."

"Okay. Thank you. Well, I guess I'll see you later. Thank you for coming and again for taking care of Willow. I know Abby would have appreciated it."

"You're welcome hon. If you ever want to talk, call me anytime."

Chuck rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath about always being on the phone. Nancy gave him a dirty look.

"Thank you. I suppose I'd better go say goodbye to Willow."

Nancy shook her head. "That woman. I can see why Abby wanted you to raise Willow."

Mackenzie gave her a weak smile, and then made her way over to Willow. "Hi, sweetie," she said softly.

Willow had stopped crying, but she still looked upset. "I ripped my tights," she said, looking like she was going to start crying again. "Mommy would be mad."

"Oh honey. You could tear every pair of tights in your drawer, in the whole world; into a thousand pieces and your mommy would still love you. It's gonna be okay sweetheart, I promise. We're always gonna miss your mom, but we have little pieces of her that we carry with us everywhere we go. Every night before we go to bed, we'll both pick a story about your mom to tell okay?"

Willow nodded. "But you'll have more stories than me. You knew her longer."

"That's okay. She loved you more than me."

She was trying to get Willow to smile.

"She always told me you were her favorite daughter."

Willow finally cracked a smile then. "I'm her only daughter."

"Then it's okay for you to be her favorite right?"

Willow giggled.

Then Skye broke in and said "We'd better get going."

Mackenzie nodded. "Have fun Willow."

Willow started to make a face and then stopped. "Promise you won't pick out the puppy without me?"

Mackenzie held out her pinky. "Pinky swear."

Willow solemnly held up her pinky. They sealed the deal. "See you tomorrow Aunt Mackenzie."

"See ya later Willow gator."

Willow giggled again. "Daddy used to call me that."

Willow waved as they walked away and she waved back.

She didn't cry until she had left the cemetery, gone to the liquor store and was home, sitting on the couch with her first drink. Then she let it all out. But the music was blasting so loud you probably couldn't have heard her from the next room.

She cried for Willow, who was too young to have lost both her parents. She cried for herself, because she felt lost without her best friend to remind her that she was better than she chose to act most days. She cried for Kyle, who was stubbornly holding his head high in a town that mourned his wife not for the woman that she'd become but the teenager that she had been, and for the loss of a little boy that she'd never met.

She cried for the baby that she'd lost too. It was the first time that she'd let herself cry over the miscarriage that was just one more senseless act of violence at the hand of a man she'd once been stupid enough to think that she'd loved.

Their child would be almost three years old now. Yeah she thought, she'd finally walked out on Bentley just over three years ago. It had taken three months after the miscarriage for her stupid ass to do that.

She could have a son or a daughter now. She thought Bentley would have made a shitty father but he had taken their child's life before it had had a chance to live.

She made herself another drink and went back to the couch. She wanted to call Kyle, wanted to tell him how brave she thought he was, but that he needed to stop holding himself back. He had a lot to give, and could make another woman very happy. She didn't let herself think that she could be lucky enough that it would ever be her, but she wanted to tell him all the same. But she didn't call him.

She turned down the music and ordered Chinese food. When it came she'd finished another drink and felt the loneliest she'd felt since she'd left home. She was tempted to go out to the bar, and sleep with a stranger. What difference would one more night make when she'd already had so many? But she figured she'd probably crash her car on the way home. Then Willow really would be stuck being raised by Skye.

She went outside and looked at the stars she hadn't been able to see in the city and smoked too many cigarettes. She was passed out on the couch by eight o'clock.

She woke up the next morning with a hell of a hangover, realizing that she hadn't bothered to get Skye's cell number when she had taken Willow.

She was such an idiot she thought. What if they didn't bring her back? Shit, she hadn't even bothered to ask what time they planned on bringing her back. She was such an ass when it came to taking care of a kid. Shaking her head, which made it hurt even more, she got up, glanced at the clock and saw it was only a little after 7. She was damned lucky it was Monday and the kids had a holiday from school. She hadn't bothered to think of that either when she'd told Skye she could take Willow. She needed to get her head on straight or they were both in big trouble.

She went outside for a cigarette, then came back in and started the coffeepot, and headed up to take a shower.

After she had showered and dressed she felt better but figured she needed to do a load of laundry. She was running low on clean clothes and there were clothes of Abby's still in the hamper. She figured Willow must have some as well.

She felt a little melancholy as she put Abby's clothes in the wash, knowing that she'd never wear them again.

Once she'd eaten a slice of cold pizza and downed two cups of coffee, she figured she might as well start going through the basement. She left the door open in case someone knocked and then got started.

There were tons of old baby clothes and toys, decorations for various holidays, and a huge assortment of exercise equipment.

She thought she'd keep the basic stuff, because she needed to get her butt in shape. But the exercise bike, the stair stepper and the brightly colored set of hand weights that must have been Abby's would work for that. The bigger weight sets could all go as well as the fishing equipment. She'd always hated fishing. Satisfied with the basement, she went out to the garage.

Again the basic stuff she could keep, but all of that fit into one tiny toolbox. All the power tools and drill sets and things could go. She hoped there weren't any major problems with the house. She wouldn't be good at fixing anything major. She needed a man who knew his way around the house, which led her thoughts back to Kyle.

He was definitely a man she wouldn't mind having around the house, in and out of bed.

The truck was going, but the camping gear could stay. At the very least they could use it in the backyard. That took care of the garage.

The furniture in the house was fine, though she wanted to give Willow the choice of redecorating her room somewhere down the line if she wanted. So then she was mostly left with Abby's clothes, which she wanted to go through with Willow. She stepped into the backyard and lit a cigarette. The fence was in good shape so that would be fine for a dog.

They probably needed to get a doghouse sometime soon and hadn't she promised Willow a cat as well? That was really going to eat into her money.

Oops was her thought. She had one credit card, but hated to use it unless she absolutely had to. And she'd probably have to since she'd opened her big mouth and told Willow they'd look for a pet now instead of after the check came in. She really wasn't thinking at all these days, was she?

She could start going through Abby's drawers at least. Willow probably wouldn't want to keep any of her mother's underwear and socks.

She went upstairs to Abby's room, and starting opening drawers. Her work clothes were in the closet as well as her jeans. All that was in the drawers were socks, underwear, panty hose, bras and a few t-shirts.

She set aside the t-shirts for Willow to go through and then put the rest in an empty box she'd found at the bottom of the closet.

Her friend had had a lot of clothes and shoes. There were at least ten shoe boxes stacked in the bottom of the closet. Then there were the coats downstairs. By the time she'd taken half of the clothes out of the closet for Willow to go through, she was crying.

She opened Abby's nightstand to see if there were tissues. She found the tissues, but there was a big pink vibrator shoved to the back of the drawer. She started laughing then and couldn't stop. It would be pink wouldn't it she thought.

She needed some fresh air. She glanced at the clock in the living room and saw that it was a little after 10 a.m. Was she going to have to go through Abby's papers again to find Skye's cell phone number she wondered?

But by the time she'd finished her cigarette Skye had pulled up. She was alone with Willow.

Willow bounded out of the backseat. Mackenzie didn't know if she was more excited to get away from her grandmother or about their trip to the animal shelter.

Skye looked at her coolly. "Are you keeping the house phone?"

"I guess. Why?"

Skye looked at her like she was stupid. "So I can get a hold of my granddaughter of course."

"Yeah, sure."

"Goodbye Willow. Grandma loves you."

"Bye Grandma."

Then she got into her car and drove away. Selfish as it was, Mackenzie hoped they wouldn't hear from her anytime soon.

"Can we go now Aunt Mackenzie?"

"Yeah, just let me lock the house."

She'd looked up the directions to a pet store and the shelter before she'd went upstairs. Willow was already strapped into the backseat of the car when she returned, meaning that she'd forgotten to lock the car again. If she had done that in her old neighborhood even once, she would have come out to find her crappy stereo gone and anything else that was lying around in the car as well.

"Can I really have a cat too, Aunt Mackenzie?"

"Sure."

"Are we going now?"

"We have to stop at the pet store first, pick up some stuff. We don't want a puppy and a kitten stuck in the car while we're in the store do we?"

"I guess not. Can I name them?"

"Of course."

What fun was it for a kid to have a pet if you didn't let them name it?

As she turned on the road to head into town Willow said "My grandma doesn't like you."

"Not everyone has to like everyone else."

"She said mean stuff about you."

Resisting the petty urge to grill Willow for what Skye had said, she said "She shouldn't have said bad things in front of you. Where's your dress?"

"Grandma said she was going to have it cleaned and send it back."

"Okay."

"She said that I'm going to go stay at her house during summer. I don't want to go. I want to stay home and play with our news pets and Tansie."

"I know honey. But she's your grandma. We'll work something out okay?"

"She said mean things about my mom when she thought I was sleeping. I don't like her."

Mackenzie wanted to say 'me neither' but instead said "That wasn't very nice of her was it?"

"No. Do you have a lot of boyfriends Aunt Mackenzie?"

Oh boy, Mackenzie thought, talk about the pot calling the kettle black. She and Abby had once tried to tally the number of boyfriends Skye had in one year. They'd lost count.

"No hon. I don't even have one."

"Okay. My daddy said I can't have a boyfriend until I'm 25."

Mackenzie laughed. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

"Mommy said I should wait until I'm 30. Are you 30 yet Aunt Mackenzie?"

"Next year I'll be 30."

They had reached the pet store. She hated to think of the payment she'd have to make on her credit card to cover this trip. But she'd promised and the last thing she wanted to do was start off disappointing Willow.

Willow took her hand as they walked towards the pet store. "I want a boy dog and a girl cat."

"Okay."

They filled a cart with two pet carriers, food, litter and a litter box, toys, puppy training pads, collars and two pet beds. The guy that checked them out was hot. She thought he was flirting with her, but like the pizza guy, he was too damned young for her.

She had conflicting emotions anyway. The night she'd spent with Kyle had been the best night she'd had with a man probably ever. She felt a little guilty even thinking about flirting.

It made her feel pathetic, but she couldn't help but laugh when Willow said matter-of-factly as they were pushing the cart out of the store "That guy looked at your butt. Mommy said it's not polite to do that."

"It's not honey."

They stowed all the supplies in the trunk and then were off to the shelter. The place was noisy as heck. Willow gripped her hand when they made their way to the counter.

She wanted to turn around and walk out when she saw the price to adopt a pet and try to convince Willow to go home and look in the newspaper instead, but she thought that with the cost of shots; it probably made as much sense to do it this way.

She hoped the check cleared sooner rather than later and then felt guilty again. When the girl behind the counter led them back to the animals, Willow's face lit up. She shared a smile with the girl and felt better than she had all day.

"There's so many," Willow said.

"Take all the time you want honey."

Watching Willow wander from cage to cage brought a strange feeling over her. She could almost imagine what it felt like to be a mother.

Willow decided on a fuzzy black lab puppy and a beautiful Siamese kitten. The ride home was fun, with the cat hissing at the dog.

"I don't think they like each other," Willow said.

"They just have to get used to each other."

Kinda like us, Mackenzie thought.

She ended up making rice and chicken for dinner and vowed to learn to cook.

It wasn't fun getting Willow up for school the next day. Mackenzie found that the little girl was as much of a morning person as her mother had been. So school was going to be a lot of fun.

When she went into town to do some grocery shopping, she came back and was glad she had left the dog and cat in their respective crates.

She had no luck that day finding a job, though she put in a lot of applications for jobs either that she didn't want or had little chance of getting.

She'd looked into trading in Trent's truck and had found a place that could get her into a hybrid with another couple thousand dollars, so she figured she'd do that when the money came through.

She'd put up his tools and exercise equipment online and had had some calls, so she didn't think it would be too hard to get rid of them.

Willow had decided that she wanted to keep her mother's car. They'd gone through most of Abby's clothes, most of which were going to the goodwill store.

She spent her first night in Abby's bed and had a nightmare about Abby's vibrator growing to be six feet tall and chasing her. She decided to go back to sleeping on the couch.

They had a good time at the barbecue at Nancy's. But when she went home alone because Willow was spending the night, she got drunk again and lonely. She called Kyle three times and hung up. It was a good thing her wasted brain remembered to block the caller ID. She figured he'd probably wonder why she was calling him and hanging up without ever saying anything.

When Tansie spent the night, she almost lost her mind. The girls ran wild and the pets did too.

The puppy which Willow had named Bruiser chased the kitten Sandra. It climbed up the curtains to get away and they ended up in a big pile on the floor. Once the girls were in bed she cleaned up the mess and fell asleep on the couch.

She woke up to a pile of dog crap on the floor which she narrowly missed stepping in and two little girls covered in Abby's makeup which she'd forgotten to get rid of from head to toe.

Then she got to clean up the bathroom from the mess the girls made with their bath.

The next week, she had no more luck finding a job and her car started making funny noises.

Her brother was bitching about her paying him back and the check still hadn't come in. But at least Skye didn't call.

The next week the check finally came, but her car broke down. She had to have it towed.

She bought a new car and let Willow redecorate her room. Once the room was finished Willow cried herself to sleep three nights in a row and slept with Mackenzie for the next three.

Still no job but still no Skye.

At the end of their first month together when Mackenzie thought they were doing okay, Willow refused to go to her weekly therapy session and threw a rock through the window of her mom's car.

The dryer broke and they had to buy a new one. The puppy was finally potty trained but started chewing on everything. The kitten got outside and was gone for two days.

Nancy tried to set her up with her brother-in-law. She called Kyle every night when Willow was in bed, but never had the guts to say anything. She tried to quit smoking. It only lasted a day because Willow got in trouble at school. Still no job. She was starting to get desperate.

When school got out Willow spent the weekend with Tansie. The puppy chewed her favorite pair of shoes. She got drunk the second night. When she threw up the next morning, she thought it was just the booze. But when she thought about it, she realized she'd missed her period.

She was in the midst of a panic attack when Nancy brought Willow home and almost blurted out the whole thing to the woman who was her only friend in the area. But she kept her mouth shut. When she puked the next morning Willow came into the bathroom, rubbing her eyes.

"Are you okay Aunt Mackenzie?"

The little girl still refused to call her Mac or Kenzie, though they'd kept up their promise of sharing a story of Abby every night before bed.

"I'm fine honey. We need to go into town after breakfast okay?"

Willow nodded. She needed to buy the second pregnancy test of her life. Even when she'd been drunk she hadn't been dumb enough to have unprotected sex. Nope she thought, she'd only done that with the biggest mistake of her life and a man she dreamed about at least once a week, the only man she'd ever made love with in the rain.

The quick trip into town turned into a much longer one when Willow decided it would be a good time to go shopping for school clothes when summer had barely begun. But she didn't deny her. There was a really good sale and she didn't want to know the result of the test anyway.

They ate lunch and then ended up going to the library. Then they went to the movies. It was nearing evening when they got home. Bruiser was barking like crazy from the backyard.

They decided to set up the tents in the yard and invited Tansie over. When the girls had giggled themselves to sleep, she went into the downstairs bathroom. She couldn't pee though she'd been drinking water like crazy.

When she was finally able to urinate she went outside and smoked two cigarettes. She still didn't want to know what she already knew.

She closed her eyes when she picked up the plastic stick and didn't open them for at least a minute.

When she opened them she thought it was negative at first but then realized she'd read it backwards.

She was pregnant with Kyle's child.

She went to the backyard and peeked at the girls. They were curled up inside the tent with Bruiser between them.

She took a picture with her phone not just because it was cute, but because it meant a few more seconds delay in calling Kyle.

She went out front to the steps and dialed with a hand that wouldn't stop shaking. "Hello," he said.

She almost hung up.

"Hello, is anyone there?"

She cleared her throat. "Sorry. It's Mackenzie."

"Hi. How are you? I wanted to call you to see how things are going but I didn't want to bother you."

Bother her she thought? She wanted to laugh. She'd made love to him so many times in her dreams; it was more of a bother when she didn't dream of him.

"I'm okay. How are you?"

"Fine. Still pissin' people off. How's your friend's little girl, is it Willow?"

"Yeah. She's good. Still cries herself to sleep some nights, but the doctor says she's doing well everything considered."

"Good. I was thinking about coming up your way maybe later in the summer for a couple days."

Her heart started to beat fast.

"That would be nice. Um Kyle, I have something to tell you."

"Is everything okay?"

"I guess. I mean yes. Geeze I don't know how to tell you this."

"Are you sure you're okay Mackenzie?"

She realized that she was. She was actually okay with being pregnant.

"I'm pregnant Kyle. It's yours. There hasn't been anyone else."

Silence. She wanted to cry.

"Kyle?"

"Wow."

"Yeah. Wow."

"What's your address? I'm on my way. I'll leave tonight. I mean, if you want me to."

IF she wanted him. Hell yeah she thought, she wanted him. She gave him the address then added "Of course I want you. I've never wanted anything more in my life."

Silence again. She'd gone too far she thought. Tears pricked her eyes.

"I've dialed your number twice a day for the past two weeks but couldn't bring myself to let it ring. You made me feel alive for the first time since I lost my family. I felt so guilty at first that I couldn't look at myself in the mirror. But I want you in my life Mackenzie. I can't deny it."

Oh, that felt so good to hear she thought.

"I called you a bunch of times and hung up." She laughed.

"I hoped it was you, but figured it was some asshole in town prank calling me."

She didn't want to get off the phone with him, but she wanted him to be there beside her even more.

"So are you coming?"

He laughed. "I'll be there in two hours."

"It's at least three hours away."

"I have a fast car remember?"

"Drive safely so you get here in one piece okay?"

"I will. I'll see you soon okay?"

"Okay."

She felt like she was floating she was so happy.

"Bye Mackenzie."

"Bye Kyle."

She shut her phone and went back to the front steps. She paced for a while, then tried to sleep, then gave up and went back outside with her mp3 player. She was wrapped in a light blanket, half dozing when he pulled up a little over three hours later.

He got out of the car. "Hi."

"Hi."

He looked even better than she remembered. She wanted to jump his bones right there and would have if not for the little girls sleeping in the back yard. He looked at her for a minute and then crossed to her and swept her off her feet.

She laughed. "Kyle, put me down."

He set her back on her feet and had started to kiss her when a little voice said "Aunt Mackenzie?"

She turned to Willow. "Yes, honey?"

Willow rubbed her eyes, yawned and said "Is that your boyfriend?"

She didn't know how to answer.

Kyle nudged her, and then spoke up himself. "I am. You must be Willow. I'm Kyle. It's very nice to meet you."

He stuck out his hand. Willow took it and shook it. "You, too. I'm goin' back to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Once Willow was back in the tent they went in the house and made love. Then they went back outside and went to sleep in the other tent.

When she woke up in his arms the next morning, she could hear the girls giggling outside.

They'd painted her car and Kyle's with the whipped cream from the fridge. Bruiser was licking it off.

She thought Kyle was going to be pissed, but he smiled and said "Good morning girls."

"Good morning Aunt Mackenzie's boyfriend," Willow said. They broke into another fit of giggles.

They had a nice mess to clean up, she didn't know what the future held for any of them, but she had a feeling that in the end, they were going to be all right.

The Choice

She woke up in bed sweating, the nightmare that had awoken her sticking in her head like the bad taste she used to get every morning before she had quit smoking.

She could hear her husband downstairs in the kitchen, probably starting the coffeepot before he sat down to read the paper. The dream had been the kind of dream that she used to have when she was pregnant with Josh and had insanely looked up every childhood disease and malady known to man on the internet and how to prevent them.

She sighed as she listened to Trevor humming to himself in the kitchen. He always played classic rock in the mornings when he was getting ready for work, quiet enough as not to disturb his wife and child, both of whom were nowhere close to what you would call a morning person.

He had breakfast on the table by the time he bothered to get Josh out of bed. He usually let her sleep late in the mornings. She'd wander downstairs thirty minutes or so before Trevor was headed out the door to work and Josh had started his impatient vigil at the front window to watch for the bus that picked him up and took him to school. But not today.

No way she was going back to sleep and as she rubbed the sleep from her bleary eyes and glanced at the clock, seeing that it 5:45, she groaned. She used the restroom and went back into the bedroom, laying on Trevor's side of the bed and staring at the ceiling.

But it wasn't her husband who concerned her this early Wednesday morning. Any other morning she'd sleep like the dead until Josh's alarm clock went off and then still put off getting up until she absolutely had to, but not this one.

What on Earth had brought this to her mind she wondered, wishing for a cigarette like she hadn't wished for one in what seemed like forever? She didn't want her son saying that she smelled as yucky as Grandma had the one time she'd felt guilty enough to take her child to visit the mother that she'd never in her life felt close to.

Had she read an article on the internet, had one of her friends mentioned something? Had someone Trevor knew at work had a child that had had a recent diagnosis? Burrowing her head into her husband's pillow, trying to rack her brain which was pretty much useless this early in the morning, she couldn't think of one single mention, nothing that stood out in her mind which would cause such a terrible nightmare.

Shaking her head, Kendra figured she might as well get up. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and wondered if she should get dressed now or do it when Josh was off to school and Trevor was off to work after she'd taken her shower and her head was mostly clear of the fuzziness of sleep like she did on any other morning.

The dream was still spreading its poison in her mind though. The only thing that could shake it would be to venture down the hall and make sure that her son was sleeping peacefully in his bed like usual.

Opening their bedroom door quietly so that she wouldn't alert her early riser husband to the fact that she was awake uncharacteristically early, she crept down the hall, and peeked her head around the crack in their son's door. Door open a crack, Josh was sprawled out in his bed like every other morning, breathing evenly.

She breathed a sigh of relief and paused for a moment, wondering if she'd be able to get away with going into the room and touching her son.

But if she accidentally woke their son up now, then there would be hell to pay and no one would be happy. For the first time since his birth, she cursed the fact that Josh had inherited her I'll start the day when I'm damn good and ready attitude instead of his father's up with the sun, never enough time in the day attitude.

A half smile crept to her face as she drank in the simple joy of watching her son sleep.

She stepped away from his door finally and stood at the top of the stairs for a minute, watching her husband sitting quietly at the kitchen table, wondering if she should share her dream with him. But no, telling her husband, the love of her life that had stepped into her life when she'd had no idea what that could even amount to, about the dream, would just make her fears all too real.

She had heard about families whose children had been diagnosed with leukemia but she couldn't remember hearing or seeing anything lately. There, it was out again, the nightmare brought to the front in her mind with clarity so sudden that she wanted to scream.

Her baby laying in a hospital bed, looking tiny, his arm hooked up to an IV, while a doctor told them that her son had cancer.

She'd never put a lot of stock in dreams as a glimpse of the future but now she wondered. It didn't sit well in her stomach as she silently watched her husband reading the morning paper at their kitchen table, like any other morning.

Kendra wondered what was going to keep her from digging out the ancient pack of cigarettes that was shoved in the back of her underwear drawer once Trevor and Josh were safely off to their respective day to day lives and she was alone with her thoughts and figured that it was pretty damned close to nothing.

Trevor's dark head came up as she started down the stairs and a look of concern came into his hazel eyes. "You okay babe?"

"Is the world going to end because I drag my lazy ass out of bed before 6:00?"

"No Kendra, of course not. I just don't expect to see you or Josh up before sunrise, well, like ever."

He stuffed his glasses into his shirt pocket and got up from the table, pulling her into his embrace.

Her head on his shoulder, Kendra breathed in his scent, drank in his strength.

"I love you Trev. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you or Josh."

"Babe. Is something wrong?"

She shook her head.

Trevor took her chin in his hand and tipped it to make her look at him. "Is Josh okay? Are you okay? You look like you're coming down with something."

"Josh is still sleeping and I'm fine. I had a bad dream and couldn't go back to sleep."

He wrapped her in his embrace once again and again she wondered at the strength in her husband's arms.

"You want to tell me about it?"

Kendra shook her head. Maybe sometime, but not now. Now she wanted to go upstairs and make love to her husband and forget for a few blessed minutes. "Come upstairs with me."

"Kendra. I have to get Josh up soon."

"In like an hour. We have plenty of time. I need you right now, Trev. I need you to make it all go away for a while okay?"

"Must have been a hell of a dream you had. Sex before breakfast and your cappuccino even."

"I have by far the best looking husband on the block and I think it's time that I take advantage of it."

He laughed. "That's only because we live in a neighborhood where we're the only people under sixty-five."

Once upstairs, he pressed her gently back onto the bed, and made love to her like he hadn't made love to her in months. She had to bite gently into his shoulder to keep from crying out.

"I love you Kendra."

"Love you too," she murmured, and fell asleep.

She awoke forty-five minutes later and glanced at the clock. Shit, she thought. I'd better get dressed and get downstairs. Josh's bus is going to be here in about ten minutes and Trevor has to leave for work.

When Josh was safely on the bus, in the care of what she considered to be the world's safest bus driver, Mr. Thomas, she pondered whether or not she really wanted the cigarette that she knew was waiting for her in the back of her drawer.

That had been one of their blowouts. They had fought about her habit after his stepfather had been diagnosed with lung cancer. She had hidden the cigarettes away for almost five years now, somehow managing to keep them her dirty little secret through two moves.

She'd never understood quite why she'd taken up the habit. But it had been with her from the time she was old enough to buy cigarettes until Trevor had threatened to leave her if she didn't quit.

Quitting had been hell, but Trevor had a secret weapon that he plied her with during her nicotine withdrawals; lots and lots of sex. That was the only thing that she missed from when they were childless-the sex. You couldn't exactly sneak home on your lunch break to make love to your wife when your kid was coloring or putting a puzzle together in the next room.

Kendra smiled, thinking of their stolen moments from this morning. She might have to start getting up early more often. Her smile faded as she thought of what had gotten her up and decided to have the cigarette after all. She'd throw her pajamas in with the wash and take her shower afterwards.

The cigarette tasted like crap, even more like crap than usual and it was stale as hell from sitting in her drawer for so long. But after the first cough it went down all too smooth.

She thought briefly that it would be all too easy to pick the habit back up. But her husband would kill her or steal away with their son in the night.

She was going to have to research leukemia after her shower, she thought. Figure out if there was some unknown risk that her son was facing and that her subconscious was trying to get her to notice.

She stamped out her cigarette and threw it into the alley behind their house. Inside the house, she discarded her clothes in the washing machine and then went upstairs for her shower.

After she'd showered she felt better. Clean and ready to restart the day.

She checked her e-mail to see if she had any new job prospects, but there was nothing just as there had been nothing for the past month. Taking a deep breath, she typed leukemia in the search bar.

Symptoms came up. As she went through the list she figured that none of them really applied, as far as she could tell. No headaches, no vomiting, certainly no seizures. She read that the symptoms can sometimes mimic the flu. But Josh hadn't even been sick with a cold lately.

When she typed in the causes, to see if anything would come of that, it was no help either.

There was no family history of any type of cancer in either her or Trevor's biological families. Josh hadn't been exposed to any type of radiation, or cigarette smoke.

She sighed, hearing the dryer buzz, glancing at the clock and seeing that Josh would be home from school in less than half an hour. She grabbed the clothes from the dryer, and folded them, putting them away.

She'd closed out of her internet search, shut her computer down and was outside waiting for Josh by the time the bus pulled up.

Mr. Thomas honked and she waved, opening the front gate and stepping out to meet Josh. He waved to his friends, said a mumbled "Thank you," to Mr. Thomas and was off the bus with his backpack that though it was child sized, still looked oversized to her on his tiny frame.

"Thank you Mr. Thomas. He wasn't too much trouble I hope?"

He gave her a smile, his dark eyes twinkling. "Nah, that one, he's never a bit of trouble Mrs. Carrington." He winked at Josh.

"See you tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am." He closed the doors and with another honk drove off.

"I want to play outside Mom. And are we gonna meet Dad at the pizza place tonight?"

Once a month, Trevor brought home pizza for dinner. Josh was always bugging her to meet his dad there so they could eat at the pizza parlor, but they'd only done it a few times.

When Trevor got off of work, all he wanted to do was relax and slip into his Daddy and husband role instead of the role he played at work of advertising assistant for an environmentally friendly household products company.

"Maybe next time Josh. Your dad has to work late tonight."

Josh stomped his foot, like a petulant teenage girl. "Dad always works late."

She sighed. "I know little man, but Daddy has to work to put you through college."

"I don't want college."

This too was a discussion they'd had before, but Josh didn't understand the importance of college. If it kept his dad away from home, he wanted nothing to do with it.

"Why can't Daddy work at home if you can?"

Another old argument. It was going to be a hell of an afternoon she thought.

"How was school?"

He rolled his eyes at her. The look in his eyes said, trying to change the subject huh mom? Well, you're not going to get away with it. He pulled the papers out of his backpack and handed them to her.

She glanced through them, seeing that there was a parent meeting at school next week and that he had a new reading list.

"I want to read that book Mom."

They sent home a list every other week of books that they were reading at school and a suggested reading list that the teachers had put together.

"I don't think you have that one honey."

"Can we go get it?"

"Let me look on the computer and see if they have it at the library."

"Can I watch TV?"

She held back a sigh. If it was up to her, they wouldn't have a TV. The TV had never once been her babysitter since her son was born, and never would it be either.

She remembered being planted in front of the TV way too many times growing up because her mother was too busy getting drunk to deal with a child. But Trevor had talked her into letting him watch a half hour a day, and he watched educational videos with Josh sometimes on the weekends.

She used the remote to turn the TV on, and put it on the children's channel, the only one she had found that played cartoons and programs that had some sort of purpose other than just mindless entertainment.

With Josh settled in front of the TV, she booted her computer back up and logged onto the local library's website, searching for the book that Josh had pointed out. They didn't have it.

She double checked the title again, but she had put it in correctly. She tried putting in the author's name. But though they had other titles by the same author, they didn't have the book Josh wanted.

"The library doesn't have the book you want honey."

"I want that book really bad Mom. Can you look at the store?"

She wasn't particularly fond of the only bookstore in town. It was expensive, and always overcrowded, and the sales clerks seemed to stare at you blankly when you asked a question like you were from another planet. But Josh really didn't ask for a lot.

"I'll look."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

She went to the bookstore's website, and found that the site was as unfriendly as the store. She had to scour the site to find the search box where it was hidden in a place on the bottom of the page.

But when she typed the title in, she found that they did carry the book. She was half hoping that they didn't so she'd have an excuse to order a copy online.

"They have your book Josh. You want to go get it?"

"Can I finish my show?"

"Yes sweetie."

"Thanks Mom."

"You're welcome."

She spent the half an hour that he was watching the program straightening the living room. When the annoying theme song for the cartoon came on Josh looked up expectantly.

"Can we go now Mom?"

"Yes honey."

She turned off her laptop and the TV- and grabbed her purse, letting Josh go ahead of her and out to the car. She locked the house and then pushed the button on her key ring to unlock the car.

Josh gave her a dirty look, and she realized that it had slipped her mind that he liked to press the button to unlock the car.

"Sorry. You can push the button to lock it when we get to the mall okay?"

"Okay."

She strapped him into his car seat and pulled out of the driveway. The mall was about a forty-five minute drive. She dreaded going there.

As she listened to a traffic report on the radio, she checked the backseat as she stopped the car at a traffic light and saw that her son had fallen asleep. You would never be able to look at that boy and not know who his daddy was she thought.

She switched the station on the radio, trying to think of anything else they might need at the mall.

With as much as she disliked going there they didn't often make the trip. If she wasted enough time, and the traffic was like it was now, she could compromise with Josh about the whole pizza thing.

They could probably catch Trevor at the pizza joint and then at the least Josh could ride home with his father.

Josh slept the rest of the way to the mall. She was lucky enough to snag a parking spot relatively close to the doors, when a tired looking mother with a minivan full of at least five kids of various ages pulled out.

Josh woke up when she opened her door and started to unbuckle himself from his car seat.

He'd figured out how to escape shortly after he'd turned two. She'd immediately gone out and bought a different seat, but he'd figured that one out too. He'd only tried once to unbuckle it when the car was in motion and that had been when he was alone in the car with his dad.

Trevor hadn't told her what he'd done to make Josh stop but he'd never tried it again for which she was grateful.

She opened the door; taking his hand and helping him jump down to the pavement of the parking lot.

She shut the door and handed him her key ring so he could lock the doors.

Once it had beeped, he handed the keys back. She slipped them back in her purse and took his hand. They walked across the parking lot and went into the crowded and noisy mall.

"Can we have an ice cream Mom?"

There was a frozen yogurt stand which was supposed to be all-natural so she said "Sure."

"Thanks Mom."

"You're welcome."

Sometimes, just hearing the word made her heart fill up.

When he was a baby, and he'd been testing out his voice, he'd said 'ma ma ma' so many times that she thought she was going to go crazy. But she didn't look forward to the day if he went through the phase that some kids went through when they started calling their parents by their first names.

Even she, who had never really felt that her mother deserved the title, had never called her mother by her first name.

They went into the bookstore, headed to the children's section. They were lucky enough to find the book that Josh wanted. He pleaded with her to let him pick out two more.

Trevor was the one who put him to bed at night, so he would be the one to read the stories that Josh picked out. Like camping in the backyard, reading was a Daddy and son thing.

He'd play games with Mom, put together puzzles, and even let her drive cars around their living room floor with him. But Daddy was the designated book reader.

There wasn't anything else that they really couldn't live without in the mall, and most of the stores, like the bookstore, were overpriced anyway.

After making a stop in the bathroom to wash Josh's face and hands, she breathed a sigh of relief as they walked out of the mall doors.

She let Josh push the button on the key ring because she'd forgotten where they were parked, and the lights flashed obligingly nearby. Moments later they were both belted in.

She pulled out of the lot, glancing at the time.

Trevor should be off of work in fifteen minutes or so. The pizza place was between fifteen and twenty minutes from where they were depending on the traffic. It was only two or three blocks from where Trevor worked, so they should reach it at about the same time.

She thought briefly of calling Trevor but decided against it.

"You want to meet Daddy at the pizza place little man?"

"Yeah. Can we go inside and eat?"

"Not tonight sweetheart. I promise that I'm going to ask Daddy when we can though okay."

He sighed, but said "Okay."

The traffic was light so when they reached the pizza place Trevor wasn't there yet. Josh unbuckled himself and went over to look out the passenger side window.

When Trevor's dark sedan appeared, Josh said excitedly "I see Dad. I see Dad."

"Just a second sweetheart. Wait until Daddy parks his car, and then we'll get out."

Trevor looked distracted when he got out of the car and didn't notice his wife and son until Josh wrapped himself around his father's legs.

"Dad. We met you at the pizza place."

Trevor smiled down at their son. "I'd recognize my favorite six-year-old anywhere. What have you and Mommy been up to?"

"We went to the mall even though Mom doesn't like it there. We got a book off the list from school."

"A new book for you to read to Dad?"

Josh laughed. "It's your turn to read Dad."

Trevor leaned over and gave Kendra a kiss. "And hello to my other favorite person."

"Hello yourself."

He looked tired.

"Are you gonna ask him Mom?" Josh broke in.

"Later honey. Let's go get your pizza."

Trevor usually called ahead so he could pick it up, but at least she could help him carry it out. Or since Josh would most likely choose to ride home with his father, Trevor could take the kid and she could take the pizza.

He held the door for her. The owner's wife gave them a big grin.

"Are we eating in tonight?"

Josh, in a rare moment of shyness, hid behind his father's leg.

"Not tonight. Just happened to run into my two favorite people in your parking lot," Trevor said.

Trevor paid and since Josh was clinging to his father's hand she carried the warm pizza boxes. It smelled wonderful. She breathed in the scent.

When they reached the parking lot, Josh much as she'd expected, said "I want to go home with Dad."

Trevor said "I don't have your car seat Josh."

Kendra had forgotten that he'd taken it out since he was doing carpool in the mornings.

"Take Mom's," Josh said, giving his father a look that said, why didn't you think of that?

"I'll get it out," Kendra said.

Trevor gave her a weak smile, running a hand through his hair.

Josh chatted with his dad about the books, as Kendra wrangled his car seat out of her car. She strapped the seat into Trevor's car herself because Josh was still busy talking Trevor's ear off.

When the seat was in she helped Josh into the car and dropped a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you Josh. Take good care of Daddy for me on the ride home okay?"

"Love you too Mom."

She shut the door and walked to the front of the car. "You okay?"

He nodded. "Just tired, burnt out on all these long days."

"It's almost over isn't it?"

They had never discussed the fact that she knew that he was sending his mother money. What she meant was that the debts had to be almost paid off.

"I don't know."

She held back a sigh. In her opinion, he had given his mother an in and she would never quit asking for money, but she kept it to herself.

So she kept her mouth shut, gave her husband a kiss and said "I love you."

"Love you too babe. We'll see you at home."

They reached home fifteen minutes later and had a quiet dinner.

When they were finished, she and Josh put a puzzle together while Trevor checked his e-mail. Puzzle completed, it was Daddy time.

Trevor helped Josh with his bath and then put him to bed, joining her in their room a few minutes later.

"Is he out already?"

"Yeah, I think he was tired out from all the running around you guys did today."

"You look you're about ready to pass out yourself."

He nodded, stifling a yawn.

"Go to sleep babe. I'm pretty tired myself."

He gave her a lingering kiss and then reached out and turned out the light. "Goodnight Kendra. I love you."

"Love you too Trev."

She laid her head on his bare chest. He was asleep within minutes. She leaned over and double checked the alarm, kissed the side of his neck and closed her own eyes.

Her dreams were clear that night. She had almost completely forgotten the dream of Josh in the hospital a week later, when the knock came at her door.

She looked up at the clock, seeing that it was 2:15, still 45 minutes before Josh got out of school.

They hadn't ordered anything, salesman and the missionaries that Trevor called "converters" pretty much stayed away from their neighborhood. She didn't have the faintest idea of who it could be.

She looked out the security peephole in their door and saw a tall, thin man in a dark colored suit, standing at her door with a briefcase. Thinking that maybe he WAS a salesman, she almost didn't open the door. But he knocked again, and it sounded like he wasn't going to go away.

When she finally opened the door, he said "Hello, Mrs. Carrington. May I come in?"

She was at a loss for words for a moment, and took a step back, almost closing the door in the man's face. There was a look in his eyes that said whatever he was here for; it wasn't to sell her anything.

Stifling an urge to slam the door and call Trevor at work, begging him to come home, she stepped back and let the man step inside.

He closed the door behind them. Somehow, even the simple closing of the door sounded different. It had a finality that she'd never heard when her front door was closed before.

"Thank you Mrs. Carrington. I know that we don't have much time. Your Joshua will be arriving home from school shortly will he not?"

That made her pause. It was one thing to know her name from the mailbox or the phonebook; it was another to know her son's name.

She looked closer at the man who was standing with his briefcase. No badge, so he wasn't from child protective services and of course if he were he would have identified that fact already.

"May I sit?"

She nodded, biting her lip. He sat primly on the couch and opened his briefcase, pulling out a sheaf of papers. She wasn't at all sure that she wanted to know what the papers were for.

"Mrs. Carrington this is never a trip that I like to make, but it is quite necessary all the same."

"I . . . Has something happened to my son? Is Josh okay? Is it my husband?"

"Your son and your husband are both well Mrs. Carrington. I have a proposal for you."

A proposal? Was this strange man a salesman after all she wondered? Maybe he sold life insurance. She waited for him to go on.

"Mrs. Carrington, your son will be diagnosed with leukemia within the next week."

"What?"

How could he possibly know that she wondered? Her dream came back to her mind and she swallowed hard. What the hell was going on?

He held up a hand, telling her to let him continue.

"Unless of course you make the choice to take it on yourself."

"What are you talking about? It's not possible for you to know my son will be diagnosed with leukemia for one thing. It's entirely another to tell me he will but that I can make the choice to take it on myself. If that was possible, children would never get sick, even with the common cold. What parent would possibly let their child get sick when they had the choice to take the sickness themselves?"

"It's not that simple Mrs. Carrington. Not every parent is given the opportunity, and this matter is not taken lightly. We couldn't possibly give every parent the choice to take on every childhood illness. The opportunity doesn't come to even one out of every ten parents. We just don't have the resources. And unfortunately not all that are given the choice make a selfless decision."

She wanted to ask him who in the hell the "we" was that he was talking about, but at the same time she couldn't wrap her head around any part of the conversation, especially the last part, the thought that if a parent was given the choice to save their child from disease, to save their child's life, they would have any real choice but to do it.

"If you sign here on this dotted line, it will relieve your son. A week may be enough time to prepare yourself for the disease, but other than your choice, there will not be a way to prevent it."

"But I don't get it. This whole thing sounds incredibly farfetched. How am I to know that if I sign your papers that it still won't happen somewhere down the line? Are you going to change my son's genetic makeup or something?"

"It is far too much to explain in such a short time. You are an intelligent woman Mrs. Carrington, but something of this matter is hard for anyone to understand. Time is running out. I cannot be here when your son returns home, and unfortunately, there will not be a second chance."

He pushed the papers and an expensive looking pen across the table towards her. "I don't know you, Mr.. . ."

"Thompson. Mr. Thompson."

"Okay, Mr. Thompson. I don't know you and I don't know who in the hell the 'we' you're talking about could possibly be, nor am I sure that I would even want to."

"Understood. Do you remember the way your dream made you feel Mrs. Carrington?"

She blinked. These people were giving her dreams she wondered? She felt like she was in the middle of a science fiction movie.

"Even with the precautions you would likely take Kendra, this is your only chance to stop it."

Why in the hell was she the one that was here and not Trevor she thought? Trevor would have thrown this guy out 15 minutes ago.

But she couldn't do it. As crazy as it may be, she couldn't do it. With a shaking hand, she picked up the pen and glanced at the papers.

"This guarantees that my son will not get leukemia right?"

He nodded. Another thought occurred to her.

"And you're not going to take this away now and then give him something worse later on are you?"

"We do not cause diseases Mrs. Carrington."

She bit her lip, wanting to at least read the papers before she signed them. She glanced at the clock, figuring that she had maybe ten minutes before the bus pulled up and made her decision.

She didn't give a shit if she was agreeing to sell her soul to the devil she thought. She didn't even believe in the devil.

She signed the first page and then Mr. Thompson pointed to two other pages with colored tabs marking them that required her signature. She handed him back the pen, and the paperwork as well as the pen disappeared back into the briefcase.

He stood up, and reached out a hand. She looked at him for a moment, and then it dawned on her that he wanted to shake her hand. She wiped her sweaty palm on her jeans and put her hand in his.

He shook her hand briefly and then walked towards the door. "You won't regret your decision Mrs. Carrington."

She wanted to laugh suddenly. Regret she thought? Her son's life above her own? No way.

Hand on the door; he said "It would be best if you didn't mention my visit to your husband. Not that any harm would come to you of course, but sometimes things are just too much to believe, as I'm sure you know."

She gave him a tight smile. "Right."

"Have a nice afternoon Mrs. Carrington. Any child would be proud to have you as their mother."

And then he opened the door and was gone.

It was only when the bus pulled up at the curb, when she, still standing frozen on her doorstep, noticed the black car that drove by. She closed her eyes for a split second, wanting a cigarette. Hell wanting a joint, though she'd only smoked weed twice in college.

But her son was coming down the steps of the bus and she needed to hold him.

If this was real, he needn't ever know the sacrifice she had made for him. Indeed, as Mr. Thompson has said, it would probably be best if he and Trevor never knew. But she needed to hug her baby or she really was going to cry.

She nodded at Mr. Thomas and took Josh's hand. Mr. Thomas had a look of concern on his face. She put on a smile, giving him a wave as Josh called out bye to his friends and then said "Thank you Mr. Thomas."

"You're welcome Josh. See you tomorrow morning."

She opened the gate and then when the bus was out of sight, swept Josh into a hug.

"You're squeezing me Mom. Put me down."

She wanted to hold him for a while longer, breathe in the scent of his shampoo, the fabric softener, the unique scent of the child that she had created with the man that she loved.

She wanted to shower him with kisses which she hadn't been able to get away with for two years now, but instead put her son down.

They went into the house. She pretended everything was normal.

Saturday morning, Kendra rolled over in bed, and glanced at the clock. It was after 10 and she had a headache and felt like crap. She could hear Trevor and Josh downstairs. Listening to them, though it was obvious they were trying to be quiet, made her head hurt even more.

She sat up, and the room started spinning. She would have sat there for a few minutes, if only the urge to void her bladder hadn't been so strong.

She got up, used the restroom, and then went back and sat on the edge of the bed, head in her hands.

Trevor appeared in the doorway. "Babe, you okay?"

"No. I think I might be getting the flu."

She tried to get up, but her legs went out and everything went black.

The last thing she heard before she passed out was the sound of her son's startled voice saying "Mom?"

She woke up, not knowing if it was days or hours later, and opened her eyes. The light was way too bright. She shut her eyes again.

"Kendra?" Trevor's voice was soft and questioning.

She sat up, and found that she was in a hospital bed, an IV sticking out of her arm. She opened her eyes again and saw her husband looking down at her.

He squeezed her hand. "You scared us for a while there babe."

"Where's Josh?" Her throat was very dry, and it came out like a croak.

Trevor sighed. "Always a mother first. He's with Camilla and Gary babe. He's fine."

Camilla was her close friend from down the street. Gary was her fiancé.

"I want to see him." She reached for the glass of water on the table beside her bed and took a slow sip.

"Honey, let me get the doctor so he can come talk to you."

She shook her head. Fuck the doctor she thought. She wanted her son.

"Babe, he's fine. I promise. You can call him and hear for yourself after the doctor's done explaining what happened to you."

She knew what had happened. She had cancer. She didn't care. Her son was safe.

Trevor walked into the hallway and came back a few minutes later with a tall man, who introduced himself as Dr. Tanner, and asked how she was feeling.

She told him "like crap", which was accurate and kept the elation that it was she who was here and not her son to herself. She was told she had leukemia. What it meant to her life, and treatment options were discussed.

She paid attention with the half of her mind that filed useful information away for later and let the rest of her mind wander to her son. Trevor was jealous of her talent at keeping her mind compartmentalized, paying attention to one thing while really concentrating on another. She was glad when the doctor and the nurses were all gone.

"Call Josh."

"Babe, slow down. This is a lot to take in all at once. It can wait five minutes."

She shook her head. "They're bringing lunch soon. Do it now."

She hadn't meant to sound as abrupt with him as she had. As he turned away from her to reach for the phone, she reached out her hand that wasn't connected to the IV and put it on his back.

"I'm sorry Trevor. I love you. Thank you for being here with me."

"Kendra, you and Josh are my life. I don't know how I could live without either of you. But you have to take care of yourself babe. Especially now."

He looked like he wanted to cry.

"I know Trev, I know. And I very much plan to take care of myself. I just need to hear our baby's voice okay? You understand that don't you?"

He nodded and dialed the phone, handing it to her. Camilla picked up on the second ring.

"Trevor how is she?"

"It's me Cam. I'm fine hon. I mean yeah, I feel like shit and I have cancer but other than that I'm fine. Thank you so much for taking care of Josh. Can you put him on the phone for me for a minute please?"

"Of course hon. I understand completely. He's outside with Kayia and Gary. I'll get him for you."

"Thank you Cam. I mean it."

"I know you'd do the same for me sweetie. I'll be right back with Josh."

Her son's voice came on the phone a minute later sounding incredibly small. "Hello?"

How wonderful it felt to hear his voice she thought.

"Hi baby."

"Hi Mommy. Are you sick? Dad called the doctor to come get you."

"I'm okay baby. I miss you. Are you being good for Camilla and Gary?"

"He's nice. He's gonna be Kayia's step-dad."

"I know pumpkin. I love you."

"I love you too Mom. When are you and Dad coming home?"

"I don't know honey. The doctor has to say it's okay."

"Oh. Camilla read my bedtime story last night. She said it's okay if Moms read bed time stories too. Not just Dads."

Oh how she loved him she thought.

"I'd love to read to you some nights baby. But I think that's Daddy's favorite time of the day."

"You can both do it."

"That would be very nice Josh. I'm going to let you go now honey. I love you."

Trevor was gesturing for her to give him the phone before she hung up.

"Daddy wants to talk to you okay?"

"Okay Mom."

She couldn't hear what Trevor was saying to their son, but figured it was along the lines of being extra special good when she came home.

She was released from the hospital two days later. Her thoughts turned to Mr. Thompson as she walked out of the hospital with her tired-looking husband, who had only gone home once for less than an hour, to shower and change his clothes.

He was taking a week's vacation from work, and they were keeping Josh home from school the next day.

He looked a little shocked when she laid a hell of a kiss on his lips when they got to the car, not caring who was watching.

"I love you."

And you would have done the same thing as I did given the same choice, she added silently to herself.

Camilla and Kayia were waiting with Josh when they got home. There was no sweeter sight than her son's eyes lighting up when he saw them.

She said "Thank you so much," to Camilla, accepting a hug from her friend.

Camilla said "You can call me if you need anything. I'm on vacation myself and am at your beck and call."

"I love you Camilla," she said with a laugh.

"I love you too sweetie. You two take care of her."

Trevor smiled and Josh gave Camilla a solemn nod. "See ya'll later."

She took her son into her arms. This time he didn't protest when she didn't want to let go.

"I love you Mom," he said.

"I love you too baby."

Her life had changed, but the choice she had made had really been no choice, nor did it feel like any kind of a sacrifice. It had just been the right thing to do.

She had quite a journey ahead of her. But knowing her son was healthy made it all worth it. And if she had it to do all over, she'd make the same one.

What Would You Do?

"You need to quit," he said.

She looked up at her husband through the haze of her early morning cigarette smoke and gave him an offhanded shrug. Lung cancer smung cancer she thought, she didn't give a crap.

He sat down on the edge of their bed, waving off the cigarette smoke.

"I'm serious Ali. You're going to kill yourself."

As if she cared. Looking at her husband of ten years, she half hated him. What right did he have to look so good when their daughter was six months in the grave she wondered? They'd both lost weight in the months since her death. But Sam had taken it a step further, started walking, then running, then going to the gym. He looked better now than he had when they'd gotten married.

His excuse was that he had to work off the energy, the emptiness, the rage that they both felt at the loss of their only child. She didn't buy it. If he wasn't screwing around now, he would be sooner or later. He was buffing himself up to trade her in for a younger model.

One that didn't lay in bed all day and smoke, and stare at the ceiling, trying to make herself believe that their baby girl was in heaven instead of in a casket in the ground, being eaten by bugs.

He told her that she needed to snap out it, that Callie would want them to honor her memory instead of stopping their lives completely. At first, she'd told him to go fuck himself, and then she just let him talk and said nothing. She had crushed him over and over with the things that she'd said to him in the months since their daughter's death. She'd seen it on his face.

She'd yelled at him at first, feeling the craziness explode inside of her and having nowhere else to direct it, telling him that she wanted him the hell out of her life. That she couldn't stand to look at him.

And some days she couldn't. Their daughter had had his eyes, his wavy hair.

Her room was like a shrine. Ali could hardly stand to pass it. When the yelling and screaming hadn't been enough to chase her husband away, she'd begged and pleaded with him to go, that she wanted to be alone in her misery. And Sam, ever patient, who had never once raised his voice to Callie, had held her until she was too exhausted to cry anymore.

He'd let her hit him, and scratch him and scream until she was so hoarse she could barely whisper. He still told her that he loved her every day, though she hadn't responded in months, still kissed her goodbye every morning before he left for work. He'd never complained that she hadn't been back to work since Callie's death, that they were paying a ridiculous amount of money to her cousin to run the bookstore that she had inherited from her childless aunt.

She could hardly stand to go outside, afraid that she'd glimpse a child getting off of the school bus, didn't go out in public at all. She couldn't stand the thought of seeing other children, happy and safe, protected by their parents when she'd failed to protect her child.

Sam did everything, worked full time, went grocery shopping, checked on her bookstore. He'd even tried to buy her new clothes that fit since she'd lost so much weight. He refused to buy her cigarettes, so she ordered cartons over the internet.

She left their bedroom for about two hours a day, doing light housework, working on autopilot as she vacuumed, or did the dishes or laundry. All day and half the night, she had headphones in her ears, the music so loud that it shut out her thoughts.

There were no longer any pictures of Callie on display. She'd shut them all in Callie's bedroom, the last time that she'd entered it after their daughter's death, not able to look at them. To look at her baby's smiling, happy face, staring out from all the pictures of the milestones of a life that had been cut tragically short was too much for her to bear.

Sam wanted to move, thought that it would be healthier for them to 'start over' in a new place. She didn't want to start over. She wanted her child back, her life back.

Sam went to a meeting once a month for parents that had lost their children and had been begging her to go, but she couldn't do it.

The thought was always in her head that if only she'd let him go to the store that night for milk like he'd said he would, their daughter would still be alive. But Callie, who had been like a ray of sunshine since she was born, asked for so little.

She'd wanted milk to have with her after school snack. By the time Sam got home, it would have been time for dinner, and her daughter had reminded her they were out of milk that morning at breakfast. She'd forgotten to pick it up on the way to get Callie from school.

So the guilt trip she'd put on herself, from the disappointment of her child, had been what had driven them back out into the rain.

It was pouring. Even with the umbrella that she tried to hold over her daughter's head, and Callie's bright pink rain slicker, she'd been soaked by the time she'd strapped herself into the back seat.

They were only a block from the grocery store when the accident happened.

She wondered why she hadn't left Callie with their neighbor Mrs. Clark, who was a kindly old woman, the surrogate grandmother of all the neighborhood children, while she ran to the store. Why hadn't she paid the inflated price at the convenience store that was only two blocks away for milk instead of going to the grocery store which was two miles away? Why, oh why hadn't it been her and not Callie?

Sam and Callie could have gone on without her. She could not go on without Callie. And it was all such ridiculous circumstances, the angle of the crash, the fact that her daughter was killed by a drunk driver who was not only not an alcoholic, but a man who rarely drank.

A man who lived down the street from them and had a four-year-old and a two-year-old son.

She'd tried to hit him when they'd succeeded in pulling her away from the crushed back seat of her car so they could extract her daughter. She'd thrown up on the side of the road, and then turned and saw Albert Gonzalez sitting on the curb, looking like he wished he could crawl into a grave himself.

He was in handcuffs but the cops had their backs turned. She'd taken a swing at him just when her husband had arrived.

She wouldn't have cared if she'd gone to jail, if she could have gotten away with choking the man, a man whose children she had watched a few months before for a few hours because he had to go in to work unexpectedly, she would have.

Her life was over the minute that they took her child out of the back of her smashed to hell car covered with a sheet.

That the man was obviously traumatized, that he'd been sobbing almost as loud as she had when the cops finally took him away, was no matter to her. That his wife had left him as soon as his prison sentence had started meant nothing. That she'd left their children to live with his aunt, a woman who was eighty and in poor health, didn't keep her up at night.

He had taken her child's life. She'd had to watch her daughter's body being lowered into the ground, in a coffin that she couldn't bring herself to help Sam pick out, and stop herself from jumping in so she could be buried with her daughter-that was what mattered.

Sam went to his trial. Sam accepted the condolence letter that he'd had another inmate send from prison and tried to make her read it. He'd left it on her nightstand. She'd burned it the next morning and flushed the ashes down the toilet, chasing them with the contents of her stomach as she'd vomited up the coffee and orange juice that she'd had for breakfast.

Her life was all about pain and her husband, who had always been ruggedly handsome, a little rough around the edges, now looked like an ad for good health for men in their thirties.

It disgusted her. She was wasting away, dead inside, smoking a pack and a half of cigarettes a day, living in her bedroom, reading endless articles of terrible things that happened to children. He was working, had gotten a promotion, and wanted to go on a cruise.

She'd told him that he could go by himself and that she hoped he found a girlfriend. He'd shaken his head and hadn't brought the idea up again.

She'd been tempted to file for divorce but she doubted he'd sign the papers and that would mean that she'd have to leave the house. And she didn't know what she would do if he really left her.

She'd demanded he leave her, begged him to leave her, and didn't expect him to come home most nights. But he was the only thing that was halfway holding her together.

As much as she hated her husband because he was going on, living while their child was dead, she didn't love him any less than she ever had.

So her love was hidden, and her hate was easier to express. But the hate was only a facade that hid the pain.

The pain that bubbled up if she let her brain sit still for too long, that crippled her some mornings so much that she couldn't get out of bed.

He thought she should see a therapist. He thought she should take antidepressants when she knew that the only thing that would keep her daughter out of her head would be twenty-four-hour sedation.

He wanted to make love, and she shrank from his touch, while needing it so much that when he didn't touch her she wanted to cry. She couldn't talk to him anymore, couldn't tell him that she loved him; she needed him, that she couldn't look at him not because he disgusted her, but because she saw their child in his face.

She couldn't tell him how much she hated herself for living when their child was gone, that it was all her fault.

He took it and took it until she thought she couldn't live with herself anymore. On Halloween night, he turned off the porch light and watched TV in the bedroom, while she let the music scream in her head and tried not to think of how Callie planned months ahead what she wanted to be for Halloween.

She'd loved to make believe and had wanted to be an actress, an actress who donated half of what she made to the poor and the hungry in countries she'd only seen on TV.

Their daughter, the light of both their lives, could have helped change the world. Instead she'd been killed at six, when their neighbor had smashed into the side of their car.

She hadn't driven since, and the car that Sam had purchased with the insurance money was sitting under a tarp in their garage. She told him to sell it. He told her it would be there when she needed it and faithfully paid the insurance.

At Thanksgiving, he tried to persuade her to go out to a restaurant. When she refused, he cooked dinner himself and practically dragged her out to the dining room and watched her pick at her food. He was a good cook, better than she had ever been. Callie had loved it on the nights Daddy had cooked.

She lost more weight and he said she needed to see a doctor. She refused. He sighed and bought her clothes a size smaller.

At Christmas, he put up a Christmas tree and bought her a stack of presents like she hadn't seen since before they'd had Callie.

She bought him a subscription to an internet porn site and suggested he start screwing his secretary like every other good businessman in America when she got drunk from too much wine on an empty stomach.

He got upset and yelled at her and told her he couldn't watch her kill herself. She lit a cigarette and told him he didn't have to. He knew where the door was. He got up then and left.

When he was gone, she threw her half full glass of wine at the front door and didn't bother to clean up the shattered mess on the floor.

Then she lay down on the floor and cried, curling up in a fetal position between the couch and the coffee table, hating herself more than ever.

She passed out and woke up the next morning, Christmas morning, her head pounding and noticed that the mess was still on the floor. Sam hadn't come home.

She picked up the glass and tried to scrub the stain out of the carpet, but knew there was no way in hell it was ever going to come out.

She went upstairs and looked at her face in the mirror and cried some more. She stood at the door to her daughter's room for what seemed like hours before she finally opened it.

She lay on her daughter's bed, breathing in the scent that still managed to linger on the sheets. She cried until she had no more tears and then went down to the basement and dug out the boxes that had been stored there since they'd bought the house when Callie was two and they'd planned on having more children.

She spent hours packing up everything that had brought her child joy and hauling it out to the garage.

Then she tore down her child's bed, and lugged it down the stairs. She took apart the dresser, pulled the shelves off of the bookshelf, and took it all down to the garage. By this time, she was sweating like a pig. Muscles she didn't know she had ached.

But she wasn't done until the desk was gone, and every hanger was out of the closet. The only thing that was left in Callie's room was her pictures, filling the walls. When it was all done, she opened the window, sat down in the middle of the room and chain smoked half a pack of cigarettes.

It was night fall by then and still no Sam. Maybe he had finally decided to leave her after all she thought.

She got up, shutting the door to her daughter's room, closing her eyes when she thought she heard the sound of her daughter's laughter.

She took a shower, letting the water run over her until it grew cold. Then she crawled naked into bed, pulling the comforter over her that held her husband's scent and fell asleep on his pillow.

The day dawned and still he didn't come home.

She went downstairs, feeling hungry for the first time in months, and made herself an omelet, surprising herself when she ate every bite. When she was finished, she poured herself a cup of coffee and stood by the front window, watching the snow fall.

Callie had loved the snow. She didn't mind getting all bundled up as long as she could play outside until her cheeks were pink with cold, as long as she could have cocoa when she came inside.

She'd laughed with her father as he teased her that she had more marshmallows in her glass than cocoa.

Her laugh was the sweetest sound in the world, could make it all better after the worst day, after her most terrible fight with Sam.

They'd been fighting over some stupid thing one night when Callie was four. She'd woken up and come downstairs and looked at them accusingly with her big eyes and told them they shouldn't yell so loud and wake her up.

They'd looked at each other and then at their daughter. It had all been forgotten.

She was the light that kept the darkness away, like last year when Sam's company had been laying people off and they were afraid that he was going to get fired, or when the sales at the bookstore were so bad that Ali was afraid that she was going to have to sell the store that her aunt had worked half of her life to build.

She was love, kindness, everything that a child should be. The best of her mother wrapped up with the best of her father, without Ali's temper and Sam's almost blind dedication to his work that had let him shut his family out more than once when they still had one.

She was the child that never minded sharing her crayons at school, that would share her lunch with another child who had forgotten theirs, the girl who stuck up for the children that got picked on. Her teacher hadn't been sure whether to be amused or amazed when she had faced down a boy twice her size when he'd been picking on a little girl in her class who was autistic.

That her child who could have changed people's lives for the better, who HAD in her all too short time on earth, changed people's lives for the better, had been taken not only from her and Sam but from the world, was such a sad waste that she wanted to scream.

She wanted to break things. She wanted to smash her hand through a window, a wall, just to feel the pain. She wanted to feel something, anything but the emptiness that was eating her alive. She didn't want it to hurt so bad to think about her child that she couldn't bear the memories. That was a dishonor to her daughter's memory. She couldn't shut it out. Callie deserved better.

She put her coffee cup in the sink, and took her cigarettes and ashtray up to Callie's room.

The window was still open and the room was frigid, but she didn't care. Seeing a stray teddy bear shoved to the back of Callie's closet that she had forgotten, she picked it up and cradled it in her arms, much as she had cradled her child in her arms when she was a baby.

She looked at each of the pictures in the frames in turn, adding memories in her mind.

That was her first birthday, when she had gotten as much cake on her face as she had in her belly, and had smeared it all over Sam when he had unthinkingly lifted her out of the high chair when she'd reached for him.

There was her school picture from preschool, looking like a little lady in the dress that she had picked out herself. Her taste in clothes was already better than her mother's at age three.

Other birthdays, Halloween, Christmas, school plays, fishing with her dad. Her first bike. Her first haircut. Flower girl at Sam's best friend's wedding. Sitting up on the counter at the bookstore, sitting in Sam's chair at work on bring your child to work day, behind the wheel of Dad's car.

The last, taken less than a week before her death, was of Callie learning to roller skate with her dad. Mom took the pictures, because Mom was terribly uncoordinated.

She laid her head on the teddy bear and soaked it with her tears, clinging to it, like if she squeezed tight enough it would bring her daughter back.

But no matter what she did, nothing ever would. If she shut it out, if she embraced it, if she let it continue to kill her, so that she might as well have climbed into her daughter's grave, none of it would bring Callie back.

She took all of the pictures off of the walls and returned them to their places in the living room, in Sam's study, in their bedroom.

She took the teddy bear and crawled back into bed, choosing to lie again on Sam's pillow as if lying on his side of the bed with their daughter's teddy bear might bring at least her husband back.

She slept for 12 hours. When she woke up, Sam still hadn't come home.

New Year's came and still no Sam. She couldn't bring herself to call his cell phone, fearing that he hated her half as much as she hated herself.

She got plastered and sat outside on their front stoop in the cold, wearing Sam's letterman jacket from high school and watching life go on around her.

The presents he'd bought her still sat unopened under the tree. She was tempted to toss them all into the dumpster in the alley.

She'd finally done it she thought. After putting him through eight months of pure hell, her husband had finally decided not to come home.

She pictured him in the arms of another woman. The thought turned her stomach so much that she turned and threw up in the bushes.

Twisting her wedding ring around and around on her finger, she looked up at the sky and tried to imagine her daughter up in the sky, in the care of Ali's dead grandmother and Sam's dead father. But she couldn't.

She lit another cigarette as January 1st turned into January second and finally went into the house.

She went upstairs, undressed and crawled into bed, burying her face in her husband's pillow, which was already starting to lose his scent, and cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, she got up, showered, got dressed, and pondered the pile of laundry in the corner of her bedroom.

It needed to be done. But could she bring herself to take her husband's clothes downstairs and wash them she wondered? Then they too would lose his scent.

She thought back to the night she'd met him. She hadn't wanted to fall in love with Sam, but she had all the same. He was everything on the surface that she had purposefully kept herself away from in high school.

He was loud, he was obnoxious, you could have looked at him then and thought that there was no way in hell he could carry on an intelligent conversation.

She had just gotten out of a bad relationship. The last thing that she'd wanted was another one, or a one-night stand, which is the only thing she figured he was after when he had approached her at the party that her friend had had to bribe her to go to.

Her friend had abandoned her to flirt with some guy who looked old enough to be their father. She'd been trying to figure out a way to slip out without her friend seeing her.

She'd taken one step toward the door when Sam stepped directly in her path.

"Hi," he said.

He seemed pretty drunk, but he didn't smell like most guys did when they were drunk. He was wearing a little too much cologne, but there was something underneath that she couldn't describe as anything but utterly man. She couldn't describe what it was even now, not exactly.

She'd tried to step around him. He'd put a hand on her arm.

"Hey," he said.

"What?"

She was irritated, the music was giving her a headache, and she was cursing the fact that she'd ever meant Brett, though it had been years before, in second grade.

"I'm Sam."

She raised an eyebrow. "So?"

He laughed. "You're not very friendly are you?"

She sighed. "Look Sam," she'd said, and given him a look that she'd hoped told him that she'd rather have a conversation with something that was stuck on the bottom of her shoe. "I'm not in the mood to be hit on by some stranger at a party I didn't want to come to."

"So why'd you come then?"

"You don't want to know."

Brett and her friend had turned around to head for more drinks. She'd managed to squeeze between Sam and the wall and head towards the door. But he followed her.

"You have beautiful hair."

She'd figured he was looking at her ass. At that time, her hair was long enough that it brushed the top of her ass.

"Thanks Sam," she muttered sarcastically.

They had reached the door. She stepped outside, digging in her purse for a cigarette, hoping that lighting it would disgust him and make him go away.

But instead he said "Can I bum one?"

Sam had been an on again off again smoker back then.

She hid her frustration, and handed him a cigarette and her lighter.

"What's your name?"

He handed her back the lighter.

She was tempted to walk away, but figured he'd probably follow her. He was certainly persistent and it was at least a mile to her apartment. So she pondered lying to him for a moment, figuring that she'd never see him again anyway. But she decided against it.

"Ali."

"Is that short for something?" He said, blowing a smoke ring.

She shook her head, shivering in her light jacket.

"Huh," he said.

"What?"

"It's usually short for something."

"My mother wasn't a real good speller."

He gave her a funny look. She shivered involuntarily again. He'd started to take off his jacket, the same high school letterman jacket that was draped over the couch now.

"Don't."

"You're cold. I was trying to be a gentleman."

He looked wounded.

"I want to go home Sam. I'm tired."

"I'll give you a ride."

"I'm fine and I have a feeling you've had more than a little to drink."

"You can drive."

"Then how will you get home?"

"Oh, yeah." He'd looked puzzled for a moment. It had dawned on her for the first time that maybe he was out for more than an easy lay.

"Where do you live?"

She gave him her address.

"I only live about a block away from you. I should be able to make it home without killing myself."

"You drive drunk often?"

"No."

He'd insisted on slipping his jacket over her shoulders and handed her his car keys. His car was a mustang that was beat up on the outside, but pristine on the inside.

He was obviously proud of it.

As she adjusted the seat he said "Pretty nice huh?"

"Yep."

"I haven't had the time or the cash to fix up the outside yet, but you don't drive on the outside of the car."

She nodded, starting the engine. Once it caught in the cold air, it purred like the well -oiled machine that it was.

When her aunt had died, they'd been married about six months. The money they hadn't put into revitalizing the book store and paying off their college loans, Sam had put into finishing his restoration of the car.

He'd sold it for an amount that she thought was ridiculous, but would probably have paid for at least a year of college for Callie.

She'd driven his car to her shitty apartment and handed his jacket back when he walked her to the door.

She'd been shivering again what only seemed like seconds after stepping out of the car, and he looked guilty as he slipped his arms back into his jacket.

"Can I call you?"

"Sam."

"What?"

"I've known you like two seconds."

He laughed. "Do you know how many people there are in this world that you haven't met for two seconds?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not up on the world population Sam."

"Give me a chance. I'll cook you dinner."

She snorted. "You cook? What-ramen noodles?"

"Yuck. I promise I won't try to seduce you. I love the way you look. So fresh and natural with all the hair. You look like a flower child."

"Yep, that's me. A hippie. You want to come up to my apartment and smoke some dope? Pop some acid?"

He sighed. "Ali please. I really like you."

"You don't know me Sam."

"But I'd like to."

He looked so earnest.

"Fine."

He practically jumped for joy. "Great. Are you busy next weekend?"

She shook her head.

"Okay. I'll pick you up at six thirty on Saturday then?"

"Okay."

"Goodnight Ali."

"Night Sam."

She turned towards her door. He touched her shoulder.

"Ali?"

"Yes Sam?"

"Can I kiss you?"

No, no, no she'd thought. No touching, no kissing, just no. She hadn't been abused as a child, but her parents had rarely touched her when she was past her toddler years. They'd rarely touched each other either. She wondered why they were still married, wondered sometimes if her conception had been the only time they'd made love.

Her first boyfriend in high school, she'd slept with on their second date. Her yearning for affection from her parents had morphed into a need to be touched, to be loved by a man.

Looking at the ground, she shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Ali."

And his voice said that it WAS okay, even while his eyes told her that he still wanted to kiss her.

"Drive safely Sam."

He said "Always," twirling his car keys in his hand.

He was down the steps and had opened his car door when she called out "Sam." He turned towards her. She was down the steps and at his side seconds later.

At first she just laid her head on his chest, wanting to be held. He'd pulled his jacket around her, keeping both of them warm.

Then SHE kissed HIM. His response turned it into the sweetest, most fulfilling kiss she'd ever had.

He made lasagna for dinner on their date. They'd watched movies until two o'clock in the morning. Then he walked her home.

She seduced him on their third date and then couldn't bring herself to talk to him for two weeks. She didn't answer her phone, and never bothered to check her messages. She'd only opened the door that night when he knocked because she'd ordered Chinese and thought it was the delivery guy with her food.

He was standing there with the biggest teddy bear she'd ever seen and a dozen roses, thinking that he was the one that had done something wrong.

She fell in love with him that night, while they ate takeout in her living room. He told her stories about growing up, watching his parents struggle to make it.

She broke down and told him that she'd wondered for a long time if her parents loved her, why they'd had her. He'd held her all night long, fully clothed in her bed.

After that, they spent every minute that either of them had off of work together.

Sam was funny and sarcastic, and could be downright obnoxious at times, letting most people think that he was a lot less smart than he really was. But he WAS smart, and he was sweet and kind. No one she'd known before him besides her grandma and her aunt had made her feel so loved.

Standing in her bedroom, lost in a daydream, she shook her head and grabbed an empty laundry basket from her closet, sorting out the clothes. She put her clothes in the basket that was headed to the washer, and left all his clothes in the hamper, besides his smelly workout clothes.

After she'd eaten a bowl of cereal and had her first cup of coffee, she put the clothes in the washer and then went into the living room.

She was going to have to tear down the Christmas tree, but the huge stack of presents daunted her. She didn't want to open them; didn't want to know what her husband had gotten her for what she feared was their last Christmas together.

Not that she cared much about Christmas, had put on the whole song and dance for the last few years for the benefit of their daughter. But what kind of justice was it that her first Christmas without her child could very well be the last with her husband she wondered?

She was such a callous bitch, she thought as she lit a cigarette, getting him a subscription to a porn site for Christmas and telling him to start fucking his secretary. Not that they'd had sex much these past few months anyway. But could she have done anything more to push him further away? He was crazy to have stayed with her as long as he had.

She got the boxes that the ornaments and other decorations were stored in, and started tearing apart the Christmas tree.

Thoughts of their last Christmas with Callie started to drift into her mind. She grabbed her mp3 player. Relief came when the music was blasting in her ears.

She'd stripped the tree, put the decorations back in the basement, and had hauled the tree out for pickup with the garbage at the curb when her cell phone rang.

She'd ended up yanking her charger from the wall instead of just unplugging it from the cord when it stopped ringing.

It switched over to voicemail. She was dismayed to find that it wasn't Sam when she pushed the button to retrieve it.

It was her cousin, who wanted to know when she was coming back to work, so she could take some time off.

Wonderful, Ali thought. She was going to have to find someone to take Shandra's place.

She may have been ready to clear out her daughter's room, but she wasn't ready to go back to work and face the mothers and children that came into the store. And interviews?

Ugh she thought, maybe she could convince Shandra to stick around and do them, though she wasn't sure how much she trusted the younger woman's judgment.

She was twenty-five, had been married and divorced twice, and had four children all with different fathers.

Her latest boyfriend had multiple piercings, scary tattoos and green hair. He called himself Spike. Ali called him a guy that she hoped her cousin didn't end up having a child with.

She texted Shandra back, telling her that she'd give her two weeks paid vacation if she'd do the interviews for her replacement.

Shandra wanted four.

Ali said three. Shandra agreed, but only after Ali had said she'd give her a dollar an hour raise.

Only when she'd vacuumed the floor, drank another cup of coffee, and transferred the clothes from the washer to the dryer did she sit down on the floor and start on her stack of presents.

There were books, clothes, a new winter coat, gloves and a matching scarf, a gorgeous pair of boots that she would probably kill herself in because she could barely walk in heels, skimpy lingerie that she almost cried over. A new robe and slippers, a basket of smelly bath soaps and bubble bath, a gift certificate for a day spa.

The last two were small. The first was a locket that held two pictures, one from their wedding day, and one from the hospital when Callie was born.

She'd always hated the picture. Sam looked tired but was grinning so wide he looked like his face would split, Callie was blinking up at him and she was in her hospital bed, in the crappy hospital gown, her arm hooked up to an IV, her hair a mess, refusing to look at the camera.

The last was her engagement ring. She'd lost the stone years before. He'd had it replaced and added an inscription inside the band that said "All my love, Sam."

She picked up the mess from the brightly colored paper, tears streaming down her cheeks, music blasting in her ears.

When the mess was taken care of, she curled up on the couch with Sam's letterman jacket and Callie's teddy bear, the locket around her neck and her engagement ring beneath her wedding ring on her finger and fell asleep.

When she woke up and the sun was low in the sky and Sam still hadn't come home, she figured that it was probably time to admit to herself that he really wasn't coming home.

Not that she could blame him of course, and it had been his walking out on her that had finally started to snap her out of her stupor.

She suddenly didn't want to be at home anymore, where all the memories were locked up.

Not that she actually wanted to be out in public and face other people either, but a long drive might be nice she thought.

Not that she'd driven since the night that had changed their lives forever, not that she'd bothered to look twice at her car since Sam had brought it home, not that the drive itself probably wouldn't be filled with thoughts of Callie. She'd loved long drives too.

Two years before when Sam had to go away for a business trip during the summer months, they'd gone for a lot of long drives together, music blasting, windows down, the breeze blowing their hair.

Ali's hair was much shorter now than it had been when she'd met Sam, it barely brushed her shoulders, but Callie had looked at the pictures of her mother before Ali had had her with all her hair and had immediately decided that she wanted her hair to be that long.

Ali closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Would it ever NOT hurt to think about her child she wondered?

It used to be that the mere thought of the ray of sunshine that she'd given birth to was all that got her through a hard day.

When Callie was four and in preschool, she'd been training a young woman whom she had first thought was overqualified for the job and utterly responsible to manage the store.

They were planning a vacation over the summer, the first real one they'd been able to take since Callie was born because between her work at the store and Sam's it had been impossible to plan. But the woman started flaking out.

Ali wasn't the most patient person in the world in the first place, unless it came to her daughter. Her patience was at its end when the woman had come in to work that day, two hours late and reeking of alcohol.

She'd called in three of her last four scheduled days and Ali was about ready to fire her as it was. But she'd walked in the door, and knocked over a display of books. When she'd been trying to pick them up, a huge bottle of beer had fallen out of her pocket and had spilled all over the books, ruining at least two hundred dollars' worth of inventory.

Ali had wanted to scream at her. It was her first instinct because growing up in a family that showed no emotion, she'd had a lot that had been tamped down for too long. But she'd thought of her daughter, who had come home from preschool the week before and had told a story about a teacher that had yelled at her classmate because he had accidentally knocked down another child.

Callie had explained that the child was normally a bully, and had come close to being asked to leave school more than once because of his behavior. But he hadn't done it on purpose that time.

He'd actually been in the process of helping the little girl up when the teacher had had her outburst. Callie had said solemnly, looking up at her mother with her father's eyes, that people should think before they yelled. Her childish wisdom had once again astounded her mother.

So instead of yelling at Carmen and throwing her out onto the street, Ali had closed her eyes and pictured her daughter's face.

Without a word, she'd picked the books up and tossed them into the trash. She'd even offered to pay for treatment for Carmen. The woman had seemed grateful at first. Ali had been ready to let her come back to work, about a week before their vacation was scheduled, but then she'd started using drugs and the vacation didn't happen.

Well, they had their vacation, but Mommy had to work during the day and they didn't leave home.

Instead they camped out in the backyard, and had barbecues every night. Instead of going to the lake or playing in the swimming pool of the hotel they were going to stay at, they had run through the sprinkler with their child, like overgrown children themselves.

It was wonderful, and again Callie had proven herself to hold the wisdom that adults seem to lose when they got older.

When her father had asked her if she was disappointed they hadn't been able to go on their trip, she had told him that the trip didn't matter. It just mattered that they were together.

What a wonderful woman Callie would have been, she thought. It still hurt like hell.

She knew that she was going to cry probably a thousand more times in the years to come thinking about her child's short life, or thinking about what could have been, but that was okay.

She was probably going to cry more over losing Sam too, but she'd deal with that as well.

She shoved her cell phone and a pack of cigarettes into her purse, which had been gathering dust underneath the coffee table. She then took her car keys from the hook they'd been hanging on in the kitchen and went out to the garage. She pulled the tarp off of her car and wanted to cry again.

The car that had been ruined in the crash had been a late model sedan with no frills. When they'd had to replace her old car that had completely died, there wasn't a lot of extra money.

Sam's father had just died and Sam was the one that paid for the funeral, because his father hadn't had life insurance.

She'd never particularly liked Sam's mother, she always seemed like she favored Sam's sister over him simply because she was a girl; but Sam had always stuck by his mother. He'd said there was no way he was going to let his father be buried in a pauper's grave and not have a proper funeral.

It didn't matter to him that though his sister hadn't put a dime towards the funeral or the wake, she'd deferred to her daughter the whole time, acting as if Sabrina was the only one that had lost a father.

Ali had wanted to slug the bitch when she blatantly ignored Sam and even Callie in favor of Sabrina and Sabrina's little girl who was a spoiled little brat. But she had kept her mouth shut.

She'd been the one to hold Sam when he sobbed over the loss of his father. Even Callie had offered him more comfort than his mother.

A small smile came to her lips when she thought that the only good thing that would come of Sam divorcing her would be the fact that she wouldn't have to deal with his mother and sister anymore. But it faded as she looked at the car again.

This car was not a replica of the one that had been lost in the crash. This was the car she'd wanted but they couldn't afford.

How could I be so stupid Ali thought?

Her husband had tried everything to break her out of her mind numbing depression. He had loved her enough to see that while it was understandable that she would never completely get over the loss of their child, and he wouldn't either, it was unfair to Callie for her to simply STOP living.

It wouldn't bring Callie back, and Callie had never liked to see anyone sad. She would never forget Callie, but Callie wouldn't want to see her mother like this.

She pushed the button on the key ring to unlock the car and got behind the wheel. The seat was in exactly the right position. She wondered how long it had taken Sam to get it right. She fiddled with it herself forever when she got a new car or drove Sam's because it took HER forever to get it right.

Oh how she loved him she thought. How she missed the sound of his voice, his off-key humming when he got out of the shower, his crappy coffee in the morning that was always too strong for her tastes.

She started the car, and the radio came on to the station she'd played over the internet before she'd downloaded all the songs to her mp3 player. Heavy, hard rock that could be as depressing as it was meaningful.

She flicked the garage door opener that he'd left on the passenger seat and let a small sigh escape her lips as she backed out of the garage. He'd thought of everything, as he always did.

How was it that he always seemed to know what she needed or wanted before she'd even gotten through realizing it herself?

He'd been the same way with Callie. She'd talk about a book or a toy when her dad wasn't around and he'd come home with it within days, or if not then, the next birthday or holiday.

She'd thought that he had the house bugged for a while. But when she'd torn apart their living room one night looking for a listening device or a camera after Callie was in bed and he was out for drinks with some of his friends from the office, he'd come home and found her and thought she was crazy.

When she sheepishly explained what she was doing to him, he laughed so long and hard that by the time he was done he was holding his stomach and tears were running down his face.

Then he'd given her a hug and said "I listen when I'm here babe. I know what Callie likes, and I know what you like. When you love someone as much as I love you two, you want to make them happy."

She'd told him that he made them happy just by being there. It had always been true.

They could have lost their house, sold everything they owned and lived in a broken down trailer in the middle of nowhere and it wouldn't have mattered. They were a family. In the end, when it all came down to it, it didn't much matter what you had had when you were alive. What mattered was the lives that you had touched, the love that you had shared.

Music blasting, window rolled down, she lit a cigarette, and behind the wheel of a car for the first time since her daughter's death, pondered calling her husband, begging him to come home.

But she couldn't do it. It wasn't fair for him to have put up with all the crap that she had put him through and expect him to tuck his tail between his legs and come home. She loved him way too much to ask him to help her put the pieces of her heart back together when it was what he'd been begging her to let him to do for months.

So she drove. She drove through the twilight and then the full dark for hours, driving aimlessly until she wouldn't have known where she was without the GPS system in the dashboard.

She was hungry so she headed back toward civilization and stopped at a fast food drive through. Then she pulled into a gas station because she was almost out of gas and decided to go into the twenty-four-hour supercenter in the same shopping center.

She took a deep breath and let it out, stamped out her cigarette, and went through the automatic doors.

The store was quiet; it was after midnight so she probably wouldn't see a lot of parents with children.

And was it right for her to want other parents to not have what she'd had with her daughter she wondered? When you had it, you had to hold onto it as long as it lasted, whether your child was taken from you in one form or another, or they just grew up and moved away.

As she wandered through the aisles she tried to remember the last time she'd visited her parents and couldn't.

She'd only taken Callie to visit them twice. Both times had been hard. Callie was used to her parents and Sam's dad, the affection and love that was shared so openly. Next to that, her parents might as well have been pillars of stone.

The second time, Callie was three and had asked her why Grandma and Grandpa were so sad.

Ali hadn't known what to say. She'd never thought of her parents as sad or depressed, more mad at the world and the lives they'd been given.

She had never understood why they'd gotten married in the first place. There didn't seem to be any love or even affection between the two of them. They were only bonded in the child they'd had together, one neither of them particularly seemed to care for, let alone love.

She'd wondered if it was her, if there was something in her that they just couldn't love, but had figured when she'd had Callie that no matter what child they'd had together, they would have been the same.

It was an accident of birth, the thing that makes one child born into one family and another into another, and Sam and Callie had been able to make up for it. They'd given her so much love that it no longer mattered whether or not her parents had ever loved her, or ever would.

She stopped in the beauty supply aisle, thinking that she wanted to color her hair. She'd been on a kick to be a blonde when she learned she was pregnant with Callie but had forgotten about it.

She wanted to paint her nails too, she thought. Callie had loved to have her nails painted, and had sat patiently while Ali who wasn't the greatest at it herself, had painted them for her. In her kindergarten class she had started a phase with all the little girls because she wore a different color of nail polish every week.

She picked up a couple boxes of hair dye and several different colors of nail polish and brought them to the tired check out girl.

When she was checked out and back in her car, it hit her again that she was facing a life alone. She put her head down on the steering wheel and wept.

By the time she had gotten herself together and used the directions the GPS provided to drive home, it was three in the morning.

Still no Sam. Not that she expected him to be there. She decided she would put her gifts away in the morning and headed up to bed.

In the morning, though it was hardly morning since she crawled out of bed a few minutes before noon, she took a shower and went downstairs, made herself a brunch of eggs, toast and hash browns, and drank three cups of coffee. She put her presents away and pulled the clothes out of the dryer.

She cried a little again when she folded Sam's clothes, but looking up, she caught her daughter's gaze in the photo that was back on her nightstand and smiled a little, a tiny smile that didn't last long. But it was enough to make her stop crying.

She went into the bathroom, reading the directions on the box of hair dye. An hour later, she was a blonde. She wasn't sure how it would take because her hair was normally quite dark. But she thought it looked pretty good, brought out the color of her eyes.

Then she went downstairs, and sat on the living room floor where she used to sit with Callie and painted her nails a dark, shiny blue that almost matched her car exactly. Then she had nothing to do.

No child to care for, no job to go to, no husband to admire her new hair color. She was a mother who had lost her child, a wife that had driven her husband away and was now waiting to be served with divorce papers. So she called the local animal shelter and asked what it took to adopt a kitten.

She went to a pet store and bought supplies. When she was leaving the strip mall she saw a place that did tattoos and piercings. She'd never really understood why anyone would want a tattoo, but she had a picture of Callie in her wallet. The sign on their window showed two very skillfully done portraits tattooed on unnamed bodies.

Fuck it Ali thought. She was alone, divorce felt imminent and she wouldn't mind walking around not only with her daughter forever in her heart, but on her skin as well.

A sex god was behind the counter when she walked in, talking on a cordless phone. She felt a pang of guilt for even thinking of how attractive the guy was, but couldn't help it.

He was just over six feet tall with dark hair and gorgeous hazel eyes, wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt. He had a tattoo on his neck. She was wondering how much that had to have hurt when he held up a finger to tell her he'd be just a minute.

She gave him a weak smile and sat down in an uncomfortable chair, looking at the designs and pictures of tattoos that were displayed. He was good, though there was a sign that said there were two other artists that worked with him. Though there was no one else in the shop at the moment, both names at least sounded female.

He placed the phone back on the charger and turned to her. "Hi. How can I help you?"

She cleared her throat. "It says that you do kind of portrait tattoos?"

He nodded. "That would be me. My partners both do awesome work, but." He pointed to the tattoo on his neck. "That's my specialty."

"The pictures on the window, they're beautiful."

"Thank you. So what are you looking for?"

She pulled the picture of her daughter out from her wallet and reluctantly handed it to him, not wanting to let go.

"She's gorgeous. How old?"

"Thank you. That was just after she turned six."

Her last birthday. Oh she could not let herself cry in front of this beautiful specimen of a man she thought.

"I'm sorry." She cleared her throat again. "She died about eight months ago, and I'd like to honor her memory. I haven't been doing a very good job of it so far. It feels right."

He nodded. There was compassion in his eyes. "I'm sorry. My name's Zach by the way."

"I'm Ali."

"Nice to meet you, Ali. I wish it would have been under different circumstances."

"Thank you." She took the picture back from him. "So you can do it?"

He nodded, reaching up to run his hand over his short hair, showing a tattoo peeking out on his wrist when his sleeve rode up.

"It takes longer. It would probably be better if we made an appointment. If you'll let me make a photocopy of the picture, I can put together a sketch and have that to work with by the time you come back."

She nodded, handing the picture back to him. She caught herself trying to check out his butt when he walked away. She wanted to smack herself in the head, like she used to do to Sam when she caught him checking out some other woman's butt or chest.

It was okay to admire another man when your marriage was stable, but not when you'd tossed it out the door like yesterday's garbage because you were too busy having a pity party and ignoring that your husband was in pain himself and you were just piling more on top of it.

She felt like an ungrateful bitch that had taken her husband for granted when they'd needed each other the most. When Zach came back she couldn't meet his eyes.

"You okay?"

She nodded. "Hey, you do piercings, too?"

"Yeah. What did you have in mind?"

"My nose."

She'd wanted to do it since she was in college but had never had the courage. So what if she was over thirty and had been told that it would hurt like hell she thought? She needed some other kind of pain, physical rather than emotional, to concentrate on for a while.

"That we can do now. Thirty bucks, includes the jewelry."

"Sounds good."

"Come on back."

He led her to the case to pick out the stud. She chose a small, sparkly stone that he told her would barely be noticeable, if that's what she was looking for, and should be approved by even an uptight boss. She told him that she was her own boss.

They started talking about her book store as he led her back to the chair. He'd said he'd been in a couple of times, but she figured it had to have been since she'd been gone since she was pretty sure she'd have noticed him.

She told him she'd give him a discount next time he came in and hoped that Shandra didn't get her claws into him, since his hand was absent of a wedding ring. Then she figured her cousin could use a decent guy for a change and felt guilty.

It did hurt when he pierced her nose. It brought tears to her eyes, though he made it as quick as possible. When they were finished, she paid him and then took the card he gave her which gave her the appointment time two days from then when she'd come back for the tattoo.

She shook his hand and left the shop, wondering briefly if he was looking at HER ass, but then ended up feeling guilty again.

She got in her car, glancing briefly at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She looked like a different woman almost.

She lit a cigarette, and put the address for the shelter into the GPS, eager to pick out her new companion.

When she got to the shelter, they led her to what seemed like an endless row of cages.

There were kittens and cats of all colors and sizes. She felt another stab of guilt when she thought about how Callie had wanted a dog and they'd never gotten around to getting her one. Then she saw the kitten that she knew would be hers.

It was a calico, just old enough to have been weaned by its mother and it was absolutely beautiful.

She pointed to the kitten and asked the young woman that had come back to help her "Can I have that one?"

"Sure. Let me get her for you."

She brought the tiny bundle out of the cage and placed her in Ali's arms. The cat snuggled into her arms like it was home. She smiled.

"She's a lover. Is she a late Christmas present for a little one?"

Ali shook her head sadly. "No. Just for me."

It had taken all she had to explain to Zach that Callie was gone; she couldn't do it again so soon she thought.

She paid the fee and took the kitten out to her car, stowing her in the carrier that she had bought at the pet store. They drove home together to an empty house.

She set up the litter box and put out a bowl of food and water, setting up the cat toys. When night had fallen and the still nameless kitten had fallen asleep on a corner of the couch, she put on Sam's letterman jacket and went and sat outside, mp3 player in her pocket, headphones in her ears.

She smoked and watched cars go by, wondering when Sam would come back for his things.

Then she'd have nothing that held his scent, nothing to remind her of their union besides memories and the child they had lost. But she thought, she had asked for it, and now she had to deal with it.

She went back inside and made herself a salad with chicken breast for dinner. She read a book on the couch; the kitten snuggled up next to her and smoked too much. When she went to bed, carrying the kitten with her, she still didn't have a name for the little ball of fur.

But it felt good to have a warm body snuggled up next to her on the bed, even if it was a tiny one that purred.

When she got up the next morning, she had her name for the cat. Mandy, is what Callie had said she would name her dog. It seemed fitting to name the kitten Mandy.

So she and Mandy went downstairs and ate their respective breakfasts and started another empty day.

Another night and still no Sam, though there were no divorce papers or moving trucks either which she took as a good sign.

She thought she could forgive him if he'd been with another woman, if only he'd come back to her, if he still loved her like he always had.

But the next day when she was wondering what to do with the kitten while she was at her appointment at the tattoo parlor, Sam still hadn't come home.

It was January sixth, so he'd been gone for twelve days. It was the longest they'd ever been apart in the whole time they'd been married. It hurt. It hurt like hell.

She decided if he came home, she wanted to renew their wedding vows and go on a second honeymoon. Not the cruise that he'd proposed, but maybe driving, stopping whenever they felt like it, seeing whatever sights they hadn't seen or wanted to see again.

Maybe they could make an album and dedicate it to Callie, the places they hadn't gotten the chance to take her. Yeah, she thought, if only she'd get the chance.

She finally decided to leave the kitten to wander, making sure that there was plenty of food and water since Zach had told her that it would most likely take hours for him to complete the tattoo on her back. She locked the house and drove to the strip mall.

Again Zach was the only one in the shop, but this time it was because he'd made the appointment before they normally opened.

She was nervous but Zach put her at ease, chatting about tattoos he had done, and the craziest tattoo in his opinion that someone had asked for. He couldn't finish describing it to her because by the time he was halfway through they were both laughing so hard that she was glad he hadn't started her tattoo yet.

He told her he'd finish telling her about it later and then forgot by the time she left.

He had a sure hand and kept up a steady stream of chatter as he did his work. It seemed to take forever. But when he gently moved her hair and showed her in the mirror, it was all worth it.

He had captured Callie perfectly. Her little girl looked so alive that she dropped tears.

"Is it that bad?" She knew that he was trying to shake her out of her mood.

"No. It's perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." He squeezed her hand.

"Your future wife is a very lucky woman."

He laughed. "Nah, I'll drive her crazy. I'll have a living canvas."

She laughed, then handed him her credit card. The tattoo was expensive, but worth every cent. He was worth the tip she gave him too.

"You don't have to."

She shook her head.

When she was ready to leave, he said "Can I take a picture for the window? If you don't mind."

She shook her head again. "It's fine. You're very talented. We all deal with pain in our own ways, and I know it's helped me start to deal with mine."

The portrait of Callie had three dates beneath it because on impulse she'd asked him to add the date of her and Sam's marriage.

It was a little uncomfortable baring her back for him again; her t-shirt bunched in front of her to cover her breasts. But Zach was a perfect gentleman. She was tempted to give him Shandra's number.

He shook her hand, thanked her again for the tip and told her to let him know if she had any problems with the piercing or the tattoo. He added that her husband was a lucky man as she was on her way out the door.

She turned. "I'm the lucky one."

He gave her a dazzling smile and said that he doubted it. She laughed and gave him a wave as she walked out the door.

Another time, another place Zach, she thought and I probably would have been in bed with you on day one.

She shook her head and drove home expecting a house empty of anyone besides Mandy. She was disappointed but not surprised when she was right.

Days passed. The only contact she had with the outside world was when Shandra called and said that she'd found her replacement. Ali was relieved, but thought maybe she'd check out the woman that Shandra had found herself.

She mentioned Zach and the discount she'd offered him. Shandra said that he'd come in the store the day before, asking about her.

"He looked so disappointed when I said you weren't there. How come I end up with all the losers and weirdoes and you have a great guy at home and an absolute hottie asking about you?"

She wasn't in the mood to discuss Sam's leaving with Shandra so she said "Just lucky I guess."

"Since you're married you wouldn't mind if I took a chance with him right?"

"What about Spike?"

"He's an asshole. I thought I was pregnant. Even though it turned out it was a false alarm, he headed for the hills."

Ali silently said 'thank goodness' and said out-loud "That sucks. Zach's all yours. Just tell me how he is in bed."

Shandra said "Ali, you've gotten a dirty mind in your old age."

To Shandra, though she was only five years away herself, thirty was ancient.

Ali laughed. "It's one of those things a girl's gotta know."

"He looks like he'd be fantastic."

"I know."

She'd had a dream about that very thing the other morning and had woken up; head on Sam's pillow, and felt guilty as hell.

"Well hon, give your husband a kiss for me. I'm going to start my vacation the day after tomorrow. Call me if you need anything okay?"

"Thanks Shan."

They hung up. Ali thought if only I could give him a kiss for myself.

She spent most of the day reading. After the dishes were done she went upstairs and decided to watch a movie. She watched two and then went to bed.

The scent of Sam had now completely faded from the pillow. All she could smell now was the scent of her shampoo and cigarette smoke. That made her cry again, and she hadn't cried in two days.

On the morning of the 11th, which would have been Callie's seventh birthday, she admitted she needed to go to the grocery store.

She felt more alone than she had since she'd lived with her parents on what she figured would be the second hardest day of the year, the first which would be the anniversary of her daughter's death. It took her forever in the store to decide on anything.

When she reached her house and saw Sam's car sitting on the street and him sitting on their front steps with a pet carrier, she was so surprised that she almost took her foot off of the brake too soon and just saved herself from crashing into the garage.

When she took the keys out of the ignition, her hand was shaking.

Sam looked calm, sitting on the steps, like he'd wait forever for her. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, she wanted to make love to him on their front steps, she wanted to tell him that she was sorry for every stupid thing that she'd done and said since Callie's death.

Instead, she walked over to him and just looked at him.

She scanned his face, thinking that there was something that would tell her he'd been with another woman. She couldn't find anything. He was her Sam, her love with his caring eyes and ruggedly handsome face.

"You decided to drive again huh?"

She nodded, looking at the carrier and thinking that he had gone inside and gotten Mandy and brought her outside while he waited. But inside was another small kitten, gray with black stripes.

"I brought you a present." He held it out to her.

She laughed, though it felt inappropriate somehow. "I have one in the house."

"A kitten? I can take him back I guess."

"No, it's fine." She looked for divorce papers sitting beside Sam or sticking out of the pocket inside his coat, but didn't see anything. "Thank you for being here."

"I couldn't leave you alone today babe."

So he felt sorry for her she wondered?

But her heart beat fast as he said "The days apart from you were the worst of my life since we've lost Callie. I can't do it without you Ali. I can't go on living without her; without you too. But you've got to let me help you babe. You can't shut me out. I hurt too."

"Oh baby, I know."

He put the carrier aside and opened his arms. She put her purse down on the bottom step and practically fell into them.

"I am so sorry. I love you so much Sam. I want to renew our vows. I want to go on a second honeymoon. I want to have more of your babies."

"I've missed you so much babe." He ran his hand over her hair. "I like your hair. It suits you."

And then he was kissing her. It was so good, she never wanted it to stop.

"I think we'd better go inside", he said, a few minutes later.

"Why?"

He inclined his head slightly. "We've got an audience."

The teenage boy who lived across the street was standing out in the yard with his girlfriend, laughing. She turned and waved at them. The boy waved back, still laughing.

She took Sam's hand. "I want to show you something."

She unlocked the door and led him into the house. His letterman jacket was still strung over the couch.

"A little nostalgia huh?"

He shut the door and then let the kitten out of the carrier.

"It smells good."

Then she pulled her t-shirt over her head and pulled her hair forward over her shoulder, showing him her back.

"It's beautiful. Does it hurt?"

"Not much anymore. It's been a few days."

"She was so beautiful. You are so beautiful."

He kissed the side of her neck, and then very gently kissed every inch of her tattoo. They made love three times that day, something they hadn't done in years.

He laughed when she told him she'd been sleeping on his pillow and hadn't washed his clothes.

"I missed you," she told him.

After they had both showered, they went downstairs and lit a single candle on a cupcake and both said a small tribute to Callie.

It was a bittersweet day. But when she went to bed that night in her husband's arms, with the warm bodies of the two tiny cats at their feet, she was happier than she'd been in months.

They did renew their vows. Zach was Shandra's date. While he was still as gorgeous as ever, she only had eyes for Sam.

For their second honeymoon, they spent two weeks driving and took pictures of whatever caught their eyes. She put them in an album and titled it 'to the much loved child that we lost and the much loved children we haven't yet met'.

She went back to work six weeks later and kept Shandra on part time. The woman who had stood in for Shandra when she was gone worked out well. Ali kept her on when her longtime employee decided to retire.

She went to the meetings with Sam for parents that had lost children and was finally able to talk about Callie without crying. When the blonde dye started to fade from her hair, she dyed it red. Though she wasn't fond of it herself, her husband thought it looked good.

Shandra married Zach and ended up pregnant with twins.

********************************

12 years later

Their six-year-old son was asleep upstairs. She was sitting on the couch, hands on her swollen belly, giving her husband a dirty look.

"I don't care," she said.

"Ali come on. I understand the way you feel, but it's not like you can make it go away. Unless you want to move. That would really be a waste with all the work we've done to the house."

They'd refinished the basement and added another bedroom and bathroom upstairs.

"How am I supposed to look at him when he stole our child from us?"

Albert Gonzalez was being released from prison, having served out his sentence and would be back in their neighborhood.

His aunt who had been taking care of his children had died two years before. His ex-wife had convinced one of her high school friends to raise the kids.

It astounded Ali that she'd given up on her children. They looked like their father, but even she didn't blame his children for the accident.

"Babe, I miss her too. Every single day. But it's going to be hard enough for him as it is."

"She'd be a grown woman now Sam. In a few years we could be dancing at her wedding, holding our grandchildren."

"I know honey. Believe me, I know. I wish you could forgive him. You've forgiven yourself."

"Are you serious? Forgive the man that killed our child."

He took her hand. "We'll talk about this later. I think you need to go to bed. You look tired."

"Yeah, yeah."

She was tired. Her ankles were swollen and she felt too damned old to be having a baby.

She didn't sleep well that night, but then again, the baby inside her belly was getting big, so she didn't sleep well most nights.

When Albert Gonzalez was released from prison, she refused to leave the house for a week, in case she ran into him. At her next doctor's appointment she was placed on bed rest so she had an excuse not to leave the house.

She went into labor two weeks early. While they waited for Shandra to come to pick up their son, Sam II, she had half an ear to the news that was playing on the radio.

"Wait," she said, when Sam asked if she was having another contraction. "Turn it up."

If she'd heard what she thought she'd just heard, holy shit she thought.

And she had. Albert Gonzalez had been in a traffic accident that afternoon with both of his sons. He was in the hospital in stable condition, but both his sons were gone. A drunk driver.

Of all the things to happen in the world she thought. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Did you hear that Sam?"

A knock came at the door.

Sam opened it. Once their son was with Shandra, and they were heading out the door, he said "Yeah. I heard it."

"Wow. I mean just wow."

She wasn't religious, wasn't sure that she believed in karma, but this was a hell of a coincidence. Damn, she thought and it wasn't from another contraction. She wouldn't have wished this on anyone, even Albert Gonzalez.

Their baby was born that night right before midnight, small but otherwise healthy, a beautiful baby girl. They named her Zanadia Callie.

When they were released from the hospital, they passed Albert Gonzalez on the way out. Sam didn't notice him, but she did.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and she could see the pain in his. To miss your children growing up and then have them taken from you six weeks after you got out of prison she thought?

That must be hell. But could she feel sorry for the man that had taken her child from her?

Could see feel empathy for that man? Yes, they were in the same boat in a way, but was it in her to be able to feel for this man? She looked away from him, and followed her husband towards the door of the hospital. Those were questions she couldn't answer. It dug up all the pain she'd kept tightly controlled to think about them.

"You okay?" Sam said, after he'd strapped their sleeping daughter into the backseat of the car.

She didn't know. She really didn't she thought. She nodded. "Does Shandra know that we're on the way to pick up Sam?"

"Yeah. Zach's bringing him out. She said she doesn't want to look at the baby right now. She's afraid it will make her want another one."

Ali laughed. "Are you kidding me? Is six not enough?"

"Well, if you look at the fact that she only has one girl. . ."

"I know that Lissa was bugging her mom for a while about a sister, but I really don't think that Zach could put up with another kid."

"He's a good guy. Good dad, good stepdad. I personally can't believe he's stuck with her this long."

"Hey, be nice. She's not that bad."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, right."

"If they had another kid, he'd have to get pretty creative when he tattooed the kid's picture on her body."

Zach had gotten himself a living canvas when he'd married Shandra. She had tattoos of her children on both arms, both sides of her back and the backs of both of her legs. Ali, Sam and pretty much everyone they knew thought they were beautiful. Zach was swamped with work.

When they pulled up to Shandra and Zach's house on the edge of town, Zach was outside with all of the kids. She looked for Shandra, but her cousin really was hiding from her.

When she got out of the car and Sam immediately threw himself at his father, she turned to Zach. "She's really serious about not looking at Zanny?"

Zach laughed. "Since Lissa found out you were having a girl she's been bugging her mom about a little sister. Then you've got Shan griping about feeling old and her biological clock ticking." He shrugged, looking at his kids and step kids. "The more the merrier right?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You'd want another one?"

The twins had just turned eleven. She'd been surprised that Shandra hadn't gotten her tubes tied when they'd been born.

"I love kids. Growing up in my family, between my brothers and sisters and all the cousins always being around, it was never quiet. I had so many nieces and nephews and little cousins by the time I met Shan, that it really wasn't much of an adjustment."

Ali thought that Zach had the patience of a saint. He was still as gorgeous as the day she'd met him.

Her son had finally turned his attention to her. "Hi Mom."

"Hey sweetie. Did you peek at your little sister?"

"I wanted a brother."

"I know honey."

"When will I have a brother?"

Probably never, she thought. "You have a lot of cousins that are boys."

"They're all older. I want to be a big brother."

"You are a big brother."

He turned his nose up at her. "To a sister."

She held back a laugh, turning back to Zach since it was about time they headed home. "Do you want to take a peek at Zanny?"

"Of course."

Lissa heard the exchange and followed them to the car.

"She's so tiny," Zach said.

"She's gorgeous," Lissa said. "Where's Mom?"

Ali exchanged a look with Zach. Shandra was about to get hit with another round from her daughter about having a sister.

"In the bedroom," Zach said.

"Okay. Congratulations Aunt Ali."

Her cousin's kids had been calling her Aunt Ali since they could talk at Shandra's insistence.

"Wait," Lissa said, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, a sly smile on her face. "I want to take a picture for Mom."

Zach smiled back at his fourteen-year-old stepdaughter. "Go ahead. It's not like she can avoid it forever."

Lissa laughed. She was a beautiful girl, the youngest of Shandra's kids before she'd met Zach. Ali hated to think what a teenage boy would have to go through when she brought him home to meet her family. Her three big brothers were all very protective of her, not to mention Zach and her little brothers.

Lissa snapped four pictures through the open car door and said "See you later Aunt Ali, Uncle Sam. Bye little man," she said to little Sam, giving them all a wave, skipping back towards the house.

"Teenagers," Zach said, but he was smiling.

"You're a hell of a man to want another one," Sam said.

"Shan's driving herself crazy because in the next four years, four of her babies will have turned eighteen. She thinks she's ancient. I think a baby would be good for her, give her another eighteen years to hold on. She was born to be a mother. I don't know what she's going to do with herself when she doesn't have someone under our roof to mother."

Ali nodded. She hadn't been around Shandra a lot when they were growing up, but what she remembered most about her cousin was that she was always playing house, mothering her dolls, having pretend weddings with anything from a little boy from the neighborhood to her dog.

Three out of her four of her older children's fathers were complete scumbags, but you'd never hear her telling her children that. She'd never kept them from seeing their children, whether the child support payments were up to date or not. She might be flaky sometimes, but she adored every one of her children, no matter how she felt about their fathers.

"Tell her to call me will you?" Ali said.

"Sure."

"Well, I guess we'd better get her home," Sam said.

"Have a nice day guys."

She waved to the boys in the yard, and then to Zach.

"Be good to your little sister Sammy," Zach said.

Sam made a face, but then nodded. He adored Zach. She hadn't seen a child yet, no matter what age, that didn't.

She let Sam strap their son into his booster seat, which he hated, but took with less fuss from his father than he did from her. She sank into the passenger seat, putting on her seatbelt and leaning her head against the headrest.

After giving birth, she usually felt like sleeping for three days straight. While that was impossible in the hospital, Sam was an angel and let her sleep as much as possible after they were at home.

She fell asleep for a few minutes. When she woke up, they were passing the home of Albert Gonzalez.

He was sitting out on the front step, smoking a cigarette, looking lost. He reminded her of herself when Sam had left her for that short time, alone and lost, the most important things in life gone.

She felt a stab of guilt as Sam pulled into their driveway.

He still went to meetings for parents of lost children sometimes, and so did she though not as often, and he wanted her to go to the next one. Would Albert Gonzalez be there she wondered? Could she face him if he was?

She followed her husband into the house. "I'm gonna take a nap okay?"

He nodded. "Go ahead babe."

As she was walking up the stairs, little Sam said "I want to play outside Daddy."

"Not right now. Why don't you find that puzzle you wanted help with so we don't disturb your mom and your sister?"

She couldn't hear her son's response as she shut her bedroom door.

She lay awake in bed for over an hour, looking at the ceiling. When she finally fell asleep, she had a nightmare that she'd told Albert Gonzalez she was glad his children had died, and that he'd deserved it. He'd crashed into their car and killed Sam and both their children, but she again had walked away.

When she woke up, she was bathed in sweat and tears had dried on her cheeks. She rolled over and wondered why she had to deal with this now, when she had a newborn baby to take care of.

She used the bathroom and then walked down the stairs. Sam II was asleep on the couch. Her husband was sitting in the rocking chair, feeding Zanadia a bottle.

"Hi, Mommy."

"Hi Daddy." She leaned down and gave him a kiss. "I think that I'm going to skip the next grief meeting."

"Why?" He raised Zanny to his shoulder and burped her. "Oh. You think that Gonzalez might show up right?"

She shrugged, picking at the blanket on the couch, not looking at him.

"You're going to have to face him sometime."

"So I can say what? Gee, I'm sorry that your kids died? They didn't deserve it, but you did? Hey, why couldn't it have been you?"

"Nice Ali." He shook his head, laying the now sleeping Zanny in her portable bassinet.

"Do you think I want to have a tattoo of my DEAD daughter on my back? Do you think that for a second I wouldn't have traded places with her?"

"I know that Ali. But you inflicting more misery on Albert Gonzalez will never bring Callie back."

"What the hell do you want from me Sam? I've moved on, I'm living and breathing, participating in society, working, functioning as a mother to our living children."

"You're never going to forget her Ali. No one will. But can't you at least forgive?"

"Forgive the man that killed our child? It's not like he stole her and then raped her and killed her, but he took her away from us all the same. No, I'm sorry Sam. I can't forgive that."

"It was a crappy situation Ali. Wrong place, wrong time. It could have been anyone."

"So why the fuck wasn't it? Why was it our daughter? Ah hell, I need a cigarette."

"Ali."

"Do you think I'm going to get addicted by smoking one damn cigarette? I can't discuss this with you right now Sam. You can make your peace with Albert Gonzalez. I'll deal with it my own way."

"So it can eat you up inside, so you can turn into the shell that you were after Callie died and not be there for Sam and Zanny?"

"I'll be back Sam," she muttered.

She went upstairs, and dug around in the back of the closet for the shoebox that held the half pack of cigarettes she'd stashed there when she'd quit. Once she'd found them, she pulled them out and shoved the pack and the lighter into her pocket.

Once she was back downstairs she said "I'm going for a walk."

"Ali please."

"I'll be back Sam. I'm not going to just walk away."

He sighed. "Fine. Blow off steam, and smoke one of your damned cancer sticks. What do you want to do for dinner?"

"Order a pizza. Order from that Chinese place Sam likes. I don't care. I'm not hungry."

"Babe."

"What?"

"Never mind."

Without looking at him, she went out the front door. She lit a cigarette, drawing deeply and then coughing like hell. The second drag went down smoother.

She strode down the street, no real destination in mind, looking at the ground, pissed off, depressed and hurt all at the same time.

When she looked up, she realized she was across the street from Albert's house.

Shit, she thought. Before she could turn around he called out to her.

"Mrs. Carter. Can you come here please?"

She closed her eyes briefly, wishing she were anywhere else. She looked at him and sighed, then walked slowly across the street.

He stood up, lighting a cigarette with a shaky hand. "I've wanted to tell you for a long time how sorry I am. She was such a good girl. Not like the other kids we'd meet at the park. Running around, not paying attention when they knocked a smaller kid down. She was the one who'd always stop to help them up."

He looked lost in a daydream. She lit another cigarette, not looking at him.

"I always wished it would have been me. But that's not how it happens. The drunk is always the one who walks away from the accident. It's always the other person or people that get hurt."

He shook his head. "They had me on suicide watch when I was in prison for almost a year. I couldn't stand to look at myself in the mirror. Everything went to hell. My wife left me; she didn't even take the boys. What did they do to deserve any of this? Aunt Nora was good to them, but it never left them that their mother couldn't stand to look at them. But at least Nora made sure that they knew that the child shouldn't have to pay for the sins of the father. Alex went through hell when he started school. The kids teased him, said terrible things. She said he came home crying every other day. Called him the son of a baby killer. By the time Noah went to school, Alex had fought with all the boys so much that they knew better than to mess with Noah. He was in a special school for a while, for troubled kids. My son wanted to be a doctor when he grew up. He worked so hard in school, if he kept it up, he could have gotten a scholarship. Noah, he wanted to be a writer. And he was good too. He poured all the pain into those stories that he wrote. I wonder," he said, lighting a fresh cigarette off of the butt of the last one. "If I deserve this. And maybe I do. I took the life of your child, a wonderful, caring child who maybe could have changed the world. We'll never know though. It's terrible, not knowing. I would have traded places with her if I could have Mrs. Carter; you've got to believe me. I would have done it for my boys too."

Ali cleared her throat. "I would have traded places with her too."

He sighed. "I thought that when my sentence was finished, my time served, I could have a chance to make it better. Watch my boys finish growing up, maybe get to be a grandpa someday. I deserve this. But they didn't. My boys never did anything but be born to the wrong parents."

She could see the pain on his face. She had felt that pain, felt her world crumble around her.

Wondered time and time again why she was walking the earth when her child was in a hole in the ground.

"Parents should never outlive their children."

It brought it all back, just being around him. The pain was so fresh; it felt like she had lost Callie 12 days ago instead of twelve years.

"I can't ask you to forgive me Mrs. Carter. I will never forgive myself. But will you please come to the funeral for my boys? I don't know how people are going to react. Will they stay away because they hate me or will they honor my boys for the men that they could have been?"

She hadn't thought about people being so terrible as to not come to the funeral for his sons.

When she'd seen the boys, they'd always been together, first with their great aunt of course, but then later, after they were older, just the two of them. She couldn't speak suddenly, just nodded.

"Thank you Mrs. Carter. I still remember when you took care of them that night when I had to go into work, before everything went to hell. My Alex had such a crush on your Callie, as much as any kid can at that age I guess."

"I have to go."

She couldn't stand to look at him anymore. She was remembering how Alex had followed Callie around when they'd meet at the park, how his mother teased him. He was so shy, hardly said a word.

"I understand Mrs. Carter." Albert Gonzalez nodded to himself and then went back to sit on his steps.

She lit another cigarette, practically jogging across the street.

She had to get away. She was pondering what could have been for her daughter and his son, if only it hadn't all gone so wrong.

By the time she reached home, she was crying. She sat on the front stoop until she'd calmed down, and then took a deep breath and let it out as she went inside.

Her son gave her a bright smile. "Hi Mom. Dad ordered some food for us."

There was a knock on the door then and she didn't get a chance to say anything to her husband. He gave her a concerned look as he passed to the door, giving her a brief pat on the shoulder.

She hadn't realized she'd been gone anywhere near long enough for them to have ordered food and have it delivered.

"C'mon Mom," Sam said, grabbing her hand. "Let's eat."

She followed her son to the kitchen, slumping into her chair. She didn't know if she could make herself swallow the food that her husband placed in front of her.

She tried to eat as her son chattered to his father. She didn't hear a word they said. She was too busy feeling guilty.

Was it her fault if no one came to the funeral for the Gonzalez boys she wondered? Albert Gonzalez was right. Children should not have to suffer for the things that their parents had done.

Zanny woke up crying. When Sam started to get up she said "I'll get her."

She picked her daughter up, cuddling her for a moment. Her cries quieted. Ali murmured "I love you baby girl."

She changed her daughter's diaper and then sat down to feed her the bottle that Sam handed her. She felt guilty about giving Zanny formula when she'd breastfed both Callie and little Sam, but they'd agreed it was the best option this time.

Rocking in the chair with her newborn daughter, listening with half an ear to her son and husband playing a board game, she wondered what Albert Gonzalez was doing.

Was he still sitting on his front steps, half expecting his boys to come home, but knowing deep down that they never would? She'd heard the sound of Callie's laughter for months after her daughter was gone. Could have sworn that she could smell the sweet scent of her daughter's shampoo.

At least she'd had Sam, who put up with crap that no man in his right mind should have put up with.

Albert Gonzalez was truly alone. His wife had left long ago and his great aunt was gone. The friend of his ex-wife's that had been taking care of the boys skipped town as soon as he was released from prison. Those poor boys, how they must have felt she thought.

Their mother had abandoned them; their father was in prison for killing a little girl that Alex had had a child's crush on. It would feel disloyal to Callie to forgive him, but she couldn't let his sons suffer in death as they had in life.

Zanny was sleeping again and Sam had taken little Sam upstairs for his bath, so she reluctantly lay her daughter in the bassinet. She didn't want to let go.

Sometimes she knew she tried to hold onto little Sam too tight, but she couldn't imagine what she'd do if she lost him. And their beautiful daughter, who looked just like Callie had when she was a baby, how was she going to go through the ongoing process of letting go that every parent faces?

She had an appointment with Zach in a couple weeks to add a picture of little Sam to her back. He'd do Zanny's portrait when she was six as well.

Sam had teased her about the whole six-six-six thing but it felt right to her to immortalize all of her children at the age Callie had been.

She felt old suddenly. She should be the mother of a teenage daughter. Sighing, she dug her cell phone out of her purse and texted Shandra. 'Are you going to the funeral?'

Shandra said back 'For the Gonzalez boys? Yeah, my kids went to school with them. Lissa had a thing for Noah. Is Sam trying to make you go?'

'He hasn't mentioned it. Albert Gonzalez asked me to go.'

'Holy crap girl when did you talk to him? I thought you couldn't stand the sight of him.'

'Long story hon. I have to go. He mentioned how Alex had had a crush on Callie. I didn't remember until now. I guess I blocked it out.'

'I remember. He used to follow her around at the park. It was so cute. The whole thing is so sad.'

'I know. Those boys went through enough. Have you heard anything about donations for the service? I don't know how he's going to pay for it.'

'There were some things around town asking for donations. I think it's been pretty dismal though. People are terrible, talking shit about how he can use their college funds to bury them.'

'Pretty poor taste. Where are those donation boxes or whatever?'

'You're going to help him pay for it aren't you?'

'Shan, just tell me where they are please.'

'I have to tell Zach. He's always telling me how soft hearted you are. I tell him, nah you're just a bitch like me.'

'Ha ha, Shandra. Where are they?'

'The usual places, grocery stores, couple restaurants.'

'Thank you. Did Lissa show you the pictures of Zanny?'

'Yes, the little brat did. She's gorgeous Ali. Looks a lot like Callie.'

'Believe me, I've noticed. I looked at the picture Sam had the nurse take when we were in the hospital. If you don't notice the gray hairs popping up, ugh, it looks like the one they took when we had Callie.'

'I took that picture remember?'

'Oh yeah. Did Zach talk you into having another baby?'

'Funny that he's the one trying to talk me into it. I'm thinking about it. The kids are growing up way too fast.'

'I know. When are you going to come see Zanny?'

'Probably over the weekend. I gotta go. The twins are fighting in the living room. Zach had to go to the shop to give some celeb a tattoo.'

'Wow. Who is it?'

'He won't tell me. Supposed to be top secret. Big bucks though. He said he's not going to charge you for yours.'

'Oh yes he is. Or he's going to get a really big tip that covers the cost.'

'He probably won't take it. You're family.'

'Then I'll give it to you.'

'Sounds good to me. Goodnight hon. Give your babies a kiss for me. I love you.'

'Love you too Shan.'

She shut her phone and plugged it into the charger. She stretched, then reached gently into the bassinet and picked Zanny up. The baby stirred and then went back to sleep.

Sam was in little Sam's room. They were reading a story together. She laid Zanny in her crib and then went down the hall to her room. She'd tell little Sam goodnight when they were done with their story. No one intruded on their story time.

Sam came in a few minutes later. "He's ready for his Mommy goodnight."

She kissed her husband. "He's going to be too big for it soon isn't it?"

"Probably."

Her son was ticklish, so they had a tickle fight at bedtime every night. When she went to his room, he was sitting up in bed, playing with a toy car.

"Hey little man."

"Hey Mom."

"What did you read to Dad tonight?"

"The little sister book."

They'd bought the book for him when they'd found out they were having a girl. He hadn't wanted to read it before then. He didn't even want to talk about having a little sister. She hid a smile.

"Was it a good book?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

"Sisters can be okay too."

"I don't like Dad's sister."

Yeah, neither did she, she thought.

"Aunt Shandra's the closest thing that I have to a sister. You like her, don't you?"

"Yeah. But what do you do with a little sister? They can't play cars, or football or anything."

"Girls can play cars. Girls can play football."

"Not very good."

He made a face, probably thinking of the times she'd tried to throw a ball with him.

He had a hell of an arm, which his dad was forever bragging about. He told her she threw like a girl.

"She'll be able to do other things you like. And maybe Zanny will throw a ball better than Mom, huh? You can teach her to read, and draw, and ride a bike."

"She's just a baby."

"She'll grow up. Look how fast you're growing."

She reached out to tickle him and they were soon in the middle of their tickle fight. She won, but just barely. He was still giggling when she leaned down and gave him a kiss.

"Goodnight Sam. I love you."

"Love you too Mom."

As she reached the door, he said "You can turn the night light off, but leave the door open just a little bit okay? I'm a big brother now."

She smiled, switching off the night light and leaving the door open a crack. Sam was reading a book when she got to their room, but he put it aside.

"You okay? It looked like you'd been crying when you came home."

"I'll tell you about it later. I'm tired."

She lifted her head from where she'd laid it on his chest to look at him. "Can you watch the kids for a little while tomorrow morning?"

He was on vacation for another three weeks from work. "Sure. What's up?"

"I'll explain later."

He might not be too thrilled at the amount she was going to withdraw from their bank account, but she thought he'd understand.

"Okay. Goodnight babe. I love you."

"Love you too Sam."

He turned out the light. She was asleep within minutes.

She woke up twice during the night, and he wasn't in bed. He was taking care of Zanny and letting her sleep. She was definitely a lucky woman.

The next morning when she woke up, she could hear her husband and kids downstairs. Sam wanted to go outside, or when his father said not right now, watch cartoons. They agreed on an educational video. She took a quick shower and then went downstairs.

"Mornin' Mom," little Sam said, his mouth full of cereal.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," she said in unison with her husband.

"Yes Mom. Yes Dad." Sam said, rolling his eyes and returning his attention to the TV.

"Good morning, favorite son of mine," she said, dropping a kiss onto the top of his head.

"I'm your only son."

"So then it's okay for you to be my favorite son right?"

He rolled his eyes again.

She went to the kitchen. Sam was making eggs. Zanny was sleeping in the bassinet.

"You hungry?"

"Not really."

Glancing at the clock on the microwave and seeing that it was after 9, she said "Did everybody sleep in today?"

"The big one did. The little one didn't. Every two or three hours she was up."

"I'll let you take a nap when I get back okay?"

He nodded. "You sure you don't want something to eat?"

"I'm fine. I won't be gone long."

She gave her husband a kiss, which had embarrassed their son since he'd turned five.

"Where you goin' Mom?"

"Just doing boring Mommy stuff hon."

"Will you bring me something back?"

She laughed. "Like what?"

"I don't know- something."

She thought of getting him a shirt that said 'I'm the big brother' but it would probably make him mad.

She'd pick him up a book or a car or something at the store. He wasn't spoiled-well not most of the time anyway.

"Be good for Daddy."

Her son nodded, eyes fixed on the TV.

She started her car, lighting a cigarette. She wouldn't smoke around her kids. She promised herself when the pack was gone there would be no more.

There was a part of her that couldn't believe she was doing this, but another part that felt like she had to. The money she planned to donate to Albert Gonzalez to help pay for his sons' funeral wasn't a small amount, but it wouldn't put them in the poorhouse or even luckily make a huge dent in their savings.

It had been money that she'd set aside to do some improvements to the bookstore, but it could wait.

She pulled up to the bank and taking a deep breath, went inside.

When it was her turn, the teller, a young woman who came into the bookstore quite often for romance novels, said "Good morning Mrs. Carter. How are you? I heard you had the baby. I bet she's adorable."

She pulled out her phone and showed Cassie a picture.

"She's gorgeous."

"Thank you. Shandra said she's holding a copy of that new book for you. How have you been Cassie? How's Peter?"

Peter was Cassie's two-year-old son.

"Getting into everything like usual. But his dad is making an effort to see him now, so it's been better."

"That's good hon."

"It is. How can I help you?"

"I need to withdraw $25,000 from my account please."

"Going on vacation?"

It was July so there was still time before Sam went back to school, but they'd decided to stay home this year.

"I wish. Can I get that in a cashier's check?"

"Sure. What's your account number?"

Ali told her. The efficient Cassie had the check in her hand within a couple of minutes.

"Thanks Cassie. Shan's got that book you were looking for for Peter too, so you can pick it up anytime."

"Thanks. She's such a sweetheart."

"Don't let her hear you say that."

Cassie laughed. "Have a nice day."

"You too."

Ali walked out the doors of the bank. When she got into her car, she couldn't bring herself to start it.

She suddenly wanted to cry. Would Callie forgive her for doing this she wondered?

"I'm sorry baby," she said.

But her daughter's voice spoke up in her mind, so clear that she almost turned around to look in the backseat for her lost child. 'It's the right thing, Mom.' her daughter's voice told her.

She started the car and drove to the nearest grocery store. When she walked by the check stand, she saw a plastic box, that was empty save for a little change, from the church asking for donations for the Gonzalez funeral. Heart beating fast, she folded the check and shoved it into the box, hurrying away to the toy aisle to find something for little Sam.

She bought him three toy cars and a book, and then after stopping for milk and orange juice, went to the check stand. The bored girl behind the counter took forever checking her out. Her stomach was rumbling by the time she got to the car.

She smoked her last cigarette on the way home, driving with all the windows down so her car wouldn't smell.

When she got home, Sam was feeding Zanny and little Sam was sitting on the floor at his feet. She handed the toys to her son and then went to the kitchen to put the groceries away.

"I made you an omelet," Sam said. "It's in the fridge."

"Thanks hon."

"Thanks for the stuff Mom."

"You're welcome."

"Dad says maybe I can feed Zanny when she gets bigger."

"That's great honey."

After she had eaten, she sent her husband upstairs for a nap and took their son outside. Zanny was asleep, so she moved the bassinet closer to the door and left the front door open.

They played Frisbee and catch until one of his friends from the neighborhood came by and asked if he could come over. She said yes, and that his dad or she would be by to pick him up in a couple of hours. Sam nodded and ran off with his friend.

When Sam woke up, they fed and changed Zanny. They put her in her stroller for her first walk around the neighborhood.

It was a normal day, a good day. She had a wonderful husband, two wonderful children and could almost pretend that she hadn't made a donation for the funeral of the sons of the man that had killed her oldest child.

She told Sam that night when they were lying in bed. He told her he understood and then just held her.

The funeral was held three days later. Ali was relieved to see that the church was packed.

Adults, teenagers, even elderly people who had been friends with Albert's aunt.

She sat in the back with Sam, the kids and Shandra, Zach and their children.

She'd debated on bringing the kids, but there wasn't really anyone they could leave them with. Sabrina was definitely out and Sam's mother had died the year before.

Her parents had divorced two years before, but she didn't talk to either of them much, other than sending the occasional picture of the kids or update. No one seemed to mind.

They left soon after the procession went to the cemetery. Little Sam was bored stiff and Zanny was getting fussy. She couldn't bring herself to speak to Albert Gonzalez, nor even look at him, as she walked away with her family, Zanny in a baby carrier strapped to her chest, and little Sam between them, holding onto her hand on one side and his father's on the other, something he would all too soon be too big to want to do.

A week after the funeral, when she was sitting in the living room with Zanny while her two Sams played in the yard with little Sam's friend Jake from down the block, she got a text from Shandra, saying she was pregnant. She was typing out her congratulations when Sam walked in and handed her a letter.

She looked up. "What's this?"

"I don't know. It's local, addressed to only you, so I didn't open it."

He kissed her briefly and then went back outside with the boys.

There was no return address. She opened it and a picture fell out. Her eyes immediately started stinging.

Callie's last Halloween. The party at the local community center. Almost as if it had been planned, though it wasn't; Callie was dressed as a princess and little Alex was dressed as a prince. Callie's wide grin, Alex's shy one. The whole world in front of them. Now they were both gone.

There was a brief note from Albert Gonzalez that said 'I can never thank you and your family enough. I will always be sorry for what I have done and never will a day go by when I won't wish that I could take it back. To what could have been and a future where we never forget the good memories of the past. Albert Gonzalez'

She laid the letter aside, brushing the tears from her cheeks. She kissed her daughter's face in the picture and said softly "I love you Callie girl. Help me watch over your sister and brother huh baby girl?"

And life went on.

My Life for You

She was sitting on her front steps, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette when he suddenly appeared. He was good looking in a boring sort of way. Not that she cared. Lacy Stinson hadn't cared about much of anything for the last two months.

"Mrs. Stinson?"

He paused, still standing outside the gate.

She didn't move. "Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

She almost laughed. The old Lacy might have. It wasn't as if the gate was locked.

It opened with a simple latch. A latch that a six-year-old could open. The latch that her daughter had opened when Lacy had turned her back to answer the phone. The day her daughter had lost her life when she'd been hit by a car after she'd chased her ball into the street.

"I'm not very good company. Even my husband doesn't think I am anymore."

He paused with his hand on the latch. "How is Dawson taking your Azai's death?"

She put out her cigarette underneath her foot and dug another out of her coat pocket.

"Are you a friend of Dawson's?"

"No, I'm not Elacia."

She choked on the first drag of her cigarette. No one called her Elacia. She despised her full name and few people knew her first name wasn't just Lacy. She got to her feet.

"Who are you?"

"Calm down Lacy. I just want to talk to you."

She was angry suddenly. All kinds of people had wanted to talk to her when Azai had died. People she'd never talked to before had told her that talking and letting her feelings out were going to be the only way she survived. The only thing was that she didn't care if she survived. A part of her had died with her child.

"I'm not much interested in talking."

"Can we go in the house Lacy? This isn't something I feel comfortable bringing up in the front yard."

She looked around. No one was in sight. Dawson was at work. Dawson was always at work the past two weeks.

The fact that she needed a refill on her coffee was what made up her mind. She sighed and said "Come on."

Two months ago she wouldn't have let a stranger into her house. Now Lacy got up and let him follow her into the house.

He stood in the living room while she went to the kitchen and refilled her glass, splashing a liberal amount of creamer and three teaspoons of sugar in before she stirred it slowly with a spoon. At least it wasn't the booze that she'd been adding most mornings she thought.

He was still standing when she walked back into the living room. She put her glass down on the table beside the chair, not bothering with a coaster. She lit a cigarette, thinking absentmindedly that she needed to dump the ashtray.

As the stranger still stood she looked up at him and said "Sit down."

He perched on the edge of the couch. They sat silently for several minutes before he said "Elacia."

Not bothering to look at him, she said "What?"

"I know how hard it has been for you since Azai passed. I know how you've wished over and over that it had been you. I'm here to give you a choice. It may not be an easy choice, but I'm giving it to you all the same."

"Who are you?"

He smiled. It was a nice smile if you didn't notice that it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Does it matter?"

She did laugh then. "Yes it matters. You showed up on my door step offering me some mysterious choice. You know what? Get out. Just get the hell out of my house."

"Are you sure?"

His voice was soft, but again, like his eyes, it was as if he was holding something back.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I be sure?"

His face softened then. "I think it would be in your best interest to listen to what I have to say Elacia."

She was angry again. Dawson said that her emotions were on a teeter totter since they had lost Azai.

"What's in my best interest is for my baby not to be in a hole in the ground."

"I can give you that. It just may be at a higher price than you're willing to pay."

Lacy wanted to throw something at him.

"Have you ever lost a child? There isn't too high a price to pay to bring your child back."

"Then listen to what I have to say Lacy. Please."

"What's your name?"

"Xavier. I can give Azai her life back. But it comes at the price of your life Lacy. You begged, you pleaded, and you wished when your daughter was dying in your arms that a God you don't believe in would take you instead. Are you willing to make that choice Elacia Rae Stinson?"

"My daughter is dead. Nothing can change that. You're crazy Xavier. Now go away and leave me to my misery."

Xavier smiled. It still didn't reach his eyes.

"As you wish. I have given you your choice. If you choose for me to walk away, then I shall."

He was halfway to the door, when she said "Wait."

He turned. "Yes?"

"What do you mean you can bring my daughter back? She's been gone two months."

"Details are not important Elacia. If you make the choice to give your life in place of your daughter's then she shall live and you shall not. That's all that matters."

"But. . ." She had so many questions that she couldn't put into words. "Am I selling my soul to the devil? Are you going to bring out some contract made out of human skin that I have to sign in blood?"

Xavier laughed. Unlike his smile, it was beautiful. "If you don't believe in God why would you believe in the devil?"

"It's hard to believe in God when your six-year-old daughter is dying in your arms."

A single tear dropped down her cheek.

"I know Lacy. I have to leave soon. I need an answer."

She bit her lip. His proposal couldn't possibly be true so what did it matter if she said yes she thought?

"What would I have to do?"

"Nothing other than say yes. Yes, you want to take Azai's place in death."

"I . . ." She took a deep breath. "Will she be okay? I mean normal and everything."

He laughed again. "I think you've watched too many horror movies Elacia."

She reached for a cigarette. Her hand was shaking. "You promise that my baby will be okay?"

"Yes."

"And I don't have to sign anything or pledge anything or. . . You know what? I don't care."

Lacy lit the cigarette.

"Yes, Xavier. I choose to give my life in place of my daughter's."

Xavier reached over and took the cigarette from her hand before she realized he was beside her.

He put the cigarette out and leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Azai is blessed to have you as a mother. Goodbye Elacia."

And then he was gone. She blacked out soon after. When she came back to herself, she was sitting on the front steps again. Tears flooded her eyes when she saw Azai two feet away playing with her ball.

When her phone rang, she reflexively turned to it, but her head snapped back up when she heard the creak of the front gate.

Everything seemed to happen at once. Azai stepped out of the gate. The blue car that had killed her daughter came roaring down the street, driving too fast. She was on her feet, yelling at her daughter to stop. Azai turned and looked at her. But she was still in the street and the car was still coming.

Lacy felt like she was running for her life when she rushed out the gate, and pushed her daughter out of the way. She fell then, and blacked out again.

When she came to several minutes later, she could hear Azai crying. A man was looking down at her, a worried expression on his face. Another man was weeping. The man that had taken her daughter's life. She swallowed. Her daughter was fine. Azai would live. She tried to sit up, but everything hurt.

There was a pool of blood on the ground. Her blood.

"Ma'am, can you hear me?"

She nodded. There was so much she wanted to say, but she couldn't get the words out.

"What's your name?"

She looked up at him. He was unfamiliar, either from out of the neighborhood, or new to it. She turned her head again and saw her daughter. Azai was in the arms of their next door neighbor Mrs. Harrison, fighting the woman to get to her mother. She was wailing.

She had to swallow again. It felt like something was stuck in her throat. She could hear the roaring siren of an ambulance. The ambulance she had cursed because it hadn't gotten there fast enough to save her daughter.

"Lacy Stinson."

She heard Azai cry out. "Mommy."

She shut her eyes. The man squeezed her hand. "Hold on. They're almost here. Your daughter needs you."

But the ambulance was too late. She died with a stranger holding her hand and without being able to tell Azai how much she loved her.

Before she knew it, she was back in the house.

Dawson was sitting in the arm chair, drinking from an open bottle of whiskey. She sighed but no sound left her lips.

Dawson never drank. He came from a family of alcoholics, and had always told her he didn't want to tempt fate. A cigarette was burning in an ashtray. Her brand of cigarettes. The brand that she had taken up again after Azai had died. Except Azai wasn't dead. Lacy was.

Azai was asleep on the couch, covered with the baby blanket she had given up three years before. It was torn and there were stains that Lacy had never been able to get out.

Her daughter's hair was tangled and her face was tear streaked. Her breathing was noisy.

Lacy reached out to smooth her daughter's hair. Azai shifted in her sleep and murmured a single word. "Mommy."

Dawson took another drink from the bottle, picking up a cigarette and lighting it off the butt that was still burning. He took a deep drag, not seeming to notice that Azai had cried out in her sleep.

Lacy leaned down and whispered into Azai's ear. "Mommy loves you baby."

Almost immediately, Azai sat up on the couch, rubbing her eyes. "Daddy," she said.

Dawson didn't look at her. He took another drag off of the cigarette, and then placed it in the ashtray while he gulped down another swig from the bottle.

"Daddy," Azai said again, louder this time. When he still didn't answer, she got up and pulled at her father's sleeve. "Daddy where's Mommy?"

Dawson finally turned to their daughter. "Mommy's gone baby. I told you that."

"But I heard her Daddy. Mommy told me that she loved me. In my ear. Where is she?"

Dawson rubbed his eyes. They were blood shot. Lacy wondered how much time had passed since she'd been gone. It was still strange for her to believe that she was gone instead of Azai.

"I want to see her Daddy."

"You can't see your mother." He was suddenly angry. "You were there when they put her in the ground."

She couldn't believe he was talking to Azai like that. When Lacy tried to reach out and smack her husband, he didn't flinch. He couldn't feel her.

He sat there when Azai ran up the stairs. She was really crying now. Dawson drained the last of the bottle as she followed their daughter up the stairs.

The door was shut tight, but she found that she could pass right through it. Azai was curled up on her bed, sobbing with her face buried in the huge teddy bear that Lacy had bought her for Valentine's Day.

Lacy sat on the edge of the bed. "Baby."

Azai continued to sob.

Lacy tried again. "Zai? Daddy didn't mean it. Daddy's just sad. Mommy is here baby. Mommy will always be here to watch over you."

But then she had to ask herself if she would be. Xavier hadn't said anything about how long she'd be able to watch over her family.

Azai's sobs quieted within a few minutes. Lacy smoothed her daughter's hair. It looked like it hadn't been brushed. Azai had her dad's thick hair that was prone to tangles.

She wondered if Dawson had been helping her brush it. Lacy had always had to help her brush it.

"Zai. Mommy loves you. I'm sorry I had to leave you baby."

Azai let out a quiet sigh in her sleep. "I miss you Mommy."

"I know baby. Mommy misses you too."

She brushed a kiss against her daughter's cheek and left the room. Downstairs, Dawson was passed out in the chair. Her husband looked like crap. His shirt was stained and his hair looked greasy. She wondered when he'd last showered. She reached out and ran her hand over his face. He stirred in his sleep and let out a quiet moan. His eyes fluttered but stayed closed.

"Dawson." He didn't move. "Dawson."

Still nothing. Why did it seem as if her daughter could hear her, at least when she was asleep, but her husband couldn't she wondered? He seemed so lost and alone. She wanted to tell him that he had to take care of Azai, that their daughter needed him more than ever now. But how could she get through to him? He had to snap out of it. Like he'd tried to tell her when Azai had died instead of her.

She sat on the edge of the chair, looking at her sleeping husband. She loved him so much. Loved him more than she thought was possible until she'd had Azai. Then her love had reached a whole new level. She couldn't let her family break because of the choice she'd made.

When Azai had been gone, she'd thought over and over again that Dawson and Azai could survive without her, so much better than she had survived without Azai. But was she wrong she wondered?

Her strong husband was in trouble. She wondered if he'd drunk the whole bottle of whiskey in one day. The ashtray was overflowing. Ashes had spilled over onto the table.

She looked at the calendar on the wall, the one that Azai had always crossed out the days on, but it didn't give her any indication of what day it was. The day first Azai then she had passed was May 22nd, but there were no days crossed out on the calendar after the 21st.

Lacy drifted in and out after that. Azai slowly seemed to be healing, while Dawson seemed to be cracking further.

She could still talk to Azai in her sleep, and it seemed to be helping her little girl. She was going back to being the happy, normal little girl that she had been. She sometimes still cried herself to sleep at night, but it seemed to be as much over her father as her mother.

Dawson had stopped leaving the house. He had groceries delivered. When school was in session, Azai took the bus. Any other activities she went to, a friend's mother or a neighbor took her.

He had stopped shaving, and had lost weight. While he made regular meals for Azai, he rarely seemed to eat himself and had managed to get both his cigarettes and liquor delivered. Lacy supposed she should be glad with as much as he was drinking that he didn't go out, let alone try to take their daughter anywhere.

She wasn't sure whether he had lost his job or quit but she was glad that she had had a good life insurance policy. She wasn't sure how he would pay the bills otherwise.

Lacy ached to be able to tell him she was still there, but he wouldn't or couldn't hear her. Azai had tried telling him early on, even after the first night, but he wouldn't listen, so she stopped trying.

He rarely went in their bedroom, at least when she was around. He slept in the chair or on the couch or more accurately passed out most nights. The worst nights were when he cried out in his sleep. Sometimes he cried. She had never seen her husband cry.

It broke her heart. On those nights, she would try harder to talk to him. She would curl up in his lap on the chair or next to him on the couch. But no matter what she did, Dawson didn't acknowledge her.

And he only grew worse as time passed. It was a few days before Christmas when Lacy decided she couldn't take it anymore. When Azai came in from school, Dawson was on the phone.

Lacy was trying to listen to her daughter and her husband at the same time when it finally dawned on her what Dawson was saying.

Dawson was talking to someone about taking custody of Azai. Permanently. He was going to give their daughter away she thought. If she could have thrown something at him, Lacy would have.

He seemed frustrated when he hung up the phone. He'd told whoever was on the other end of the line that he would call them back.

By that time, Azai had been trying to get his attention for at least five minutes.

She was trying to show him what she had gotten in the gift exchange at school. Lacy looked around.

There was no Christmas tree, no decorations, and no presents. Azai loved Christmas.

She'd worked hours since she was in preschool to make gifts for family, friends and neighbors. Lacy couldn't believe Dawson was doing this.

"Dad. Look what I got at school."

Dawson reached for a cigarette, not looking at the book that Azai held in her hand. "That's nice honey."

Azai sighed. "You didn't even look Dad. Are we going to visit Grandma?"

Grandma would be Lacy's Mom. Dawson's mother had died before Azai was born.

"I don't know kiddo. Do you want pizza for dinner or Chinese?"

"Neither. You said you were going to start cooking again."

"I'm busy Azai. Go put your stuff in your room and change your clothes. Then you can come back down and help me pick out something for dinner."

"You said we could go look for a tree tonight."

"I don't think so honey. The tree was your mom's thing."

"You promised Dad."

"I did no such thing. Now do as you're told."

There were tears falling down her face as Azai headed to the stairs. Lacy was torn between following her daughter and trying to get through to her husband. She looked at Dawson.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking whiskey.

"Dawson." He turned his head as if he heard her so she tried again. "Babe what do you think you're doing?"

He was either ignoring her or he hadn't really heard her at all she thought. The rest of the evening was frustrating.

Azai was disappointed because they weren't going to pick out a tree. After dinner, she went upstairs and shut herself in her room. She fell asleep soon after. Lacy reassured her that she loved her and wouldn't leave her. It seemed to calm her down, so Lacy headed back downstairs.

Dawson was sitting in the arm chair, smoking and drinking. The phone rang, but he chose to ignore it.

He'd argued with someone during dinner, but all Lacy got from his side of the conversation was that whoever he wanted to give custody of Azai to, didn't seem to want it.

Lacy sat on the arm of the chair until he passed out. She wondered when the last time was that he had fallen asleep without the aid of alcohol and couldn't remember a time, at least when she'd seen him. She didn't know where she went or what happened when she wasn't with her family.

She just wasn't there.

She moved from the arm of the chair and settled herself in Dawson's lap. "Dawson."

Nothing. She had to convince him to snap out of it. She had to convince him that he could raise their daughter by himself. Azai had already lost her mother; she didn't need to lose her father, too.

"Dawson baby, listen to me. You can't give up on our daughter. I know it hurts babe. I miss you too."

He stirred in his sleep. If she'd been alive, he'd probably have dumped her off his lap.

She shifted her position and brushed a kiss against his forehead. "I love you."

Suddenly she was gone again. But this time she was in an unfamiliar place. It was dark. She looked around and realized she was in a cemetery. Dawson was kneeling in front of a grave with a bouquet of red roses. The red of the roses was the only color in sight. She wondered for a moment if he had left Azai alone at home while he visited her grave, but then realized she was in her husband's dream.

She walked up behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked at her. He looked confused for a moment, and looked back and forth between the headstone and her.

Then he said "Lacy?"

"Yes."

"How are you here? You left us."

"I'm here Dawson. Azai has been trying to tell you. I've been trying to tell you. I didn't want to leave you. I can't explain it babe. You wouldn't understand."

"I don't understand. I can't live without you."

She reached out and touched his face. "Yes you can Dawson. You have to. Our daughter needs you."

"I can't do it Lacy. She looks just like you. It hurts to look at our daughter. I miss you so much."

"Azai lost her mom, she can't lose you too. Please Dawson. I love you too baby. I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you. But you can't let Zai down. Who were you talking to on the phone about taking custody?"

He blinked and ran a hand through his hair. "How do you know about that?"

"I'm there when I can be. I can talk to Azai when she's asleep, just not you; until now. You don't seem to know I'm there. Who did you ask to raise our daughter Dawson?"

He turned away from her. "Florence."

"Are you kidding me?"

Florence was his brother's ex-wife. She couldn't take care of her own kids, let alone another child.

"No. Your mom won't talk to me anymore. She threatened to call Child Protective Services if I don't stop drinking."

Lacy went back to his side and laid a hand on his back. She could feel him in his dream in ways that she couldn't feel him otherwise. It was almost as if she was alive again.

"Then stop drinking. Go back to work. Take care of our daughter."

"I can't go back to work. They fired me when I came in drunk the day after your funeral."

"Find another job. Take those classes you always wanted to. Sell the house and move to Nebraska. Do whatever will make you happy and will make a good life for you and Zai."

"I can't be happy without you Lacy. I'm so lost."

He turned to her and buried his head in her hair.

"You will be okay Dawson. I know it's hard. I miss you and Zai so much. But I'm dead baby. You're not. I love you two more than anything, but you have to go on without me."

He brushed a finger across her lips. "I can feel you."

"I can feel you too. But it won't always be like this. You'll wake up and you might not even remember." She squeezed his hand. "Please promise me that you'll take care of Zai."

"I don't know if I can."

He looked like he wanted to cry.

Lacy put her arms around him. She didn't want to let go. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to feel him in her arms again.

"Of course you can babe. You're the strongest person I know."

"You were the strong one. I wouldn't have made it through when Azai had pneumonia without you. I was so scared."

"It's okay to be scared. It's okay to be unsure. It's okay to miss me. You just can't miss me so much that you stop living."

"You were always too good for me."

"Hush. I always thought you were too good for me. What did a smart, good looking guy want with a shy girl with purple streaks in her hair and a fake nose ring?"

He laughed. It felt so good to hear him laugh.

"You were always more beautiful than you knew. I love you Lacy. I will always love you."

She kissed him. The touch of his lips made her realize how much she really had missed him.

Their daughter was going to be okay. She just needed to know that Dawson would be too.

"I love you too Dawson."

"Don't leave me Lacy. If I know you're there, I think I can do it. I just have to know you're there if I need you."

"I don't know how long I can be here babe. Times passes differently for me. I won't leave you unless I have to. I can promise you that."

"Will you stay with me tonight? I promise I'll try to do better in the morning."

"Of course. But do you think you can try to take us someplace a little more cheerful?"

He smiled. He closed his eyes and took her hand. Suddenly they were in the apartment they had lived in when they'd first gotten married. It had been tiny and their furniture had all been from the thrift store. But it had been home and they'd been happy.

"Why here?"

"There were a lot of really great memories here."

"There are a lot of good memories in the house too."

He sighed. "Lace?"

"What babe?"

"I'm selling the house."

"Do whatever you have to to get on with your life Dawson."

"I want you to know that it's not because I'm trying to forget you. It's just too hard to look out the front door and see the street where you . . ."

"It's okay. I promise."

"Nothing feels okay anymore Lacy. I've been a terrible father."

"She will forgive you. She will understand. Azai is strong. She's going to be okay. Believe me, I would much rather be there, I mean really be there, to see her grow, but she is going to be fine without me. You're both going to be fine. You just have to believe that you're going to be okay my love."

"Can I hold you? I miss having you in my arms so much."

She nodded. She couldn't speak. It broke her heart to think that Azai and Dawson would be okay without her, but she needed them to be.

He took her hand and led her to their old bedroom. It was tiny, not even big enough for both a bed and a dresser. He'd imagined the bed from the house in place of the air mattress they'd slept on when they'd lived here.

They lay down, her head on his bare chest with his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head. "I love you Lacy Stinson. Always and forever."

"I love you too Dawson."

She blinked out again. When realization came back, she was back in the living room. Dawson was sitting up in the chair, rubbing his eyes. He looked around. "Lacy."

"I'm here."

But he couldn't hear her. "If you can hear me Lacy, I love you and I'm going to be a better father from now on. I'm sorry babe. I just miss you so much. Please try to find your way back to me if you can. You made me feel so much better. Like I'm still alive."

"I will. I love you Dawson. I miss you."

Things got better after that. Dawson stopped drinking, though it took three months before he was completely sober and another six months after that for him to quit smoking. He and Azai bought a house in a small town in Colorado. He went back to work. They both seemed happier.

Lacy could still talk to Azai when her daughter was sleeping, but as she got older it got harder. She could enter Dawson's dreams but it was never at will. It only seemed to happen when he really missed her, when he really needed her.

When Azai was fifteen she had her first boyfriend. It was the night of her first real date, just she and the boy alone at the movies instead of with a group of friends. Azai had returned home positively glowing and gone straight up to bed.

Dawson had tossed and turned. When he finally fell asleep Lacy felt the pull of his dream.

They were in the bedroom. Dawson was wearing nothing but his pajama bottoms. He looked good.

She looked down at herself and noticed she was wearing the teddy that he had bought her but she'd refused to wear when she was alive. He'd figured out how to control what she wore in his dreams.

"Dawson."

He gave her a sly grin. "What?"

"Why I am wearing this thing?"

"Because you're beautiful."

"Ha ha. Put me in something else."

"No. I want to try something."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

She thought that he looked almost shy suddenly. "Well, when you're here in my dreams, I can touch you. I feel you like you're still here. I can hold you and kiss you. I wondered if maybe we could. . ."

Dawson was actually blushing she thought. She gave him a sly grin. "Dawson Stinson are you that lonely? I saw the way you were looking at Zai's friend's mom the other day."

When you'd been dead for nine years, it was less of a blow to think of your husband falling for someone else.

He gave her a dirty look. "I love you Lacy. No one else."

"I've been dead for nine years' honey. If you find someone else, I think I can deal with it."

"I want you. Please will you. . . Can we. . ."

He seemed more nervous now than he had the first time they'd made love. Of course there was a difference between that and making love to your dead wife in a dream she supposed.

"Of course we can try. But please don't be disappointed if we can't or it doesn't feel the same way okay?"

He nodded. He pulled her to him and kissed her like he'd never see her again. They could and did make love. Lacy couldn't describe it. It was the most incredible thing she'd ever felt, alive or dead.

She was only able to come out of Dawson's dream and notice the huge grin on his sleeping face before she went away again.

This time it wasn't a later date and she wasn't at her family's home. She was in a room that was lit only by a single candle. Xavier was sitting across the table from her.

He gave her an amused glance. "Nice outfit."

She looked down at herself and noticed she was wearing the teddy. "My husband did that-not me. I haven't figured out how to change my clothes."

Xavier blinked. She was suddenly wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. "Better? I'm surprised you haven't figured it out after all this time."

She shrugged. "It never really mattered before. May I ask why I'm here?"

"It's time to say goodbye Elacia."

"You mean to my family? Why?"

"There always comes a time when the living no longer need the dead Lacy."

"But. . ."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that Lacy. Your family will always need you. They will always love you, and will always miss you. They've just come to a point where they can handle you not being there."

"But Dawson and I . . ."

She couldn't say it. She still wasn't sure exactly who Xavier was or how he'd given her the choice that he'd given her. What she and Dawson had shared was too hard to explain.

Xavier looked into her eyes. "I know Lacy. I gave you tonight with your husband because it was what you both needed. But now it's time for you to move on. Dawson will be fine. Azai will be fine. You are very special to both of them and they will never forget that."

"Can I at least say goodbye?"

"Yes. Tomorrow night you will be able to say goodbye."

"Thank you." She paused. There was so much she wanted to ask him. "Where will I go?"

"Where you choose to go Lacy."

"I don't understand."

"You will when the time comes."

She held back a sigh. "Who are you Xavier?"

"Think about it Elacia. You know who I am."

"But I don't."

Then it hit her. Xavier looked familiar. There'd always been something familiar about him.

"Your name wasn't Xavier. It was Holland when I knew you."

"Holland is my middle name."

Xavier was the boy she'd shared her first kiss with when she was twelve. The only boy in school who didn't make fun of her because she wore black clothes and painted her finger nails neon green and wanted to pierce her nose. He'd made her feel that it was okay to be herself. Until he'd disappeared halfway through their sixth grade year without a trace.

She'd pined over him for years. She'd thought she'd never want another boy. Until Dawson came along.

"How did you die?"

"It doesn't matter Elacia."

"Are you an angel?"

He laughed. "In a way I suppose. In other ways, no, or at least not in the way people normally think of angels."

"You left without saying goodbye."

"Not my choice. I never forgot about you Lacy."

"I never really forgot you either. Until I met Dawson."

"It's okay. Dawson was the one you were meant to be with. I'll come back for you in the morning Lacy."

"It's tomorrow night already?"

"Yes."

"Will I be able to see them at all even if I can't talk to them anymore?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"Don't worry so much Lacy. You'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

Xavier smiled. It reached his eyes. They looked like a clear blue sky. They were beautiful. "Yes Elacia. I'm sure. I'll see you soon."

She stood up and took a deep breath. She was back in Azai's room. Her daughter was curled up on her side, covers on the floor. Lacy smiled. She'd never managed to stay covered all night when she was little.

"Zai."

"Mom?"

"Yes honey."

"I wish you were here. I love Dad, but it's so hard to talk to him about girl stuff."

"You'll get through it honey. Dad loves you. He'll try his best."

"I know, but sometimes it really sucks not having a Mom."

"I know baby. I'm sorry I had to leave you."

"I like it when you're here to talk to me."

"Me, too. But I have to leave you baby. I came to say goodbye."

"But you've always been here. Why do you have to leave now?"

"You're ready for me to go Zai."

"No, I'm not. There's so much. . ."

"I know. You'll be okay. You and Dad both will be."

"I don't know about Dad. If you really leave us he might go crazy again."

"He'll be okay. I love you Azai Marie."

"I love you too Mom. I'm glad you're my mom."

"Me too baby. You take care of Dad for me okay?"

"I will."

"Goodbye baby. Know that I will always love you."

"Bye Mom. I wish you could stay."

"Me, too. I have to go say goodbye to Dad."

"Okay. I'm going to miss you all over again."

"I know. Me, too."

She reached out and brushed Azai's hair out of her face. "Sweet dreams baby girl. You'll always be my baby."

She looked at her daughter one last time and then went down to the hall to Dawson's room. She paused outside the door. Could she do this she wondered? What if Azai was right? What if now that she really had to leave Dawson couldn't take it?

She stepped through the door, and stood for a moment, looking at her husband. He was so handsome.

He didn't look like the father of a teenage daughter. He looked so peaceful in his sleep too. Too bad she had to intrude on his dreams she thought.

She stepped to the side of the bed, knowing that she'd be able to slip into his dream without a problem. He was sitting at the edge of a lake she'd never seen before, fishing pole in hand.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi." He gave her a huge smile. "If I'd have known you'd be here I might have imagined someplace else."

"I need to talk to you Dawson."

His smile faded. "About what?"

"It's time for me to go babe."

"You can't go now. Not after we made love. It was the best I've felt since you've been gone Lace. Please don't leave me now."

"You're ready for me to go Dawson. It's time."

"But I'm not. I'll never be ready for you to leave, until I'm ready to leave."

She kissed him. "You'll be okay. I will always love you Dawson."

"And I will always love you. That's why you can't leave me. I can't take it. You saw how well I did when you weren't around."

"It's been nine years' honey. I don't want to leave you either but it's time. You have to move on."

"I won't move on. I will never love anyone but you."

"I didn't say you had to. Babe I'm sorry. I don't have a choice. It's not easy for me either. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to leave Zai. But I have to go."

"Where are you going? To heaven?"

"I don't know babe. Just away."

"Will I see you there when I go?"

"I'm sure you will."

She wasn't really sure since Xavier was so mysterious about everything, but she knew it was what he needed to hear.

"I'll be counting the days."

"Don't you dare Dawson Stinson. You live. You be happy. Watch our daughter graduate. Watch her get married. Hold our first grandchild."

"I'm gonna miss you babe."

"I know. I'll miss you too. Take care of our baby."

"I will. I'll make you proud."

"I was always proud. I love you Mr. Stinson."

"And I love you Mrs. Stinson. Can you at least stay with me tonight?"

"Yes. Take us back to the bedroom. But I will be gone when you wake up."

"I wish you didn't have to go."

"Me too babe."

He took them back to the bedroom. They lay together on the bed. Lacy stayed with him as long as she could, but she felt herself slipping away. When she came back to herself she was in an open room that was full of sunshine. There were canvases lining the walls and paint and brushes on the table in front of her.

She'd always wanted to be an artist but never felt she was good enough. She found that she could paint now, though. She painted all day and night most days and didn't grow tired. She painted Dawson. She painted Azai. She even painted Xavier, both the man he was now and the boy he was when she'd known him before.

She was able to look in on her family now and again. She saw Azai graduate. She saw her daughter get married. She saw her granddaughter being born. Then only a few years later, she saw her beloved husband die.

Dawson was forty-seven when he passed. He died in a car accident with an inexperienced teenage driver on an icy road. She held his hand as he took his dying breaths. He could hear her for the first time in years.

He asked her if he could go with her now. She said "Yes."

She didn't care if it was true or not.

Luckily it was. He returned with her to her sunny home. She was jealous at first when he was able to talk to their daughter and granddaughter when she wasn't, but she got over it quickly. Knowing that the choice she had made had allowed her child to grow up was enough.

Special Bonus Story: Not My Time

Starr opened the door to her refrigerator. She noticed offhandedly that it was empty again.

There was no food in the cupboards either. She shrugged to herself and sighed, reaching for a glass out of the cupboard for water. But all of the glasses were in the sink, already dirty. Her house was a mess, her life was a mess, but Starr Brentwood found that she didn't much care.

She retreated to the living room, sitting down in what used to be her fiancé's easy chair.

She missed Reid. But he'd walked away when she'd needed him most. He had turned out to be no different than the fathers of her three older children.

Things had been going so well, too. If things had gone the way they were supposed to, they would have been married six months by now. But no, Starr thought as she lit the last cigarette in the pack, things had gone to shit like they always seemed to.

It had started a year and a half ago, when she was pregnant with Mary Jean. Reid was a recovering addict. But when she'd first met him three years ago, he had been clean for almost a decade. He was older than her by ten years but he'd always been so good to her. Starr wasn't used to being treated well by the men in her life.

They'd met at the daycare center. She was picking up her three kids. He was picking up his son. She'd been waiting for the bus at the stop in front of the center, struggling with her five-year-old son Percy who was fighting with her over a toy car, her three-year-old daughter Brianna who was dancing around because she'd only decided she needed to go to the bathroom when they'd left the daycare center, and the baby Kaelen who was squirming in her arms. She had dropped her diaper bag on the ground, spilling everything from diapers to extra clothes, to the contents of her pocketbook on the ground. She had been trying to pick everything up, hold her struggling son and keep an eye on the older kids at the same time when she heard a male voice say "Let me help you."

She was close to tears of frustration when he showed up, his handsome four-year-old son who looked like a miniature version of his father standing patiently next to him. Reid had helped her pick everything up. It was all back in the diaper bag when the bus pulled up. She was heading towards the doors when it pulled away immediately after dropping someone off.

Tears sprang to her eyes again when Brianna burst into tears. It was the combination of the bus pulling away without them and her daughter wetting her pants that sent her over the edge.

Reid had taken one look at her face and said "Miss, where do you need to go? If it's short I can give you a ride. I don't have extra car seats but I have plenty of room." He'd gestured to a full size van parked at the curb.

"It's only about ten blocks away but it's so hard to walk with all three kids," she'd told him.

"Come on."

He'd loaded all of them into the van. They'd become fast friends that had turned into lovers. She'd become pregnant with his child. They'd planned on marriage and trying to gain custody of his son Reid Jr. He'd helped her get not only a bigger place, but a better job.

They were happy.

Until Reid had relapsed when she was seven months pregnant with Mary Jean. At first it was marijuana, which she figured was pretty close to harmless. Her sixty-year-old aunt in California even had a prescription for it. Then it had turned into coke. Reid would come home one out of every three nights. They'd started fighting all the time.

The kids were at her mom's house when he came in late one night. He was high. She could see it in his eyes. The man she loved was turning into no different than the men she thought she'd loved before. She couldn't put her kids through it again. But she'd loved Reid so much.

That was why she'd done it. She'd seen a real family, a good life within her grasp. He brought coke home. When he'd offered to share, she'd taken him up on it. She thought he'd pay attention to her that way. He had for a while. They'd had incredible sex that night and he'd been straight for a few days afterwards.

She'd only snorted coke with him twice after that. It was never much. She was so afraid it would hurt the baby or that they'd find it in her system and take the kids away. Reid told her that his ex had smoked meth right before giving birth to their son and had tested clean. She'd believed him. The baby was fine at her next doctor's appointment.

Then she went into labor three weeks early. They found the cocaine in her system.

They took the baby from the hospital and the older kids from her mother's house. She'd never understood why they couldn't leave her kids with their grandma but she couldn't stop them.

Reid had been by her side for the first few court hearings. He told the judge they were getting married and he wanted to adopt her older kids. They went to all the classes and appointments the social workers told them to.

Starr's drug tests were clean after the first one. Reid's were after the second. She'd gotten a promotion. Her lawyer said the kids were going to be able to come home. Then they'd gotten a new DFS worker and everything had gone to Hell. They got less visits with the kids. Percy was put into a different foster home. They ignored her mother as a placement though she'd gone through all the training and inspections.

Six months later, her parental rights were terminated for all four of her kids and Reid was just dust in the wind. Six more months after that she was living off of unemployment and whatever odd jobs she could pick up. She was living in a broken down, one-bedroom apartment and paying outrageous rent on a storage unit. She couldn't stand to part with the things that had belonged to her children.

She'd take so much back of what she'd done if she could, make better choices. She wasn't a bad mother until she'd been pregnant with Mary Jean, or at least she hadn't thought so.

The social workers had thought differently though, picked over every little detail of her life.

Starr put out the cigarette and wondered if she had a pack hiding somewhere in another pair of pants or the bottom of her purse. She figured she should be hungry but she wasn't. Not much of anything mattered anymore. A judge's decision that she wasn't fit to be a mother had taken all that mattered away.

She could move she thought. She could have more children. Change her name, dye her hair, do whatever she wanted. She was only twenty-seven, had practically her whole life ahead of her.

But without her heart it didn't matter. Her children were her heart.

Starr got up from the chair and went to the bedroom. She dug in her purse and found two stray cigarettes that miraculously weren't broken. There was also an almost full bottle of the antidepressants they had given her when she was still fighting for the kids.

She lit one of the cigarettes and took a deep drag, contemplating the bottle. She had an almost full bottle of schnapps in the freezer. Would the pills and the alcohol be enough to end her worthless life Starr wondered?

Still puffing on the cigarette, she walked into the bathroom. There was another bottle of pills in the medicine cabinet. The first "happy pill" that they'd given her that hadn't worked. The second hadn't really either but she'd pretended so they'd leave her alone. That bottle was half full. Maybe the combination would put her to sleep permanently she thought.

Starr put the cigarette butt in the toilet and took both bottles of pills with her to the kitchen, where she dug the cinnamon schnapps out of the freezer. She rinsed out a glass with hot water since she didn't have any dish soap and took the pills and the alcohol to the living room.

She lit the last cigarette and poured the glass half full of schnapps. She looked at the red liquid. She'd never been much of a drinker, couldn't stand to drink if you could taste the alcohol, but the schnapps tasted more like cinnamon candy than alcohol.

She took a sip. It burned her throat a little. She put the cigarette in the ashtray and opened one of the pill bottles. Starr tossed ten antidepressants in her mouth. She had taken a gulp of alcohol to wash them down when the irony hit her of killing yourself with antidepressants. She almost choked.

She'd taken another five pills and drained the glass when it really hit her that she might never see her kids again. If she knew that'd she'd be able to watch over them, it might be okay.

But she didn't know that.

Suddenly feeling nauseous, Starr went to the bathroom and threw up. When her stomach was empty, she still felt like crap but realized it would probably be a good idea to eat something, even if it only meant she had something in her stomach to throw up. That meant she had to leave the house.

Feeling shaky, Starr wiped her mouth and rinsed with mouthwash. She was surprised for a minute that there was any left but then it hit her she hadn't been doing very well at brushing her teeth. She let out a shaky laugh and looked at herself in the mirror.

She'd never been beautiful, but now she looked like death warmed over. She made a face at herself, and realized how close she'd come to killing herself.

"What the fuck Starr," she said to her reflection in the mirror. "You're letting those fuckers win. You messed up, but you're better than this."

It was what her mother had told her over and over again before she'd stopped talking to her. Sighing, Starr shoved her feet into a pair of sandals and grabbed her purse. At least she could get cigarettes when she went out.

There was a strip mall four blocks away that had a fast food place, a grocery store and a mini mart. That would work just fine Starr thought.

Thirty minutes later, she had a bag with two burgers, cigarettes and a few things from the grocery store in hand. She was headed out of the parking lot towards home when she dropped her lighter. She bent down to pick it up. When she straightened up, suddenly a car was speeding her way. She tried to step out of the way but they were going too fast.

Starr Brentwood's body hit the ground, broken and bloody, on the day she'd decided not to end her life. Her vision was blurred. The man that stood above her was fading in and out of her view. She took a last breath and wondered again if she would be able to watch over her children. It would be okay if she could she thought again.

Starr escaped from her body and looked down at her broken form. Of all the days to die.

She heard a familiar voice and turned. "Grandma?"

"Yes Starr. I didn't expect to see you so soon my dear."

"Yeah." Starr paused, no longer interested in watching the stranger sob over her broken body while the woman that had been the passenger spoke into a cell phone. Sirens were coming closer. "Grandma?"

"Yes?"

"Can I watch over my babies now?"

Starr's grandmother shook her head a little. "Sometimes you can, sometimes you can't honey. It depends. But they won't know you're there."

Starr sighed, though it made no sound. "Even in death nothing seems to go right."

"Come with me darling. There may be someone we can talk to about that."

Starr put her hand into her grandmother's and they were gone.

Special Bonus Story: You're not to Blame

Blythe woke up to the smell of cigarette smoke. It pissed her off. Not because someone was smoking in her house. She knew that no one could be smoking in the little one-bedroom trailer that she'd called home for the last four months. Jasper wouldn't take the spare key back when she'd begged him to.

It pissed her off because she wanted a cigarette and she was out. Blythe sat up in bed and groaned. Her head hurt. She'd thought that the hangovers would go away but they still seemed to creep up on her every now and then after she had a real bender.

She looked at the picture sitting on her dresser and closed her eyes briefly. It was the last family picture they'd taken before their lives had gone to hell. And it was all because of her.

She was wearing a dress though she hated them. Jasper was wearing his only suit. Six-year-old Sedona was wearing her favorite dress. She loved them. Four-year-old Brodie was wearing a miniature tuxedo. Two-year-old Gavin was wearing a tux identical to his older brother's. He had a superhero cape on top. It was the only way he'd take the picture.

She remembered that day. Jasper had started to yell at Gavin. She'd given him one look and he'd shut up. She'd thought that he'd figured out by then when not to argue with a two-year-old. She had thought that the addition of the cape in the picture made the picture different than any other boring family portrait. It really was a nice picture she thought, opening her eyes again. Too bad her family was no longer happy.

Or maybe they were she thought. Maybe they were happy without her. She reached over to her nightstand and dug through it, scattering papers on the floor and not caring. No cigarettes.

As she got out of bed, she wondered if her children hated her. She hadn't seen them in two weeks. Jasper refused to let her see them when she was drunk. Lately, she was always drunk. He hadn't filed for divorce yet, but she figured the day would come all too soon that he would. He would get custody of their children. Right now, she wouldn't blame a judge for calling her an unfit mother.

Eight short months before, she had been a PTA mom, the kind of mother that baked cookies and made Halloween costumes from patterns. Now she was an alcoholic who couldn't stay sober long enough to spend the weekend with her kids. It had all started when she'd hit seventeen-year-old Erica Sommers and killed her with her car.

She hadn't gone to jail after the accident. She'd been drinking before hand, but she was still well under the legal limits. It had been icy out. Erica had run out in the middle of the road. The girl had been wearing dark clothing and she'd literally come out of nowhere. Blythe hadn't been able to stop before she hit her.

Blythe still had nightmares about the accident almost every night. She didn't care if she'd walked away with just a ticket. She had taken the life of a seventeen-year-old girl and she couldn't live with herself.

Jasper had tried to get her to go to counseling. He'd wanted them all to go to counseling. He said she was scaring the kids when she woke up screaming at night. Now he said that she couldn't come home unless she went to rehab and agreed to family counseling. The kids were in counseling now. She wasn't sure how much help it could be to a four and six-year-old, let alone a two-year old, but he seemed to think it was helping with what he called their separation anxiety.

As Blythe crossed to the room to her dresser, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned towards the doorway of the bedroom, which was ajar, but there wasn't anything there. Even the cat with the tabby coat that Jasper had let the kids pick out to keep her company when she'd first moved had run away.

She found a half empty pack of cigarettes in her sock drawer and pulled them out, lighting one with a shaking hand. As the nicotine flooded through her blood, she thought she caught a subtle whiff of perfume.

She shook her head at herself and headed to the bathroom. Once she had used the toilet and washed her hands, she headed back to the bedroom. Her cell phone was beeping on the table but she figured it was her mother, who was nagging her about how irresponsible she was being, or her younger sister wanting to tell her about her latest boyfriend, so she left it there.

She crawled back into bed and lit another cigarette, wondering if she would be able to fall back asleep. Her eyes were closed when she heard the voice.

"Blythe."

The voice was faint, almost like someone talking through a tunnel, or bad reception on a cell phone. She opened her eyes and saw a faint bluish light in the corner of the room by the closet.

She leaned over and put out her cigarette, thinking that she was hearing things again. She was half asleep when the voice said again "Blythe."

She opened her eyes and immediately closed them again, thinking that she was really hearing things now and seeing them too. Erica Sommers was standing in the corner of her bedroom.

"Blythe."

She sat up in bed, reaching for the switch on the bedside lamp, though it was bright in the bedroom already. She was trying to chase away the ghost that was standing by her dresser.

"Blythe, can you hear me?"

Blythe snorted. "I can see you, too. I knew I was going crazy."

"You're not crazy Blythe. You need to listen to me."

"Listen to a ghost? How is that crazy? What are you doing here? Did you come to take your vengeance on me for killing you?"

"Blythe, this isn't a horror movie. Please listen to me. I don't know how long I have."

Blythe sighed. "Sure I'll listen. Listen to my guilty conscience. That's what you have to be. You sure as hell can't really be standing there."

A smile crossed Erica's face, then faded. "First of all, you need to get yourself together and go home to your kids. I can't get into it, but I've been shown a possible future for your children without you. It's not good Blythe. Jasper is a great dad but they need their mother. Especially your daughter."

Blythe frowned. Sedona was a daddy's girl. Always had been. "What will happen to my kids without me? My daughter?"

"Let's say that if you continue down the road you're on, they will eventually have a stepmother that isn't very nice. She'll be abusive. No one will believe your children at first, not even you or Jasper. By the time you start to believe them and get your life back together, and try to get custody, it will be too late. Sedona will have run away and have a very hard life. One or both or your boys will go to jail, maybe even prison. They'll grow to be adults that hate both of their parents. Your children deserve better. You all do. You have to straighten your life out. Starting today. This woman has already entered Jasper's life. He hasn't been unfaithful to you, but he is thinking of her more and more. Go home Blythe, I am begging you."

"It's not that easy Erica."

"Yes it is. You drank your stash last night. Don't go back to the liquor store. Call Jasper and tell him that you need help. You know you need help Blythe. Why are you doing this to yourself? I don't blame you for what happened. I know it was my fault. What my parents said to you, they said because they wanted to take you to court. They thought you had more money than you do. My parents aren't very nice people. It doesn't matter. Just go home."

"I . . . I don't think I can. My children must hate me."

"Your children don't hate you. Jasper doesn't hate you. They hate what you're doing to yourself. There is one last thing that I have to ask you. You can say no, but it would mean a lot to me if you would at least listen, okay?"

"Okay."

"My boyfriend's name is Chase Peterson. He's about to be evicted from his apartment. He needs a place to stay right away or he'll be in danger of losing our daughter and never getting her back."

"Your-daughter? I didn't know you had a daughter."

"I was pregnant when I passed. They were able to save my Angel. She was small but she survived. Since my parents didn't want her, they gave custody to Chase. They hate him but they didn't want to raise their daughter's bastard child."

"Oh my God. No one ever told me. I could never have lived with myself if I'd known."

Blythe started to cry.

"Blythe my baby is fine. She has a wonderful father who tells her stories about her mother every night at bed time. Chase is great with her. He just needs a little help right now. He started a new job. Angel's new day care is more expensive than the last one. If Angel grows up with her daddy, she'll be fine. If my baby ends up in foster care, she will live a harder life even than your children will without you. I'm not just saying this. I have been shown. My baby will grow up broken if she goes to foster care. Chase will fight for her until the end, but he'll lose. He'll end up overdosing on drugs eventually."

"That's so sad."

Blythe wasn't sure why she believed what the figment of her imagination standing in the corner of her bedroom was telling her, but somehow, she did.

"I know. Look Blythe, I hate to ask you this, but you're the only one I know to ask. I'm not playing on your guilt. I don't think what happened was your fault. I had a good life. My parents weren't the greatest, but I had the world's best grandmother and the three years that I knew Chase were the best in my life. I was happy. I need to know that my baby will be okay. You own this trailer right?"

"Yes."

The trailer was the first place she and Jasper had lived after they'd been married. They'd continued to pay the lot rent on it after they'd moved. They thought at least one of their kids could use it when they got older.

"Can Chase and Angel stay here? Until he gets back on his feet?"

"Yes, of course. But won't the invitation sound strange coming from the woman that killed his girlfriend?"

"I already talked to him about you. He's much easier to get through to than you were, I guess since we were so close. His number's in the phone book. He's expecting your call. I can't thank you enough for this Blythe. I don't know what I would have done otherwise. I have to go. Please go home to your family."

The girl faded away as suddenly as she'd appeared.

Blythe sat back and reached absentmindedly for another cigarette. What had just happened? The ghost of the teenage girl whose life she'd taken couldn't really have talked to her from beyond the grave, could she have? Wondering if she really was going crazy, Blythe got up and went to the kitchen.

There was a phone book on the top of the refrigerator. She pulled it down and paged through until she found the P's. There were many listings for Peterson, but no Chase. She put the book back and sighed. She was losing it.

Then she glanced at the date on the cover of the book and noticed it was several years old. Was it possible that Erica's boyfriend's number was too new to be listed in that edition of the phone book?

She went to the hall closet and shoved aside some old winter coats, to see if there was a newer copy of the local phone book. But there was nothing. She'd look the number up online but she'd left the computers with Jasper. He used the desktop and the kids played games on the laptop.

She went back to the bedroom, wondering how she was going to explain this to her husband without sounding crazy. She closed her eyes briefly, feeling a headache coming in. Then she figured she could simply tell him that she had heard a rumor that Erica had been pregnant and she wanted to talk to the baby's father and see if they needed anything. It could come up in conversation that they were being evicted. Her natural giving, trusting nature piled on top of her guilt over the accident, could certainly bring her to a decision to let them stay there without a visit from Erica's ghost.

She wasn't sure how much Jasper would appreciate it, or the quickly come upon decision that she'd made to give Chase Peterson the trailer, but right now she didn't care. Erica's baby deserved to have a good life, to grow up with her father instead of with strangers.

Blythe had been in foster care briefly when she was a child. Her mother had refused to leave Blythe's abusive stepfather. When the school had seen bruises, they'd called Child Protective Services. When the social worker had asked her if she'd wanted to live somewhere else, Blythe's eight-year-old mind had thought that it meant going to live with her grandmother and had immediately said yes. It had meant foster care until her stepfather decided to leave at his own behest and she'd been returned to her mother.

It had been traumatic. Blythe hated to think of another child going through the system. She reached for her cell phone and dialed her home phone number. Jasper would have a phone book.

Her son's small voice answered "'Lo?"

She suddenly wanted to cry again. "Hi baby. Mommy misses you and your big brother and sister. I love you Gavin."

"Love you too Mommy. I'm goin' to school."

"I know baby. Can I talk to Daddy please?"

The phone was dropped. It was her daughter's voice that answered. "Mom. When are you coming home? We miss you. Dad can't cook."

Blythe laughed. "I know he can't baby. I'm going to talk to your dad about coming home real soon okay? I love you."

"I love you too Mom. Here's Dad."

"Blythe?"

"Yes Jasper. Can I ask you a favor please?"

His voice was cautious. "What is it?"

"Can you look up a number for me in the phone book? Chase Peterson."

"Who's that?"

She could hear him paging through the phone book. "Erica Sommers's boyfriend."

Jasper's voice still had a cautious note. "Why do you want his number?"

"Someone said that Erica was pregnant when the accident happened and that he's raising their baby."

"I heard about the baby. I thought her parents were raising it."

"No. They didn't want it I guess. Why didn't you tell me she was pregnant Jasper?"

Jasper sighed. "You would have been more freaked out than you already were Bly. I didn't think you could take it. Have you thought anymore about what I said? About rehab? The place is real nice. Bruce's cousin went there. He sent me a brochure. Our insurance should cover at least part of it. Please babe. At least think about it."

"I have thought about it Jas." She took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. She wasn't sure how well she was going to handle quitting drinking, or going to counseling, but she knew she had to go home. It what Erica said was right, there was no way she could let her family be torn apart by some woman that Jasper already knew, was already thinking about. "I want to do it, Jas. I want to come home."

"Bly, are you serious? I mean really serious. It can't be like last time when you say you're gonna go and get the kids' hopes up, just to let them down again."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll really do it this time. I'll do anything to keep our family together. I love you and the kids so much."

"We love you too babe. I'll call Crenshaw and see how soon they can get you in. I've got that number for you. Are you ready?"

She wrote the number down that Jasper gave her and repeated it back to him to make sure she had it right.

"Bly, can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Did something happen to make you change your mind about rehab? Something that you regret? You know if you did something when you were drunk, I'll be okay with it. I mean not okay with it, but we can get past it. If you'll really try."

She wanted to laugh. Jasper was trying to ask her if she'd slept with someone else while she was drunk without really asking her. She wanted to tell him that she had almost slept with someone on one of the few nights she had gone out to the bar instead of getting drunk by herself, but hadn't gone through with it. She'd kept comparing the guy to Jasper and he'd always come up short. It didn't seem like the right time to mention it though.

"No Jasper. Nothing like that. I had a dream about Erica. Not one of those nightmares I got that you said came from watching too many horror movies. A good one. She told me that she didn't blame me and that what happened wasn't worth ruining our family over. It made me feel better in some strange way."

"I'm sure she wouldn't have blamed you babe. It was an accident. One that you feel terrible about. It's time to move on. Our kids need you. They're tired of Dad's bad cooking and having their laundry turn colors."

Blythe laughed. "I love you Jasper. Thank you for sticking by me through all of this."

"You would have done the same for me Bly. I have to go. Gavin's got to go to the bathroom. I'm the only one that he'll let take him."

"How's he doing with the potty training?"

"Good most of the time. Other times not so good. Today's a not so good day so I'd better hurry. Will you call me later?"

"Yes. Goodbye Jasper. Tell the kids I love them."

"I will. I love you Bly. Goodbye."

Blythe hung up the phone and pondered the number scrawled on the sticky pad from her nightstand drawer. So Chase Peterson did exist and Erica did have a baby. What were the odds that Chase and the baby whom she'd bet was named Angel were facing eviction? Those were odds she'd take in Vegas.

She dialed the phone, noticing that her hand was still shaking. A masculine voice picked up after three rings and said "Hello."

"Chase Peterson?"

"Yeah. Who is this?" There was a baby crying in the background.

"Blythe Wayne."

"Erica told me you might be calling. Guess you're as crazy as me huh, talking to a ghost. Can you hang on a second please? I need to pick Angel up."

"Of course."

Blythe lit a cigarette, knowing she was going to have to quit again. She'd quit when she'd learned she was pregnant with Sedona and hadn't thought of smoking again until the night Erica died.

Chase returned to the phone. "Sorry about that. She's teething and always wants to be held. They say she cries all the time at the new daycare. I think she misses her mom."

Blythe swallowed over the lump that had suddenly grown in her throat. "I'll bet she does."

"I don't blame you. Erica never would have either. People thought she was trash. Her parents are always drunk and doing stupid things in public. I know you're not like that though. You weren't drunk when it happened."

"I wasn't, but I had been drinking before then. It was stupid. And I am an alcoholic now. I'm going to get help, though. I want to go home to my family. It just took a visit from the ghost of your girlfriend to make me realize how much."

Chase laughed. "The first time I saw her, I thought I'd lost my mind. But Angel sees her, too. Do you know that the first word the little shit said was 'Ma Ma'?" Blythe laughed. "But I'm guessing there's a reason that you called me ma'am."

"You can call me Blythe. There is a reason yes. Erica said that you might be getting evicted?"

Chase sighed. "Yeah. I'm short on the rent. The landlord won't wait any longer. I get paid next week, but we're two weeks past due already. I'd ask my mom but she's always broke since she supports my sister and her kids. Erica's parents won't help either. They wouldn't even buy diapers for the baby when we ran out. I had to figure out how to use those cloth ones that someone donated to the church."

"I'm sorry Chase."

"It's okay. My new job pays a lot better than the old one. We should be doing okay pretty soon. I had to take Angel out of her old day care. A kid got hurt there and no one could explain why. I want my baby to be safe."

"I know. Chase, my husband and I have a trailer. It's small but we own it. We pay the lot rent by the year so it's all paid up for this year. The utility bills don't normally run too high. We could help you pay them if you needed it. I'm staying there right now, but I should be out within the next couple of days. I'm going home, or at least home after I go to rehab. Will your landlord give you another two or three days?"

"He said he'd give me until Friday."

"That's great. Do you have a truck to move your things? If not, I'm sure my husband would be willing to help you. He's got a truck."

"I have a truck. It was Erica's. But I can't stay at your place without paying you something."

"Yes, you can. After what happened with Erica, I feel like I need to do something. It's the least I can do. I want to give the trailer to you and Angel. It's not much, but at least it's a start."

"No way can I let you do that."

"Before I moved in here, this place had sat empty for almost five years. You can stay as long as you need to. Save your money. If you want to stay here for ten years, then do it. The living room is pretty good sized. Big enough for a pull out couch bed. You can do whatever you want to the place. The yard is small but it's big enough for a small dog. Angel would probably like a dog when she gets older. There's a park a few blocks away. There are a lot of really nice families here in the trailer park. It wouldn't be a bad place for your daughter to grow up."

"Really? You'd give us your house?"

"Like I said, we don't use it anymore. It would be much better for it to be used than to sit empty. Please tell me you'll accept."

"Well, I wouldn't take it, if it weren't for Angel. Someone already called Child Protective Services. They heard we were getting evicted. That worker, she looked so gung ho, I'd bet she'd hand her kid right over to the government if she ever had one."

Blythe laughed. "I've seen a few like that. Let me give you my number so you can let me know when you're ready to move in. You can keep the furniture if you want or get rid of it. There's a little shed out back. If you need help with anything, or have any problems, let me know."

"I don't know how to thank you."

"You're welcome. I don't think Erica would like either of us very much if there was something that could be done to stop Angel from getting taken away and we didn't do it."

"I know. Let me get a pen."

When Chase returned to the phone, she gave him her number. They hung up shortly after, promising to keep in touch.

Strangely, Blythe felt better than she had in days. She barely wanted a drink, though she knew well enough to know that the cravings were going to hit again. She called Jasper. He wasn't anywhere near as upset as she thought he'd be when she told him she'd promised the trailer to Chase and Angel.

Three days later, she was in rehab and Chase and Angel had moved into the trailer.

When she got out of rehab, Blythe went home to her family. It hardly seemed strange anymore that a visit from a ghost was what had gotten her her family back. It was enough to know that she had possibly saved not one, but two families in the process.

Special Bonus Story: Into the Light

She awoke to darkness and a feeling of uneasiness. Charlotte blinked in the dark and sat up, realizing she had no idea where she was.

She cleared her throat, memories flooding her mind of a car accident and pain like she'd never felt before. She gently stretched her limbs, but felt no pain.

She wondered if she was in the hospital, but the silence was too complete and the darkness that surrounded her would have been out of place in a medical facility.

"Hello," she said. Her throat was dry and she longed for a drink of water.

She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and took in the room. It was large but held only a bed, a night stand and a chair at the foot of the bed, which somehow seemed to absorb the darkness.

Charlotte closed her eyes briefly, fighting the panic that was starting to rise. She took a deep breath and let it out, opening her eyes slowly and finally noticing the pitcher of water and glass sitting on the night stand.

She poured a glass and drank greedily, the dryness of her throat slowly easing.

"So you've finally taken in upon yourself to awaken from your slumber. I was beginning to think you were a lost case."

Charlotte almost dropped the glass. The voice came from the direction of the chair, where the darkness seemed deeper than the rest of the room.

Thoughts flashed through her mind in an excited jumble, none making much sense. She was in an insane asylum, she had been kidnapped, she was imagining things, had to be dreaming. Then another kind of realization dawned on her. If she was alone in this strange place besides the voice that belonged to a face she couldn't see, where was Jordan-her four-year-old daughter?

"Where am I and where is my daughter?"

Charlotte heard the flick of a lighter. The glow of a cigarette showed from the direction of the chair, but the smoker was still in shadow.

"You're asking the wrong questions Charlotte."

"What do you mean I'm asking the wrong questions? Where is my daughter? She's only four."

Tears flooded her eyes and panic threatened to overtake her. Hadn't she been through enough already was her thought.

"You know where Jordan is Charlotte. Calm down and think back to your last clear memories. Would you like a cigarette?"

A pale hand reached out in the darkness, holding a familiar gold and white cigarette pack and a lighter. The brand she had smoked before she'd quit after learning she was pregnant with Jordan.

"I quit."

"Five years ago. I know. One won't hurt. Might clear your mind a little."

Charlotte sighed. "I don't want a cigarette. I want my daughter. Who's watching over her? She doesn't like strangers. She's not with her father is she? He can't see her. He doesn't have any custody rights."

"Jordan is fine Charlotte. I promise you she will be fine without you until you're ready to leave."

"What? Where am I? Don't they bother to pay the electricity bill here?"

A gentle laugh and the cigarettes and lighter were tossed onto the bed. "Have a cigarette and we'll talk."

"I don't want a damned cigarette."

"As you wish. Let's talk Charlotte. How do you feel?"

"Fine. Irritated that I'm being kept away from my child and held somewhere in the dark and forced to take up my prior bad habits, but other than that-fine."

"What's the last thing you remember before you woke up?"

Charlotte absentmindedly reached for the cigarette pack. She was uneasy again. Everything felt off and it was for more than the obvious reasons. The voice in the darkness was familiar somehow.

"Who are you?"

"In time Charlotte. Close your eyes and tell me your last memory."

"Am I in the loony bin? Did Kayden somehow manage to get me committed?"

"Charlotte, everything will be clear in time. Please just slow down and tell me your last memory before you woke up."

"Am I locked in here with you? Why can't I see you? Who the hell are you?"

"You will know when you are ready."

"No, that's not how this is going to work. Tell me where I am and where my daughter is or I'll scream."

"No one would hear you."

"I've been kidnapped by some crazy serial killer who smokes the same brand of cigarettes I used to and somehow knows when I quit smoking. Wonderful. Like my life hasn't been hard enough."

"I know it hasn't been easy Charlotte, but you need to calm down. You're making this harder on yourself."

Charlotte lit a cigarette just for something to do and coughed out the first drag.

"Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"

"Charlotte, your last memory. It's important."

"Why? I want my daughter dammit."

"You won't get to her by refusing to remember Charlotte."

"You don't make any sense. Besides, my last memory is probably of you kidnapping me. Kayden planned this didn't he? He probably caused the car accident, kidnapped Jordy and paid you to kill me."

"What do you remember about the accident?"

"Nothing."

"Think harder Charlotte. Let yourself remember."

"I . . ." She put the cigarette out in the ashtray. Memories flooded her mind again, but they were jumbled. The loud sound of a crash, then pain, then nothingness. "I don't remember."

"You do Charlotte. I know it's not easy, but you need to remember."

"Why wouldn't it be easy? I was. . ." Charlotte bit her lip. "I had to have been taking Jordy to school. Yeah. At least that's what I think I was doing when we crashed. Is Jordan okay? She wasn't hurt in the crash was she? Why can't I remember?"

"You can. You don't want to. You don't think you can handle the memories, but you are much stronger than you realize."

"Of course I'm strong. I've made it through an abusive marriage, a run in with child protective services, two months at a homeless shelter and all kinds of other bullshit in my twenty-seven years."

"Think harder Charlotte. Open your mind."

"What is this? Sensory deprivation or something? Why is it so damned dark in here?"

"Your eyes aren't ready to see what's in front of you."

"Bullshit. If you know so much, why don't you just tell me what happened and why I'm here?"

"That's not how it works Charlotte. Besides, I can't tell you what you already know."

Charlotte snorted. "Now that makes sense. Can I talk to your supervisor?"

The voice laughed, though it held little humor. "Supervisor of what?"

Charlotte sighed. "So you are keeping me here against my will."

"No. You are the only thing that's keeping you here."

"Bullshit."

Charlotte got to her feet and crossed the room slowly and carefully to the door. She turned the knob, but it wouldn't open.

"It's locked." Charlotte turned back towards the chair and the naggingly familiar voice. "I've had enough of this. Take me to my daughter."

"Only you can bring yourself back to Jordan. If you were ready, the door would open."

Charlotte let out a sigh full of frustration and crossed to the bed again. "You're talking in circles. I'm in a mental hospital aren't I? What happened after the accident?"

"It's as easy as letting yourself remember Charlotte, or as hard as you choose to make it."

Charlotte lit a cigarette and tossed the pack back to the mystery woman in the chair, not caring if she hit the woman. She wanted to hit the woman. Anger that had been contained for what seemed like forever threatened to boil over.

The pale hand shot out of the darkness and the cigarettes disappeared back into it.

"Charlotte what do you think happened after the accident?"

"I don't know. I was driving Jordy to school. Then there was a crash and a lot of pain. That's all I remember until I woke up here in the dark with a mysterious stranger for company who talks in riddles and won't give me a straight answer."

"You already have all the answers you need."

"I obviously don't, or I wouldn't be asking you for them."

"Do you remember how your grandmother helped you to remember things Charlotte?"

Her nana Julie had been her favorite person when she was young and had helped her learn to count and read and many other things. She had passed the same tips and tricks on to Jordy.

"Yes."

"Then remember Charlotte."

Charlotte closed her eyes and tried to let the frustration flow out of her as she let her breath out. As the panic at her current situation tried to break in, she pushed it aside and forced herself to think only of her daughter.

Brown ringlets to her shoulders, eyes that changed from golden brown to green, to a pale blue. Her mother's delicate frame and her father's stubbornness and fiery temper. Jordan was what had pulled Charlotte through the darkest times of her life. An ache rose to see her daughter so great that she couldn't breathe for a moment.

As the panic slowly faded again, Charlotte remembered. Making breakfast, fighting with Jordy to get her to finish her milk. The drizzle as they headed to the car. Heading back inside to get Jordy's rain slicker. The rain coming down harder as they neared the preschool. A car coming out of nowhere and the crash. Then nothingness again.

"We crashed. A car came out of nowhere and I couldn't stop. There was another car right behind me and they slammed into the back of the car. I remember the sound of the crash, the pain and then nothing. Is Jordan okay?"

"Think Charlotte. You know what happened to Jordan."

"No, I don't."

The flick of the lighter came again and a cigarette flared in the darkness. "You're making this difficult Charlotte." The woman sighed. "Maybe it would be easier if we started with something else. Tell me about Jordan."

"I am in a mental hospital aren't I?"

"No. Tell me about your daughter please. Start with how you met Kayden."

"I'm not going to waste time with your in the dark therapy. Let me out of here."

"You tried the door yourself. I can't let you out. Only you can."

"Someday I'll probably look back on this and laugh. I'll tell you what, you let me speak to my daughter and I'll tell you whatever you want."

"Jordan can't speak with you right now."

"Fine. We'll sit here in the dark and smoke cigarettes and not talk then. Sound good to you?"

"As you wish Charlotte."

Charlotte wanted to scream in frustration. She wanted to bang her head against the wall or push the woman out of the chair and use it to break the door down, or at least to try to break the door down. Instead, she sat back on the bed, put her head in her hands, and cried.

She cried for so long that when she was finally finished she felt completely drained. She ignored the woman who hadn't made a sound since her crying had started, rolled over on the bed, pulled the covers around her and went to sleep.

When she awoke, Charlotte realized that she had no idea what time it was or what day it was. The darkness was disorienting and Charlotte wondered just how long she had been locked in the room. Tears sprung to her eyes and she fought them back.

She sat still and listened, hoping she had been left alone, that she could find some way to free herself and get back to her daughter where she belonged. But the tip of a cigarette showed in the darkness. Charlotte hid a sigh.

"What's your name?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Are you ready to talk now Charlotte? We have all the time in the world, but the sooner you open the door, the sooner you can get back to Jordan."

Charlotte crossed the room and tried the door once again. It wouldn't budge. She pounded her fists on the door.

"Open the door. Somebody help me. Jordan, Jordan, Mommy's here and is doing everything she can to get to you."

Charlotte pounded on the door until her arms tired and then screamed some more.

The woman said nothing. When Charlotte was convinced no one was going to help her, she crossed back to the bed, glaring in the direction of the chair.

The cigarettes, lighter and ashtray appeared again on the bed. Charlotte smiled slowly. She lit a cigarette and then threw the ashtray as hard as she could towards where she figured the woman's head should be.

But the pale hand shot out of the darkness, caught the ashtray and placed it back on the bed.

"Charlotte, I'm not your enemy. I'm not here to hurt you. I can help you if you'll let me."

"Sure. We can talk and talk and then when you've finally tired of the sound of my voice you'll let me out. No. I don't care if you have no friends, or couldn't afford to go to school and get that degree in therapy you always wanted so you decided to kidnap me from the scene of my car accident and have someone to practice on. I have a child. A small child who doesn't have anyone else."

"Charlotte how did you meet Kayden?"

Charlotte sighed. "My ex-husband is the last thing I want to discuss right now."

"Since you still seem to be having a hard time comprehending your current situation, let's say that you are in a place you will not be leaving until you face what you need to face."

"Nice and vague. I do believe that I've faced my share of demons already. Most of them just happened to come in human form. The dream crushing Kayden Jones and the soul stealing Mrs. Katricia Bradford topping the list. Excuse me-that would be Ms. Katricia Bradford because God forbid a child stealing social worker actually be married and have children of her own."

"Jordan was in the state's custody for only a short time. Is that not correct Charlotte?"

"Two nights. The worst two nights of my life. Wait. Who the hell are you? Tell me right now or I won't say another word until you do."

Silence. Charlotte's emotions were threatening to overpower her again and the darkness wasn't helping.

"You seem to know all about me. Why is it so damned hard to just tell me your name?"

"You can call me Farrah if you wish. How did you meet the father of your child?"

The name Farrah nagged at Charlotte's mind for a moment. She had known a girl named Farrah once, but she somehow couldn't reconcile the name with the voice, though she hadn't seen the girl who would now be a grown woman in years.

"I'm sure you know all about how I met Kayden since you seem to know everything else. Do I really have to go through this? I need to see my daughter or at least know she's safe."

"Jordan is safe Charlotte. Quite content in her present company actually."

"So you've seen her? Please, please just let me see my baby. Even for only a moment."

"You're not ready for that."

Charlotte let out the sigh that had been building up for several minutes. "Listen Farrah, I have no idea who the hell you are, so I don't know if you have children, but you are always ready to see your children. On your worst day one smile or hearing that little voice call you Mom will make it all go away, make the world right again. Now show me that my daughter is okay."

The woman lit a cigarette. The room was silent and still for a moment, then an image appeared in the haze of cigarette smoke.

In front of Charlotte's astonished eyes, Jordan appeared. Her little girl was beaming, looking up at someone Charlotte couldn't see. Tears filled her eyes as the image disappeared almost as suddenly as it had appeared.

"Wait. No. Please, I can't stand this. I've fought so hard to give Jordan a good life. Please just let me go and give me my daughter back."

The woman's voice was gentle. "If I could let you go Charlotte, I would. Please believe me."

Charlotte angrily wiped her eyes and lit a cigarette. The realization came to her that the cigarette had no odor, and also that her thirst had disappeared. She wasn't hungry and had no need to use the bathroom either.

"Where the hell am I? How did you do that? Show me Jordan in a cloud of cigarette smoke? None of this can be real. I have to be dreaming."

"This is no dream Charlotte. What you see now is just your mind's way of coping. We could as easily be in your home or anywhere in the world really."

"If I play along with your insane games will you take me to my daughter?"

Charlotte set aside her other questions and doubts for the moment. Jordan was her priority and had been since she'd learned she was carrying the child.

"If you choose to view this as an insane game Charlotte, then your answer in a form is yes."

"That's not really an answer, but it's the closest you've given me to one so far. Why do you want to know about Kayden? I might as well have had a child with some random sperm donor. I would have been better off."

"As hard as it can be to comprehend, things do happen for a reason."

Charlotte snorted. "God doesn't make mistakes and we're too human to understand his will as fucked up as it seems sometimes. It's bullshit. Contradictory. Freedom of choice, but watch out for the devil because he's looking over your shoulder, helping you to make the wrong choices. If I believed in the devil, I would believe he led me to Kayden. But I don't. I believe your average person is good deep down, but can be led astray by their own humanness. We don't need the devil. We've already figured out greed and selfishness and not giving a shit ourselves."

"So you believe that there is no God either? No heaven, no hell?"

"What does it matter? No one really knows the truth. Life could be a game, or a dream, or we could all be a thought in someone's head. We're so willing to believe in the devil as the cause of all the bullshit, but we can't find God anymore because we don't see the beauty in all the bullshit."

"It sounds as if you believe the world needs God but doesn't know where to look sometimes."

"Whatever. Religion isn't something I want to discuss at the moment. Let's talk so I can get the hell out of here and back to Jordan where I belong."

"So tell me how you met Kayden."

"It wasn't an earth shattering moment. I met him at a party, something my friends dragged me to when I would much rather have stayed home. They were convinced I desperately needed a man in my life."

"But you didn't feel that way?"

"At that time I was more interested in my fantasies of having a boyfriend than I was in actually having a boyfriend. I was still disillusioned then though."

"How is that?"

"Come on Farrah. We all know that the thought of marriage scares the shit out of people these days more than it excites them. The divorce rate is terrible and the family court system further destroys the illusion of a forever happy family. I had romantic notions of being swept off my feet by my soul mate then, but it didn't happen like that. I thought it did at first, but I was young and stupid."

"But things were good with Kayden at first?"

"Sure. He was a few years older than me, but it was okay. He was good looking and charming, seemed like good boyfriend material."

"When did your opinions change?"

"A lot of different times. I knew it all along really-everyone did-but I was stubborn until it was almost too late. I could have lost custody of Jordan permanently because of that son-of-a-bitch. And I mean that literally because my ex mother-in-law is a total bitch."

"You were married after being together a relatively short time were you not?"

"Four months. I was pregnant and it seemed like the right thing to do."

"Did you love him?"

Charlotte laughed. "Of course I loved him, but it was a different kind of love. I was always so drawn to him. Even after all the bullshit, it was hard to walk away."

"Different kind of love than what Charlotte?"

"Than real love I guess. What difference does it make now?"

"Have you experienced real love?"

"Of course. Jordan is my whole world."

"The love for a child is different. I'm talking about the love between a man and a woman."

"I'm guessing you know about him too. I don't want to talk about him."

"Who is he Charlotte? I would like to go back to your marriage in a bit, but first tell me about this man."

"No. It hurts too much."

Tears stung her eyes again as the carefully buried memories sprung up. His face flashed through her mind and she closed her eyes tightly, banishing the green of his eyes.

The lighter flicked again and a cigarette flared in the darkness, the tip briefly brightening the room enough to show Charlotte a pair of silvery blue eyes. Strangely familiar eyes.

She racked her brain, trying to remember if Farrah had had blue eyes. But clear memories of the girl she had known when she was twelve alluded her.

"I don't want to talk about Scott. He's gone."

"Why is he gone Charlotte? What happened to Scott?"

"We are not discussing this." Charlotte took a deep breath and then let it out. "You wanted to know about my marriage. So I was pregnant, we were married by a justice of the peace that obviously detested her job. Kayden and his friends spent our wedding night getting drunk and it was somehow my fault that we didn't have sex."

"You sound angry."

Charlotte let out a harsh laugh. "Thoughts of Kayden don't exactly make me feel warm and fuzzy inside."

"But they once did."

"I guess. But then he cheated on me and he abused me. I was lost for so long, even with Jordan."

"How were you lost?"

"I forgot myself when I was with Kayden or stopped trying to figure out who I was or wanted to be. I was a wife and mother and that was it. It would have been okay if Kayden would have been a better husband, if we had been enough for him."

"Have you forgiven Kayden? Have you forgiven yourself for who you were or weren't when you were with him?"

"I'm not sure he deserves my forgiveness. And as for forgiving myself, why would I need to do that?"

"You seem to have problems with not only Kayden during your marriage, but yourself as well. It takes two to make a marriage work and two to make it fail."

"No. It only takes one person's lying and cheating to ruin a marriage."

"Even if that is true, you have to make peace with your own actions during your marriage."

"Peace with what? His actions caused me to hate him, to treat him the way I did before we split up."

"Do you hate the father of your child?"

Charlotte sighed and reached for a cigarette. "I don't exactly hate him anymore. But he ruined our lives, or could have."

"Were your lives ruined after the divorce?"

"Before. Well, not exactly. It could have been worse I suppose, though moving from a house to a shelter and dealing with child protective services and family court wasn't exactly a picnic."

"But you made it through and Jordan never realized the situation you were in."

Charlotte let a half smile touch her face, no longer having the energy to care how the woman knew so much about her life.

"It was okay as long as she knew she was safe and loved and she always knew that. We moved around and had to start over too many times, but all that mattered to her was that we were together."

"Jordan is blessed to have you as a mother."

"Thanks."

"You're quite welcome. Do you feel as if you have made peace with yourself Charlotte?"

"I don't know. I never really thought of myself as a bad person, as someone who would need to do that."

"Everyone has done things or experienced things in their lives that they need to make peace with before moving on."

"I have moved on. Kayden has no custody rights to Jordan and he pays child support when he's in the mood."

"There are different ways to move on."

"Uh huh. I realize that I wasn't a perfect wife, but the majority of the problems in my marriage stemmed from Kayden not keeping his dick in his pants, being irresponsible and smacking me around."

"But the freedom of choice that you mentioned earlier Charlotte, did you not have that very choice many times over the years? To no longer accept Kayden's actions as okay?"

"They weren't okay. That's not the point. It's not as simple as it seems to the people sitting on their high horses, looking down their noses when they probably have worse skeletons in their own closets."

"What skeletons are in your closet Charlotte?"

"Do you want me to cry? The poor battered woman who is so ashamed of what she put up with for two years that she might as well give up? I had a child to take care of and I couldn't lay down and cry. I had to move on, and I did."

"Do you consider yourself as having dealt with your emotions successfully?"

Charlotte snorted. "I can still look at myself in the mirror. Besides, it's not me who was the bad guy. It was Kayden."

"So you did no wrong then?"

"Give me a break. Of course I did. I stayed when he cheated. I stayed when he moved us around on a whim and when he hit me. I stayed until I couldn't take it anymore. And then it was almost too late. CPS had already been called on us when I left him. They took custody of Jordy because I was a victim of domestic violence and she was exposed. Failure to protect. It's a damned good thing I worked my ass off in the two days until I went to court and made sure I had everything in place to get my daughter back. Counseling, parenting classes, meetings for victims of domestic violence, housing lined up. I switched day cares, filed for divorce and a restraining order. When they released Jordy, I splurged and we had fast food for dinner and rented a motel room for the night instead of going directly back to the shelter. It was like waking up from a bad dream. For a while at least."

"So you made the most of a bad situation."

"I did what any parent would. I couldn't let Jordy see me cry, even though most nights it took all I had not to cry myself to sleep."

"You are strong Charlotte."

"Uh huh. I tell myself that, then I think that a truly strong woman would have walked away the first time he hit me or when he moved us from one shithole to another while he was doing drugs, spending half his paycheck at the bar and screwing around the whole time."

"That must have been hard on you."

"Yeah. But it was harder on Jordy. She was so young, but we fought so much and I felt like sometimes that I held on to her too tightly. When she gets older I don't know how I'm going to deal with really letting go."

"Every parent has to let go. Sometimes it's a small thing like a first time with a babysitter or the first day of school. You never truly let go though."

"Do you have kids Farrah?"

"I have a daughter, but she passed away."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It must be terrible."

"It is. Charlotte. I'm sorry to bring this up again, but do you feel as if you've forgiven yourself for staying with Kayden?"

Charlotte sighed. "The support group I went to was halfway useful and half bullshit. It's hard enough being a woman that's been in an abusive relationship and admitting that you stuck around. I can't imagine how hard it must be as the person who committed the abuse, having to explain that to someone else."

"Do you sympathize with Kayden?"

"Ha. It always felt like he blamed me for the abuse and the cheating. We fought so much, but most of the time it was about everything besides what was really wrong."

"Relationships are hard."

"Yeah. But with a guy like Kayden there's always an excuse to act the way he does."

"Do you have contact with Kayden?"

"No. There's no point since he can't see Jordy. There's no restraining order anymore, but he still can't see her."

"I see. Were you angrier with Kayden for his actions during your marriage or with yourself for staying with him?"

"With him. Well maybe with myself sometimes. Had I lost Jordy, I wouldn't have been able to cope. You have to have been in that kind of situation to understand."

"What made you leave Kayden?"

"The nail in the coffin was when I came home that day and found him in bed with another woman. He wasn't apologetic. He was drunk and tried to hit me. I was glad Jordy slept through most of it. I grabbed our stuff and the money I'd saved and we went to the shelter. The social worker showed up a few days later."

"That must have been hard."

"Yes. The hardest time of my life. I was already dealing with so much, trying to keep it together for Jordy, and then she was taken away. I wanted to die, but I knew I had to be even stronger than ever before."

"Did you have support?"

"Not exactly. My family hates Kayden so much that they almost disowned me when I married him. I have friends, mostly old friends from school, but they live far away and couldn't really help."

"After your case was closed and you moved out of the shelter, did life get better for you and Jordan?"

"Mostly. Life was a lot more peaceful at home without Kayden, but Jordy missed her dad. The divorce was hard on all of us."

"You had to appear in family court then?"

"A bunch of times, even after CPS closed the case. It didn't seem like a complicated divorce because of the circumstances, but I guess divorce is never easy."

"I suppose not. When did you meet Scott?"

"I'm not talking about him."

"Charlotte, dealing with your pain is part of the healing process."

"Funny. If your daughter died I'm sure you've heard all the bullshit in the world about dealing with death."

"Have you dealt with Scott's death?"

"Of course I did. It's not like I had known him all my life. We were only together six months."

"How did Jordan feel about Scott?"

"She adored him."

"Were you in love with Scott?"

"I really don't want to discuss this. It has nothing to do with my marriage or my daughter. I didn't meet him until after my divorce was final."

"Where did you meet?"

"Uh uh. You aren't going to make me talk about this."

"Was losing Scott more painful than your divorce?"

"Stop. I said no more."

"The sooner we get through this, the sooner you can get back to Jordan."

"Sure. Don't know why I should trust you. I haven't seen your face and you know way too much personal stuff about my life."

"You will see my face when you're ready to accept it."

"Blah. Are you monstrous or something? I don't really care. Surface looks don't mean anything. You keeping me here against my will is way worse than whatever you look like."

"That may not be true at the moment Charlotte. Did you talk to anyone after Scott died?"

"No. Like I told you, I dealt with it like I dealt with everything else."

"So Scott meant little to you?"

"No. I never said that. How can you be more monstrous than keeping me here? Can't you turn a light on? This darkness is driving me crazy."

"In time Charlotte. How did you meet Scott?"

"I met him at work. I had taken a job in a coffee shop. He started coming in a few days after my divorce was final."

"Were you attracted to him?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Try Charlotte."

"Ugh. He came into the store when it was dead. I looked up and thought he was cute. No big deal. He smiled at me though, and I know this sounds dumb, but it was like my eyes suddenly saw him differently. I felt like cupid shot me in the ass with a love arrow. Damn that sounds ridiculous."

"So it was love at first sight?"

"I don't believe in that crap. It's all hormonal."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. I felt things for Scott way too quickly. I should have known it was too good to be true."

The green of his eyes flashed through her mind again. She banished them like usual and reached for a cigarette.

"Are we done with this now?"

"Not quite. How did your relationship with Scott progress?"

"Like any relationship I guess. It was hard sometimes because of work and Jordy, but things were going great until the accident."

"Were you and Scott planning a life together?"

"How is this relevant? He's dead and it doesn't matter anymore."

"Was there anything else that happened around the time that Scott passed away?"

"No."

"You're lying Charlotte."

"Tell me the truth then."

"What about the baby Charlotte?"

"Who the hell are you?"

"This isn't about me. It's about getting you back to your daughter."

"Why do I have to go through this?"

Tears stung her eyes and Scott's gentle face came to mind. She closed her eyes and let herself feel it for a moment. She had loved Scott madly. The world had stood still when she was in his arms. When they made love, it had felt like a little piece of heaven on earth.

Losing him and then losing the baby she hadn't had a chance to tell him about had almost broken her. Jordan was the only thing that had kept her sane.

"Scott meant a great deal to you didn't he?"

"Yes dammit. I loved him so much I could hardly stand it sometimes. I used to think that God had given me him to make up for all the other bullshit. Then he was gone. It wasn't fair."

"Did you plan on marrying Scott?"

"We talked about it. Talked about getting a place together. My bed felt so empty without him. It still does."

"Did Scott know about the baby?"

"No. I didn't get a chance to tell him because I barely knew myself before he died. It felt like I had been given a chance at real happiness and it was taken away. Without Jordy, I might have taken my own life."

"How would you cope if you lost Jordan?"

"I don't want to think about it. Can we be done with this now? Please."

"For now. What happened after your accident?"

"I don't know. Please just take me to Jordan. I am done with this bullshit."

"Were you injured in the accident?"

"Yes. No. I thought so, but I feel fine."

"What happened to Jordan Charlotte?"

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

"Remember. It's as easy or as hard as you make it."

"But I can't. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"I'm going to stress this once again. You are the only thing that is keeping you away from Jordan. Remember the accident, take as much time as you need to deal with what happened and then you can see Jordan again."

"What do you mean deal with what happened?"

"You know Charlotte."

"I don't. Please just tell me so we can be done with this ridiculous game you're playing."

"I can't tell you. You have to let yourself remember. I'll give you as much time as you need."

"No. Screw this. Let me the hell out of here."

The room suddenly brightened. A halo of light appeared in front of the chair. The image that was suddenly spotlighted stopped Charlotte in her tracks.

The woman in the chair was a mirror image of Charlotte. The voice, the silvery blue eyes that seemed so familiar, were her own.

"What the hell is going on here? Who are you?"

The light slowly faded and the room returned to darkness.

"Believe your eyes Charlotte. You tell me what you see, what you hear."

"You look like me. You sound like me. I am crazy aren't I?"

"No. You are simply having a hard time coping with what happened to you."

"It was only a car accident. Accidents happen every day and not everyone develops a split personality or whatever the hell it is that you are."

"I'm not in your imagination, not exactly. I am exactly what you see."

"That makes sense. Wait, no it doesn't. Duh. I can't be me and be talking to myself, well hallucinating and actually seeing me talk to myself. Damn, I did finally lose it. Just give me whatever medication you need to straighten my head out and let me out of here. Jordan needs me."

"Medication won't cure you Charlotte. You have to accept what happened."

"Are you me?"

Charlotte's head was filled with a jumble of confused thoughts even more than before. None of what was happening seemed possible. One thought was constant in her mind though. She had to get back to Jordan.

"Yes and no. It's hard to explain. Think of me as a guide of sorts."

"Wonderful. Now guide me to my daughter."

"You will be with Jordan when you're ready."

"I'm ready now."

"If you were neither of us would be here."

"This is getting really tiring. Can't you be straight with me? Is that too much to ask?"

"You have to be honest with yourself. Accept what happened to you and what happened to Jordan."

"I don't know what happened to Jordan." Tears threatened to spill over again. "I just want my baby back. Please."

"Charlotte, do you remember how I answered when you asked if I had children?"

"You said your daughter had passed away."

"Yes."

The silence stretched on until Charlotte didn't think she could stand it anymore.

"And?"

"Think Charlotte."

"You're me, but you're not me. Your daughter is dead. Mine isn't."

"Charlotte."

"Yes?"

"What happened to Jordan?"

Charlotte wanted to scream. "I don't know."

"You do."

"No."

The woman sighed. The light flashed briefly across her face again and then went out. Charlotte caught the pain in the silvery eyes.

"Jordan is dead Charlotte. She lost her life in the accident."

"No. You take me to her right now. I want to see my daughter."

"As you wish. You're not making this easy on either of us."

It played out like a scene on a TV screen. Light appeared and Charlotte saw Jordan. Her beautiful little girl was laughing. The makeshift screen widened, but what Charlotte saw was too much for her already stressed mind to handle. She blacked out.

When she came to again, the room brightened. The woman in the chair was studying her, puffing on a cigarette once again.

"I'm sorry Charlotte. You left me with no choice."

Charlotte silently accepted the offered cigarette. She lit it with a shaky hand, not meeting the other woman's eyes. What she had seen was too much, even if there was no way it could be real.

They sat in silence for several minutes, then the woman spoke up "Charlotte."

"What?"

"What you saw was real."

"None of this can be real."

"It's not real in the way you were taught to accept reality, no."

"So I lost my mind then huh? My daughter died and I'm talking to myself and seeing things that are supposed to comfort my broken brain."

"Not exactly. What do you remember about the accident?"

"This again. I told you."

"Go through it again. Step by step."

"We were in an accident. Hit head on and from behind. I guess I blacked out and blocked what happened to Jordan."

"So you accept Jordan's death?"

"I don't know. I don't remember losing her, but I can understand why my mind wouldn't want to deal with it."

"There are other reasons you don't remember Charlotte."

"Of course there are. Wait. You told me you would take me to Jordan. Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't."

"You obviously did. If my daughter is dead and with my dead boyfriend and Nana Julie, how can you take me to her?"

The scene that had played out with Jordan laughing and happy with not only Nana Julie, but with Scott, had been what had been too much for Charlotte to take.

"Time doesn't exist in the same way here Charlotte, but we both know where you should be and it's not here."

"No kidding."

"So deal with it. Accept how the accident happened."

"Is going on without her not bad enough?"

"Look Charlotte, I've tried to be patient with you. But you're not only trapping yourself here, you're trapping me here with you until you accept the truth."

"What truth? It was raining and my tires slipped right when the other car went out of control."

"Is that how it happened?"

"Yes. I guess. That's what I remember. Or bits and pieces anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes dammit."

The room darkened once again.

"Hey."

The woman remained silent, so a frustrated Charlotte stayed silent too. The room was dark and silent until it brightened once again with the same illusion of a TV screen where she had seen Jordan previously.

This time though, the scene that played out was different. It was like watching a movie of her own life.

Charlotte saw herself and Jordan in her old beat up car. The rain had really started coming down and the fact that the windshield wipers needed to be replaced didn't help with the visibility. They reached the stoplight three blocks from Jordan's preschool. As the accident played out, Charlotte sat back in stunned silence.

Though her memory of the accident was still cloudy, what she had seen was not how she remembered it. She saw herself try to make it through the light when it was turning red. The car behind her tried to make it as well. The crash happened when Charlotte hit a red car head on and the car behind her ran into the back of her car. She had been the cause of the accident.

Charlotte's mind slipped a little again and she went into a dreamlike state for an indeterminate period of time. When she came back to herself, she looked right into the silvery blue of her own eyes.

"Charlotte."

"What?"

"It was an accident. Bad weather, everyone in a hurry. It could have happened to anyone. It's not your fault."

Charlotte lit a cigarette. Her emotions were running on overdrive and she didn't know how to handle them.

"It was my fault."

"Look at me Charlotte."

Charlotte let her eyes drift back to the woman's face.

"For one second do you believe you would purposefully take your daughter's life?"

"Of course not."

"Then accept it. Accept that you made a mistake that unfortunately happened to end Jordan's life."

"It's not acceptable."

"How do I say this without making it worse?"

"Just say it. It doesn't matter now. I'm alone and always will be. I don't know what I did to deserve any of this, but I guess whatever it was, it was a doozy."

"Do you believe in God Charlotte? In heaven and hell?"

"You tell me. Since you are me."

"Please Charlotte."

"Why should I believe in God now? I dealt with a bullshit marriage, got my life together and then lost not only the love of my life but our baby only days after I found out I was pregnant. Now I killed Jordan. There is no God, no hope left."

"We all make choices in our lives and yours led you here. But what is keeping you here is you. Only you and your refusal to deal with not only Jordan's death, but the death of Scott and your child."

"Don't you get it? Nothing matters anymore."

"It does Charlotte."

"No. Without Jordan nothing matters."

The woman sighed. "Get some rest. We'll talk again when you wake up."

"I don't want to wake up."

"Charlotte."

"I'm not a child. Leave me alone."

She turned over on the bed and closed her eyes, shutting everything out.

When she awoke, Charlotte had no idea how much time had passed. The room was dimly lit, but she could feel the woman's eyes on her. She turned away and reached for a cigarette, wondering how she was going to make her way out of this living nightmare.

"I'm sorry Charlotte. The human mind is a remarkable thing. Sometimes when the pain is too much, we convince ourselves that certain things didn't happen."

"Yeah. So how am I really going to get out of here?"

"It's as simple as letting the door open."

"Great. So I'm going to be trapped here forever."

"Only if you wish to be. Let's talk more Charlotte."

Charlotte sighed, but she let the woman lead her back into conversation with gentle and sometimes not so gentle questioning.

It might have taken hours. It might have taken days or years for all Charlotte knew. She cried. She finally gave up and let it all out, saying things she'd thought would never be said.

When the conversation had died, both women sat back and lit a cigarette.

"Charlotte, I believe that you have taken the steps to free us. Try the door."

Charlotte crossed to the door, a feeling of expectation rising. But the door still wouldn't open. She cursed under her breath and returned to the bed.

"Why are we still here? I'm going to be stuck here forever aren't I? Punished for killing my own child."

"It was my understanding that once you had broken through and accepted what happened, we would be free."

"Who wrote those rules?"

"It's complicated."

"Of course it is. All of this is unreal already, so just tell me."

"When your soul was released from your body, you remained behind to watch your daughter take her dying breaths and to offer her what comfort you could. Jordan's soul moved on. It carried no real guilt or despair, so your daughter went where she belonged right away. This room and our "therapy" sessions are your creation. You passed minutes before Jordan did and stayed behind to watch over her as mothers do. But your guilt and unresolved feelings have trapped us both here until you have successfully dealt with them."

"Why should I believe that? How do I know that I'm even really dead?"

"Have you had an urge to use the bathroom or been hungry? When you believe you are sleeping, it's simply your mind shutting everything out."

Charlotte bit her lip. "Who are you really and why do you look like me? Am I in hell?"

"Hell doesn't exist in the way you think it does. Some souls are kept behind to deal with their unresolved earthly deeds. How long they exist in their own locked rooms depends only on them. Others like you trap themselves because they can't forgive themselves for actions they've taken while among the living. I am a soul that has been given your memories to assist you in the process of moving on. I look like you because you accept it. I could look like anyone or anything."

"So hell is kind of like prison."

"Not exactly. And you're not in hell Charlotte."

"Then why does it feel like it?"

"This is your creation. Let go and open the door. Move on. Some very important people are waiting for you."

Tears stung her eyes. She angrily wiped them away, feeling helpless and alone. She still doubted at least some of what the woman had said and had no idea how she was going to release herself from the predicament she was in.

Though the woman had said she wasn't really sleeping when she thought she was, Charlotte had had enough. She turned away and buried herself under the covers, closing her eyes.

When she opened her eyes again, the woman was gone. Her heart beat fast as she crossed to the door once again. It seemed to stick at first, but then the knob turned and the door opened with a gentle creak.

Charlotte looked out cautiously. Before her was a long hallway, lit up with a bright white light.

She took her first step into the hallway, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Then she shook her head at herself and thought, I'm finally free.

The hallway seemed never ending. When she had begun to wonder if she would ever reach the end, she saw a door up ahead.

She crossed quickly to the door. It was an ordinary looking door. Charlotte had no idea what was behind it, but she figured it had to be better than the emptiness of where she had been.

Charlotte opened the door and saw before her a meadow filled with flowers. Every color of the rainbow was represented. She didn't think she'd ever seen anything so beautiful until she looked into her daughter's eyes.

"Mommy." Jordan threw herself at Charlotte. "We've been waiting for you for so long."

The feeling of coming home had never been as strong as it was when Charlotte took Jordan into her arms.

"Oh baby, I missed you. I am so sorry baby girl."

"It's okay Mommy. Nana Julie and Scott have been taking real good care of me."

Charlotte accepted her grandmother's embrace.

"We were worried about you darling."

"I was worried about me for a while too."

Charlotte laughed and turned her attention to the man she loved, the man she'd thought she had lost forever. She felt almost shy as she let herself get lost in his eyes for a moment.

"Hello beautiful."

"Hi."

Scott kissed her and Charlotte knew that the darkness would not plague her again.
Take a sneak peek at Misty Reigenborn's other short story collection This Song Reminds Me of You!

A Better Man

He looked at her as she stood in the doorway of their bedroom. She wouldn't look at him. She knew that he was going to try to talk her into staying.

As she turned to leave he touched her back. "Del, please. We need to talk about this."

Delphina didn't turn. "Kiefer we've had this discussion before."

He sighed. "So I guess this time you're really leaving huh?"

Delphina wanted to groan. It seemed pretty obvious that she was leaving. Her bags were packed and she was ready to transfer everything to her car. "I think that's kind of a dumb question Kie."

"Give me five minutes babe. Please. Is three years not worth five more minutes of your life?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I have an apartment and a job waiting for me. I start work the day after tomorrow. I have to go."

"How long have you been planning this?"

"What difference does it make? I can't do this anymore."

"I love you Delphina. I can be a better man for you. I promise."

"I think that promise is a little too late. I'm going to go now."

"Baby please. You're breaking my heart."

"I have to go."

"Can I call you?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. Goodbye Kiefer."

Delphina pulled out the handle on her rolling suitcase and slung her duffel bag over her shoulder. She took two steps out of the door. She heard the flick of his lighter as he lit a cigarette.

"Del, wait. At least let me help you take your stuff out. You'll let me do that much won't you?"

Delphina sighed. "I can do it Kiefer. I think that we need to make a clean break this time. It's for the best."

"Del I'm so sorry."

Delphina said nothing. She rolled her suitcase out the door and walked down the hall and through the living room. He got to the door ahead of her and opened it for her. She finally looked at him. His brown eyes looked wet. She stifled an urge to bite her lip and instead rolled her suitcase out the door. She had never seen Kiefer cry, not even when his grandmother had died, and they had been close. But she couldn't let it get to her now she thought, or she would let him talk her into staying like he had all of the other times she had decided to leave him.

He followed her to her car. She popped the trunk and shoved her suitcase and bag inside. The slam of the trunk seemed very loud to her. It sounded almost final. She was suddenly terrified. She had never lived by herself before. When she'd left home she'd went straight to college and lived in the dorms. Then she'd lived with her sister for a while. Then she'd met Kiefer. They'd moved in together two weeks after they met.

He put his arms around her from behind. She tried to ignore the fact that her head was at the perfect level for him to rest his chin on. She tried to ignore the way he smelled and the feel of his arms around her. She tried to ignore the fact that he was the first man that she had really loved. She made herself think about the lying and cheating instead, and the nights that he hadn't bothered to come home.

She pulled away from him and looked up at him with ice in her blue eyes. "Stop it. I am leaving. There is nothing you can say or do to make me change my mind."

'I'll get down on my knees and beg you in the dirty parking lot of our crappy apartment building. I'll pay all of the bills for a whole year and you can do whatever you want with your money. We'll get married. You can have a baby and stay home and take care of it. I'll get a better job. Hell I'll get two better jobs if I have to. I will do anything Del, I swear. Just please don't do this to me. I feel like somebody stabbed a knife through my heart."

Delphina looked up at Kiefer. He was six two with dark hair and dark eyes. He had muscles and tattoos. Her sister called him the personification of a bad boy. He smoked too much and sometimes he drank way too much. He'd cheated on her for the first time two days after they'd moved in together. He'd get drunk and come out of nowhere and tell her some story about a woman that he'd been with since they'd been together. Sometimes, she thought she hated him much more than she loved him.

"I'm breaking your heart? Do you know how many damned times you've broken mine? There is no comparison Kiefer. You've made me feel worthless for way too long."

"Baby I never meant to make you feel like that. You're smart and you're so beautiful. I know that you deserve a better man, but I promise you that I can be that man. I can't make all of the bad stuff that I did in the past go away, but I can give you a better tomorrow. Please Del. Just give me one last chance."

Delphina pushed the button to unlock her car. "No. I've given you more chances than you deserved already. Goodbye Kiefer. Have a nice life."

She got behind the wheel of her car. Before she could shut the door, he stuck his foot in the way. She gave him her dirtiest look. "Move your foot. Now. This is not up for discussion."

Kiefer sighed, but he did move his foot. She slammed the door and started the car. She put her seatbelt on and chanced one last glance at him. He made the motion for her to roll the window down. She sighed as she pushed the button.

"What?"

"I want you to know that I love you. I'll always love you. You were the only really good woman I ever had. I fucked it up like I always fuck everything up."

"You don't mess everything up Kiefer. You'll do fine." She gave him a tired smile that she didn't feel. "You're hot. You'll find another woman in no time."

Kiefer shook his head. "I don't want another woman."

Delphina figured that he'd have a woman in his bed by the end of the night and probably have another moved in by the end of the week.

"Goodbye Kiefer."

She put the car into gear.

"Wait. Just one last thing."

She sighed. "What Kiefer? Make it quick please."

"Don't you love me anymore?"

"It's not that Kiefer. I just can't put myself through the heartache of being with you. It's tearing me up inside. Now I really have to go. I'm already late getting on the road."

Kiefer let out a huge sigh. "You don't have to go. I'll go."

"No. I already have everything worked out. Goodbye." Before he could say another word, she put the car back into gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

The drive was not fun. Her destination was six hours away. Kiefer wouldn't stop calling her. Or at least she assumed it was Kiefer. Her phone rang so many times that she'd turned it off and shoved it into the glove box.

When she pulled up to her new apartment building, she let out a groan. She'd figured that it would be a dump with the price, but the place looked like it would blow over in a strong wind. She got out of her car and stretched. Her back hurt, and she briefly let herself think of how good it had felt when Kiefer had given her a massage. He had always been able to work all of the kinks out of her muscles. She sighed. She knew that she needed to stop thinking about him. Where thoughts of him had once brought her immense joy, they now brought her nothing but pain.

She opened the door marked "manager". An elderly woman was sitting behind the desk. She looked up, and stuck the pencil she had been doing what looked like a crossword puzzle with into her frizzy white bun.

"How can I help you?"

"I'm Delphina Brooks. We spoke on the phone. You still have the apartment available don't you?"

The woman nodded and her glasses slid down her nose. "Yes ma'am. Sure do. Rent's $450, $225 deposit. We cover $50 towards the electricity. You go over that it's added on to your next month's rent. No drugs, no loud parties, no prostitution, no dogs. You have a cat the deposit is $300 and it had better know how to use a litter box."

Delphina wanted to groan. She had a feeling that her new apartment might be even worse than she'd thought it would be by looking at the outside.

"My shift starts at six o'clock in the morning. I certainly won't be having any wild parties when I have to work the next morning. And I don't know anyone here."

The woman pulled a key off of a hook. "Pretty girl like you is never short of male attention for long. You're more than welcome to have visitors. They stay more than a few days, they're considered to live here. The rent goes up by $50 a month."

Delphina shook her head. "That won't be a problem."

The woman gave her a look and then came around the desk. "Yep. My daughter, she's even prettier than you are. Some people might not think so, but I'm her mama so I gotta think so. When you got a pretty face and more than half a brain between your ears, you gotta make damned sure you've got a heart of steel. Men will use you and abuse you and then leave you by the side of the road. You just hope that you don't have a baby growin' inside of you then. 'Cause a man that will treat you like shit and walk away like it was nothin', well, it ain't gonna be no skin off of his back not to pay you child support now is it?"

"Um, I guess not." Delphina got the feeling that the woman's daughter had children that didn't see their fathers and she didn't receive child support for.

"Second floor, all the way to the right."

"Okay."

Delphina opened the door. The manager shut it and then locked it. The woman walked in a stuttering gait that felt painfully slow to Del. She felt like she could have run around the parking lot five times by the time they made it up the stairs.

The woman unlocked the door and pushed it open. She flipped a light switch. Delphina took one step inside and wanted to walk right back out. She hadn't grown up in luxurious surroundings, and the apartment she'd lived in with Kiefer certainly hadn't been high class, but this apartment looked to her like it should have been on the cover of bad housekeeping.

The living room carpet was a rusty brown color. There were stains that looked like bleach. She wondered what had stained the carpet that someone had wanted to bleach out. The walls were painted an off white color and it didn't look like much care had been taken when the job was done. The air smelled like someone had smoked two packs of cigarettes a day for three years straight and had never bothered to open a window. She walked into the kitchen and saw a fridge that looked like it belonged in the 1980's. The microwave on the counter looked like it belonged in roughly the same decade as the fridge. The kitchen table was small, with a beat up chair with cracked upholstery. When she walked into the bathroom, she saw that the shower curtain was paper thin and the tub was filthy. The toilet seat was sitting crookedly.

The manager cleared her throat. "I know it's not the greatest, but it's a roof and the rent is manageable even if you make minimum wage. You put your furniture and some personal touches in here, it won't be so bad."

Delphina hid a sigh. "I actually don't have any furniture." She turned back towards the bedroom.

The carpet in there was a yellow color that reminded her of the color her nephew's poo had been when he was a newborn. There was a dresser, but the drawers were mismatched and it looked like it was on its last legs.

"There's a thrift store up the road a bit. They're gonna be closed now though."

"Oh. I'll take it I guess."

The manager laughed. "Don't sound so enthused girl. Whatever is goin' on if your life right now, just remember that it's not that bad. You woke up this morning didn't you?"

"I did."

They left the apartment and walked back down the stairs. Once they were back in the office, Delphina handed the woman her driver's license. While she made a copy on a copy machine that it looked like it belonged in an even more bygone decade than the furniture in her apartment, Delphina filled out a simple one-page application form.

Once her license was back in hand, she dug her wallet out of her purse and counted out the money to move into the apartment. She felt a little like screaming when the woman had to count it three times. Finally, when she was satisfied that it was the right amount, the manager handed her a single sheet of paper that listed the property rules and the key to the apartment.

"Thank you."

"You have any problems with your apartment, let me know. The maintenance guy is slow, but he does a good job. Grocery's stores up four blocks on the left. Discount store up another two blocks from there."

"Thank you."

"Yep. Take care Delphina. That's a real pretty name."

"Thanks. I'll let you know if I have any problems."

Delphina left the office and went to her car. She lugged her bags up the stairs and took another look around. There was a part of her that wanted to run back to Kiefer already. But she knew that she needed to stand on her own two feet and that she couldn't let him break her heart again.

She opened the window as far as it would go, which wasn't far. She sat down on the chair and made a list for the store. Air freshener and scented candles were high on her list. It had driven her crazy when Kiefer had smoked inside.

Her trip to the store took forever, and it was full dark by the time she got back to the apartment. She had picked up an air mattress. She hoped that it would only have to serve her for one night. She had a feeling it wasn't going to be very comfortable.

Once she had lit a scented oil candle and set up her bed, she felt a little better. She made herself a light dinner and then plugged in her laptop and booted it up, signing onto her mobile broadband internet connection. She discovered that her email was flooded with messages from Kiefer. She sent everything from him straight to the trash and then was left with some spam and a message from her sister. She opened the letter and found that Kiefer had called and begged Leanna to talk her into giving him another chance.

Delphina sighed. Lee had never liked Kiefer. She had told her little sister that he was bad news the second she had laid eyes on him. But the rest of the letter sounded too much like an "I told you so", so she sent it to the trash too.

She slept fitfully that night. It wasn't that she hadn't had nights apart from Kiefer in the past three years. She couldn't count the nights he hadn't come home, when he'd been out drinking with friends all night or had been with another woman. She just felt out of sorts and it was about more than her break up. She wondered if she was getting sick.

The next morning, she went to the thrift store. She was lucky enough to find a bed and a couch that were both in good condition and reasonably priced. She bought curtains and pictures for the walls. Once the furniture was delivered and the pictures had been hung, she admitted that the apartment felt a little less dreary.

Her first day at her new job, she was overwhelmed. It was training, but she already felt like she was in over her head. She was scared that she was going to fail. She cried a little as she drove home. Kiefer had stopped calling her, and even his emails were coming less frequently. She had a feeling it wouldn't take him too long to move on. She didn't know whether the thought made her sad or comforted her anymore.

Six weeks later, she finished training. She felt better than she had before, but still wasn't sure that she'd be able to handle the job. It was technical support at a call center, and while it certainly wasn't brain surgery, and it paid much better than her last job had, she still wasn't sure that she would make it. She hadn't made any friends in her training class, though three guys had hit on her on an almost daily basis.

Her first scheduled day on the call center floor, she woke up in the morning and immediately rushed to the bathroom to throw up. She wondered if it was nerves or if she had caught a bug. As she flushed the toilet the realization that she had missed her period hit her. She banged her hand on the toilet seat.

"No damn it. Not now. If there is a God you cannot do this to me."

She'd been dumb enough to have sex with Kiefer on the night before she'd left him. And he had been out of condoms. She wasn't on birth control because she could never remember to take the pills and they hadn't been able to afford any other form of birth control for her without insurance.

Delphina laid her head on the closed toilet seat and cried for a good fifteen minutes. Then she got up and took a shower and got ready for work. Her day did not go well. Every other customer she spoke with had a problem that was more complicated than her step by step screen prompts or wanted to speak with a supervisor.

She wanted to run her car into a tree by the time she left for the day. She stopped at a drug store and bought a pregnancy test. It took her two hours after she got home to find the courage to take it. When she saw the results, she cried for half an hour. It was positive.

She went to the bedroom and unplugged her phone from the charger. She took a deep breath and then let it out. She dialed Kiefer's cell phone number.

He answered before the first ring was through. "Del. Did you change your mind? Oh baby, I have been so lost without you."

Delphina bit her lip and brushed her hair back over her shoulder. "Kiefer I need to tell you something."

"What is it babe? You can tell me anything. Please just tell me that you are coming home. I know that I haven't always been there for you. Not during the bad times or even always the good. I know that I've been a real asshole and missed your birthday and that I lied and cheated and did a whole bunch of really messed up shit. But I promise you that I will be there for you from now on if you'll just give me the chance."

"This isn't about us. Well, in a way it is, but I didn't call you to tell you that I want to come home. I'm doing fine here. My paychecks are almost twice as big as at my old job. The apartment's not too bad."

"Don't you miss me even a little?"

Delphina sighed. "I didn't say that." She decided that she needed to just say it or he was going to have her talking in circles all night long. "I'm having a baby. I mean, we're having a baby."

"Huh? How can you be pregnant with my kid? I haven't even seen you in six weeks let alone had sex with you."

"Kiefer, don't play stupid. We obviously made a baby on the last night we were together. If you don't want to be a part of the child's life, that's up to you. I'm not going to keep you away, but I'm not going to fight you for child support or anything like that."

"Wait a minute Del. We made a baby and you still won't think about giving me another chance? I think that the kid deserves to have two parents don't you? I know I sure as hell didn't appreciate growing up without a father."

"You didn't listen to a damned thing I said like usual. I said you can play daddy."

"Huh uh. I'm not just gonna play daddy. I want to be a real dad. I want you to marry me. I quit drinking. I'm trying to quit smoking, but it's really hard. I can come up there. I sorta already have a job offer there."

"Kiefer."

"What? I miss you. I love you Del. I'll be the man that you deserve. I found a house for us to rent. It's gotta be better than that shithole that you're living in. I saw your car in the lot the day I went there for my job interview."

"No Kiefer. You are not coming here."

"Why the hell not? This job is a really good job. We can have a better life Del. You, me and the baby."

Delphina sighed. "You can come here, but we are not getting back together. I don't care what you say. You talk a good game, but you never live up to your promises."

"People change. When you walked out on me babe, I looked in the mirror and I saw this fuckup looking back at me. I've screwed up a lot of shit in my life Del, but never anything that was really worth a damn. Nothing that really mattered to me. You matter to me. I'm serious about wanting to marry you. I bought you a ring. I don't know if it's the right size though. Your sister wouldn't tell me. She made her husband get on the phone. He told me to stop bugging her."

"You shouldn't have done that Kiefer. I hope you can take it back."

"I don't wanna take it back. I bought it for you. Please Del. I'm just a broken down empty shell of a man without you."

"Kiefer, I can't do this. Especially when I'm pregnant. I can't let myself depend on you again. You always end up letting me down."

"I know baby, and I'm sorry. If I take the job, I start next week. Maybe you might change your mind by then."

"Yeah right."

"Del, I am serious. Why can't we give it one last try? I know you miss me."

"It doesn't matter if I miss you. That's not the point. I have to go. I have to work at six o'clock in the morning and I've been really tired lately."

"It's seven o'clock at night Del. Are you okay? Are you sure it's not more than being pregnant? Have you been to the doctor yet? I get insurance with this job. It's got really good coverage too."

"I don't care about your insurance Kie. I'm hanging up now."

Delphina pushed end on her phone. She wanted to throw it against the wall when it rang almost immediately after she'd hung up. She closed her eyes briefly. You did what you needed to, she told herself. You told him.

She didn't feel like she slept at all that night. Luckily, her next day at work was easier and it passed quickly. Kiefer had decided that it was okay to call her again. He called ten times and left nine messages before she went to sleep that night.

The next Monday Kiefer was waiting for her when she got home from work. She groaned. She tried to pretend that she hadn't seen him, but he was at her side seconds after she got out of her car.

"Hi," he said.

She looked up at him. "Hi."

"You're beautiful."

Delphina sighed. "Don't do this Kiefer. It's going to be hard enough as it having a baby together."

He reached a hand out towards her, but stopped when she gave him a look and shoved his hand in his pocket instead. "It doesn't have to be hard. Come on, I want to show you this house. It's rent to own. We can afford it too. You won't even have to go back to work after you have the baby."

"I don't want to see it. I don't care."

"So you're gonna raise a kid in this shithole?" He snorted as he gestured to the rundown apartment building.

"I'll find another place." She turned away from him. It was starting to hit her how much she had missed him. She wanted to kick her own ass when she caught the scent of his cologne. It was affecting her like it always had. She wanted to pull him to her and smell him.

She turned back towards him. "You shaved." She reached out and brushed her hand over his face. "You look so young. I bet they card you when you buy cigarettes."

He chuckled and put his hand over hers. "I quit two days ago."

She took her hand back. "Oh."

"Please baby. Just look at the house. You don't have to decide today. I'll give you all the time you need."

He put his arm around her shoulder and she left it there. "You're so tense Del. You should let me give you a massage."

Delphina shook her head. "No way. We both know what happens when you give me a massage."

Kiefer grinned. "It was always pretty damned good though wasn't it?"

Delphina gave him a dirty look and pulled away from him. "So what if we had good sex? It doesn't mean anything. I'm willing to bet you had good sex with plenty of other women while we were together. Hell, I know you did. You were an asshole and told me about it half the time."

Kiefer frowned. "Do you really have to remind me of shit like that? I'm trying to be a better man for you."

"Be a better man for yourself. I'll look at your stupid house. Then you're going to go away and leave me alone."

"Del, you're being unreasonable."

"I am not. You tore my heart out and stomped on it for three years."

"Everybody deserves a second chance. We're having a baby." Kiefer reached out his hand and laid it gently over her stomach. "My child is growing inside of you."

She pushed his hand away. "I gave you a second chance. I gave you a third chance and a fourth chance and a damned twentieth chance. I think that's enough. Let's go. I'll follow you."

"Why don't we go in my truck?"

"I don't want to ride with you."

Kiefer smiled. "I forgot that the way I smell drives you crazy."

"Shut up." There was no way she was going to tell him that he smelled even better now that he didn't smell like cigarette smoke.

She opened her car door. "Go. I'll follow you."

Kiefer sighed. "Fine."

He walked back to his truck. She had always found his truck to be almost comical. It was old and painted black with a neon green stripe on it. His friends had called it his UFO truck.

She watched him get into his truck and then followed him out of the parking lot. He pulled up in front of on off white house with red shutters a few minutes later. He grinned widely at her as he opened her car door for her.

"Pretty nice huh?"

She offered him a half smile. The yard was well kept, and the chain link fence was in good shape. The paint job on both the inside and the outside of her apartment seemed even worse now. "Sure. What's the inside look like?"

He held up a key. "I'll show you. I paid to move in today. My friends are helping me get the rest of my stuff moved in over the weekend."

"That should be fun. Are they going to let you pay them in beer?"

"My friends aren't that bad. Okay, so maybe they are. I'll make new friends here. Better friends that aren't just drinking buddies." He held out his hand. "Come on."

She shook her head. Being this close to him again was getting to her. When she was just listening to his voice on the phone, she could pretend that she hadn't missed him. When she was beside him, and could catch the scent of his earthy cologne when he moved, it drove her crazy. It had never made sense to her that the cologne smelled so good on him. When he'd been out and had let her smell it at the store, it hadn't smelled good to her. But when he put it on, it made her want to crawl up into his lap and turn her head into his neck and just breathe in his scent.

"Can't you just give a little Del?"

"I'm looking at your damned house aren't I?"

"Yeah." He opened the gate. She followed him inside the yard and shut the gate. She stood on the porch as he unlocked the door.

When he pushed the door open, she decided that she liked her apartment even less. The carpet was a nice midnight blue color and it was springy, not worn down as if a thousand pairs of feet had walked over it for years. The living room was good sized. There was a large window that was without blinds or a curtain at the moment, so she could see that it offered a nice view of the front yard. The walls had been painted off white, but the job was much more carefully done than it had been at her apartment.

She held back a sigh as she followed him into the kitchen. The kitchen table from their apartment was already set up. The cabinets were in good shape, and the counters were spotless. The stove looked relatively new, as did the fridge. The tile was a blue color with veins of green through it that complemented the color of the living room carpet.

He led her back to the bedroom. His suitcase and older than the hills duffel bag were in the closet. There was a new looking dresser and a curtain on the window but no other furniture. The bathroom was clean and the shower had a nice sliding door, with a good sized tub.

She was silent as she followed him to the second bedroom. The walls were sky blue. The shade was close to the color of her eyes.

"This would be the baby's room."

"Kiefer."

"Even if you don't want to move back in with me, the kid would need a room here."

Delphina sighed. "Yeah." She turned to leave the room.

He touched her arm. "Wait."

"What?"

She turned back to him. He pulled a velvet covered box out of his pocket. She closed her eyes and then opened them again as he popped open the box. She didn't want to look at it. She didn't like to think of all of the times he'd promised to marry her before.

"Del, aren't you even going to look at it?"

"Why? We can't get married. I don't want to be the laughingstock of town because I was dumb enough to marry a guy who doesn't bother to pretend that he doesn't stick his penis anywhere he wants to."

"I haven't been with anyone since you left."

"How dumb do you think I am? You're a sex addict. If we went more than a few days without having sex, you went looking for it somewhere else. Even when we were doing it all the time, you still looked for it elsewhere."

"There was one woman. But that was right after you left me. I was drunk for three days straight Del. She didn't mean anything. I can't look at a woman anymore without comparing her to you. I love you. I want to be with you."

She turned away from him. She had made the mistake of looking at the ring. It was very pretty. The styling wasn't modern, but she didn't like much modern jewelry. It looked old and romantic, like something that had been passed down in a family for generations. She wondered briefly where he had found it before she told herself to shut the hell up in her head.

"I don't want to be with you."

He slid his hands up and down her arms. It sent shivers down her spine. "I think you're lying."

She moved away from him. "So what? There is a sensible part of my brain and an emotional one. The emotional part of me is what kept me with you for so long. I do love you, but I can't be with you anymore. It hurts too much."

"It doesn't have to hurt Del. I'm never gonna be perfect, but I promise that I will be a better man. I want to be a good husband, a good father."

"I want you to be a good father. But you're going to have to find yourself another wife."

Kiefer sighed. "Can we compromise?"

"No."

"Women. I will back off. But I want you to know that if you decide you want me back, I'll be waiting for you."

"Kiefer. Ah, never mind. I'm not going to bother to say it. I have to go."

"Let me take you out to dinner."

"No."

"I'm getting to you aren't I? That's why you want to run away from me."

"You know how men walk around thinking with their penises all of the time? Sometimes women think with their hearts. But all too often it only brings them heartache. So I'm telling mine to shut the fuck up. It's getting easier every day."

Kiefer shut the ring box and pressed it into her hand. "I want you to have this."

"Give it to the next girl that you decide to sleep with. It doesn't look like a regular engagement ring. They'll never know that's what it was meant to be."

"I picked it out for you. I knew that you didn't like the kinda stuff that most other women like. I could have bought you some generic engagement ring like all the other guys buy their girls. But I didn't want to do that. I was actually thinking about you when I picked it out."

Delphina shook her head and shoved the ring into her purse. "That would be the first time."

"You don't need to be such a bitch. I know I was an asshole for three years, but that doesn't mean that I don't love you or that I need to be treated like shit when I'm trying really fucking hard."

"I'm sorry Kiefer. I'll be civil. I promise."

"Thanks. I guess I'll let you go home now. Does that place have cockroaches? It looks like it would."

"No. Do you have anything to sleep on before you bring the rest of your stuff down here? There's a thrift store downtown."

"I don't need to buy a bed. Our bed is comfortable and it's got a lot of good memories. You crying out my name in the heat of passion, the way you look when you're moving on top of me. You're the only woman that I've ever been with that always keeps her eyes open during sex. That is so hot."

"Shut up. I have an air mattress that you can use until you bring the bed. You can keep the damned thing. It's not very comfortable."

"I can buy my own. Wait, it probably smells like you. I love the way you smell too."

Delphina shook her head. "I said I would be civil. That doesn't mean you need to talk about our relationship and especially not about our sex life."

"You can't pretend it didn't happen Del. We had three good years together."

"You had three good years. I had three years of you lying and cheating and going to jail."

"I went to jail three times in three years. I went to jail way more than that before I met you. I only went to jail when I was drunk anyway. It won't be a problem anymore. I know that it's really hard for you to remember the good memories around all of the bad, but we did have good times. You don't need to let them stay hidden. Do you remember that picnic I took you on last year?"

It wasn't something that was easy for her to forget. They'd been fighting for weeks beforehand. Then he'd surprised her and taken her on an evening picnic. It had started to rain and they'd made love on the grass in the park. The experience had been incredible.

"None of that matters anymore Kie. Even the worst relationships have some good times. I'm going home. Do you want to follow me so I can give you that air mattress?"

"Yeah."

Kiefer followed her outside. She drove back to her apartment and he followed her. He insisted on going up to the apartment with her though she practically begged him not to. He made a face, but didn't remind her that she could live with him.

He thanked her for the air mattress and then left. She knew that he'd wanted to kiss her. She had let him get away with hugging her, but she couldn't let him kiss her. She was feeling way too vulnerable as it was.

She went to her first doctor's appointment. She made it on a day when she knew that Kiefer couldn't come and then ended up feeling bad because she'd been able to hear the baby's heartbeat. Her job was going well. She felt more comfortable every day.

When she was three months pregnant, Kiefer talked her into having dinner with him. Delphina had a good time, but it only reminded her of how much she missed him. It wasn't a feeling that she appreciated.

When she was six months pregnant, he invited her over to decorate the baby's room at his house. His new job was going well, and he was still sober. She was very proud of him, but still had doubts as to how long it would last. There was talk around town that he was seeing a woman. She had made a few friends at work and they all knew who Kiefer was. All of the single women in town seemed to think he was hot as hell. Even Delphina had to admit that he looked even better than he had before. He had cut his hair and was clean shaven most of the time.

They were sitting in Kiefer's living room after they'd finished the baby's room when Delphina asked him about his new girlfriend.

He gave her a strange look. "I don't have a girlfriend Del. I haven't gone this long without sex since I was a virgin."

"Yeah right Kiefer. It's going around town that you're seeing someone."

Kiefer chuckled. "Did it ever dawn on you that they might be talking about you Del? We've been out to dinner a few times and you've let me go to your last few doctors' appointments."

"I'm not your girlfriend."

He shrugged. "I'm not the one that said it. But you could be my wife if you wanted to be."

"We're not going to discuss that again."

"Del, don't tell me that you don't miss me being your man. I can see it in the way you look at me sometimes, that you want to kiss me. Right now I think you want to do a whole hell of a lot more than kiss me."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"How about I kiss you and we can find out?"

Her heart started to beat faster. "No."

He brushed his hand over her cheek. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me. Tell me that if I took you back to the bedroom and made love to you that you would just walk away from me again."

"I don't want you Kiefer." But the words didn't sound true even to her ears.

He smiled. "You're lying. You looked at me for two seconds and then you looked away. We've been together too long for me not to know when you're lying."

"We're not together anymore."

"I've been good to you haven't I? I've obeyed your wishes and I haven't bugged you all the time about getting back together. Give me one more chance Del. I promise you that if I fuck it up I won't ask for another chance. We don't have to get married right away. Just let me be your man. I can make you proud of me."

Delphina sighed. "I am proud of you Kie. You've been doing so well lately. I'm too vulnerable right now. I think I need to go."

"Baby, do you know how proud it makes me that you're the woman that's having my baby? When I messed around, I was terrified that some trashy slut was going to get knocked up with my kid because I was drunk and didn't think about using a rubber. It wasn't just because I didn't want to have to pay some bitch child support for 18 years. It was because I knew that when I was ready to have a kid, I wanted it to be with the right woman. You're the right woman Del. You've always been the right woman for me. I knew it the first time I looked at you, I was just too stupid to realize what I was doing to you, how I was making you feel. I can never tell you how sorry I am. Let me make it up to you. I will do anything if you'll just give me one last chance."

"I can't do this right now." Delphina grabbed her purse and got up off of the couch. Tears were running down her face by the time she made it out the door. Kiefer called out to her, but she ignored him. She couldn't face him. She wanted nothing more than to be in his arms at that moment.

She drove home and cried until she had no more tears. Two hours later, she was standing on his doorstep. He answered the door and gave her a cautious smile.

"Hi. I didn't mean to make you cry. You know that I never could stand to see you cry." He moved out of the doorway so that she could enter the house and when she had he shut the door behind them.

She tried to ignore the fact that he was wearing nothing other than a worn pair of flannel pajama bottoms. She sat down on the couch. She took a deep breath and then let it out.

"If I give you another chance, it will be the last one. If you cheat on me even one more time, I will walk away from you and never look back. You will always be the father of my child, but that doesn't mean that you always have to be my man. If things go well enough between us, I'll move in here after the baby is born. I don't want to marry you right now. It may take another three years for me to trust you enough to want to marry you."

Kiefer was silent for a minute. Then a grin broke out on his face. "You'll really take me back?"

Delphina nodded. "Yes."

"Can I kiss you now?"

"Please."

He kissed her slow and easy, but it only left her wanting more, so she turned up the passion a notch. He pulled back from her several minutes later and gave her a cocky grin.

"You're horny aren't you?"

She hit him with the pillow from the couch. "So what if I am?"

"I do still know how to take care of that."

She shook her head at him. "I'm sure you do. That doesn't mean that I need to hop right back into bed with you."

"How about I kiss you again and we let nature take its course?"

She nodded, because she couldn't speak. There was so much passion in his eyes that it made her almost dizzy looking at him.

Their nature did eventually lead them back to his bedroom. She was more than a little self–conscious as she stood naked in front of him. While she was thrilled with what her pregnancy had done to her breasts, she felt like her stomach was huge.

He followed her eyes from his flat abdomen to hers that was expanding with the growth of their child.

"You're beautiful baby. We're gonna take it slow and easy. If it's not comfortable for you let me know."

"This probably sounds like a dumb question and I probably should have researched it myself, but how do you have sex when a woman is further along in her pregnancy?"

Kiefer smiled. She shot him a dirty look. "No. I haven't been with a pregnant woman before. I took the liberty of doing some research of my own. I had a feeling that you might come around while you were still pregnant."

"Uh huh."

"Shh baby. Come here." He led her to the bed.

They made love three times that night. She didn't have to work the next day so she spent the night at his house. It was like coming home to fall asleep in his arms again.

She moved in two weeks before the baby was due. He had proven to her that he was trying his best to be the man that she needed him to be.

Macy Kendrix was born right on time. She weighed 7 pounds 7.5 ounces and was 21 inches long. Kiefer was a wonderful father. He proposed on the one-year anniversary of their second chance relationship and Delphina accepted.

