All of her waking hours during the last month had been all but a blur for Rebecca Harper. She remembered her dreams much more vividly than her reality, perhaps because her reality felt so uncertain to her. After learning that the origin of her very existence had been a lie, Rebecca began to reevaluate her life, her relationships, and even her thoughts. As she slowly began to assimilate herself as a member of the Walker clan, her relationship with her mother grew more and more strained and the tension rose considerably with each visit she made and each dinner she shared with them. Part of her was concerned about the tension between her and her mother, and part of her didn't care. The Walkers hadn't lied to her for twenty years, her mother had. The Walkers were just as innocent as she was.

One morning, when she awoke, she found her mother outside working in the garden. She didn't bother to pop her head out and bid her good morning, she merely reached for the cereal and then poured herself a cup of coffee. Once she had gotten through several sections of the L.A. Times, Holly entered the house, brushing the dirt off her jeans.

"Morning," Holly said pleasantly, heading for the sink to wash her hands.

"Morning," Rebecca replied, without diverting her attention from the Arts & Entertainment section.

"What's new in the world?"

"Angelina Jolie adopted another poor unfortunate."

"What a saint." Holly dried off her hands and reached for the coffee pot, highly disappointed to find it empty. "Becca."

Rebecca looked up.

"What's the rule in this house?" Holly asked, holding up the empty coffee pot.

"Refill the coffee when you've had the last of it," she answered glumly.

"That's right."

She pushed back her chair and stood up, sighing with irritation as she walked into the kitchen to perform her designated task.

"The azaleas are in full bloom today. You should go out and have a look."

"No, thanks," Rebecca said, placing the refilled coffee pot in its station and returning to the table.

Holly nodded to herself, preparing for round two. She knew this dance well. She had been doing it for the last month. "I was gonna head over to Venice this afternoon, check out the scene. Wanna come along?"

Rebecca shook her head. "Actually, I'm having lunch with Kitty and Sarah today, then I was gonna drop by Nora's and see what she's up to."

Holly stared at her daughter for a moment before finding the words. "Nora's..."

"Yeah. I promised her I'd lend her my copy of The Bell Jar. She got turned on to Sylvia Plath by her writing class."

"I didn't know you were interested in Sylvia Plath," Holly said, almost in a whisper.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "The Bell Jar's been my favorite book since my junior year of high school. Way to notice." She folded up the newspaper and stood up, coffee mug in hand. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

Holly nodded dismissively and stared vacantly ahead as Rebecca left the room. After a moment, she glanced up at the calendar and wondered if Rebecca knew.

Kitty Walker had never been much of a morning person. It was a trait that had been passed down by her father and had been inherited by each one of his six children. This particular morning, she managed to pull on a bathrobe before leaving her bedroom and going downstairs, which is more than could be said for most mornings. She lethargically trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen, stopping short in the doorway.

"Uh, Mom...?"

The Walker kitchen had magically been transformed into the Wonderful World of Julia Child and her mother was smack dab in the middle of the mess. The mixed aroma of various foods and oils permeated the air and resulted in a most unsatisfactory scent wafting about the room. Nora Walker appeared more frazzled than ever, juggling the overflowing pots of boiling water and checking up on the burning smell escaping from the oven.

"Mom."

Kitty was sure if she was being ignored or if she wasn't even being heard. Either way, her mother paid her no attention. Holding the pot in one hand and an oven mit in the other, she used her foot to open the oven door. Smoke immediately poured out of the opening, causing Nora to throw the pot of boiling water into the sink, the steam from which only added to the effect of the burning smoke. She grabbed the pan out of the oven and threw it onto the stove in frustration, then kicked the oven closed.

"Mom, what the hell is going on? Are we expecting the Cabinet for dinner or something?"

"Damnit," Nora whispered to herself, turning off all the dials on the oven and the stove.

Never taking her eyes off her mother, Kitty cautiously advanced forward and sat on the stool by the island and observed the mess. Nora turned away and covered her face with her hands.

"Looks like a classic case of overcompensation to me," Kitty stated.

"I am not overcompensating for anything," Nora snapped back. "I was just trying to..."

"Burn the house down?"

"Keep myself occupied."

"What, is The Professor withholding sex or something?" Kitty questioned sardonically.

All Nora had to do was respond with her signature Mom Glare and Kitty knew the answer to that question. "I was trying to make some of your father's favorite foods."

"So Dad was into the whole burnt flavor thing."

"You know what, Katherine Ann, I have had quite enough of your wry observations for one morning, so why don't you just get your coffee and leave?" Nora retorted.

"Oh, busting the middle name out of lockdown. That's something. What's going on, Nora Elizabeth?"

Nora sighed and leaned against the opposite side of the island.

"You have absolutely no idea what today is, do you?"

"I suppose Saturday wouldn't be the answer you're looking for, huh?" Kitty replied.

"Today is your father's birthday," Nora admitted reluctantly.

"It's...oh. You're right. Wow. I'm...sorry."

"It's all right."

"Do you want to...talk or something?" Kitty asked awkwardly.

"No, no. I'm fine. Go hang out with Senator Sexpot."

"Mom!"

Nora raised a devilish eyebrow and flashed her a half-smile. "If he wasn't a Republican, I'd..."

"Mom!" Kitty exclaimed again. "Not only are you a Democrat, you're a widow. A widow with a boyfriend."

"Oh, that is so adolescent. I'm sixty years old, I do not have a boyfriend, Kitty."

"Yeah, then what do you have?"

Nora shrugged. "I have a...companion."

"A companion with whom you quite frequently have sex," Kitty added, regretting it not long thereafter.

Nora cringed. "Is there any possible way we could postpone this conversation?"

"I suppose that could be arranged." She stood. "I think I'm just gonna grab my coffee and...you know, forget those words ever escaped my lips."

"Sounds good."

"Okay."

Rebecca stepped into the swanky restaurant in San Marino and stood on her tip-toes, craning her neck in search of one or both of her half-sisters. The hostess approached her and flashed her a less than genuine smile.

"Are you meeting someone?"

"Uh...yes, I'm looking for my sister, Kitty Walker."

Sister. Rebecca smiled to herself at the reference. She had a sister. She had two.

"Of course. Miss Walker has already arrived, I'll take you to her."

She followed the hostess through the restaurant, traveling through a maze of tables, before reaching a quiet little corner of the room where Kitty sat alone at a table for four. Kitty stood up and hugged Rebecca as the hostess slowly inched away.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," Rebecca said breathlessly, as they both took their seats.

"Oh, you're not, don't worry," Kitty replied. "Robert and I had a meeting a few miles away so I was able to get here a little early. We're looking at maybe twenty minutes before Sarah finally shows up."

"Fashionably late?" Rebecca assumed.

"Always."

Both women sat silently for a moment, attempting to devise a strategy to absorb the awkwardness that had started to surround their little corner of the restaurant.

"Actually, Rebecca, I wanted a chance to talk to you before Sarah got here."

Rebecca leaned forward, prepared to listen intently. "What's up?"

"This is really...you know, it's weird to just...say without it sounding completely delayed or lame or something, but here it is. I know this past month has been crazy for you, it has been for us too. We feel just as betrayed and confused as you do. And it's hard, for all of us, to sort of...get acclimated. We've all been handling this situation differently, some of us better than others. It's probably hard for you to sort of...get where I'm coming from because you're so new to our family dynamic, but the reason I think I've been so...distant is because I had always been my father's daughter, you know? We were always so alike, politically and personally. I was always Daddy's Little Girl. Tommy and I always sort of belonged to Dad while Justin and Kevin were total Mama's Boys, and Sarah more or less went both ways. I think it's been easier for Tommy to understand because he's, you know, a guy. But for me..."

"I know," Rebecca whispered. "I understand."

"I always wanted a little sister," Kitty announced, with slight trepidation. "Of course, I had Kevin, but that wasn't the same thing. Even though Sarah and I were so close in age, she was the one who could play the big sister card, not me. Having three younger brothers was great, but it wasn't the same. Honestly, until I was about six, the thought of having a little sister had never even occured to me. Things were the way they were and when you're six, change seems so incredibly far-fetched. It wasn't until one fateful night in '74 that it finally hit me."

"What happened?" Rebecca asked.

"Oh." Kitty smiled and shook her head. "An experience that, when I look back on it, becomes more and more traumatic as time passes. In the spring of 1974, Mom and Dad took all of us, all except Justin as he had yet to grace our lives with his saintly presence, to Disney World. Sarah and I had become grossly dissatisfied with Disney Land, having worn it out long before, so they took us down to Orlando for a few days. We had adjoining hotel rooms, Mom and Dad in one room, and us kids in the other. One night, it was probably sometime after midnight, I woke up after having a bad dream, which I was pretty prone to back then. I went into Mom and Dad's room and..."

Rebecca's eyes widened. "No."

"Oh yes. And you know, being six years old and having no idea what was going on, I just stood there, watching. Disgusting, isn't it? But I just had no idea, I was fascinated. And it wouldn't be the last time either. All five of us have disturbingly high track records for walking in on our parents at inopportune times, Kevin being at the top of that list, which probably accounts for why he's gay." They both laughed. "Yeah, Kevin's at the lead with seven."

"Seven times?!" Rebecca exclaimed.

Kitty nodded solemnly. "Seven times. Tommy's second with six, Justin and I are tied with five each, and Sarah lucked out with only three."

"Haven't you guys ever heard of knocking?"

"That's what Mom and Dad used to say. Apparently not," Kitty replied. "And for some reason, we never learned from our mistakes. I don't know why it was so hard. I mean, Mom is surprisingly loud." Kitty's jaw dropped immediately after the words came out of her mouth. "I can't believe I just said that. Just kill me, would you please?"

Rebecca laughed. "I never had that problem."

"Lucky. Anyway, so, after a few minutes, I went back into my room and woke up Sarah. For some reason, even though she's only ten months my senior, I regarded her as the wise all-knowing one. I calmly explained to her the situation and asked her what it was. She told me that Mom and Dad were making another baby. It didn't gross me out as it does now, I didn't see it as particularly strange in anyway. I thought it was the coolest thing I've ever heard and I wanted to learn how. Sarah, the voice of reason, of course told me only grown-ups had that power. From that point on, thinking that Mom and Dad were doing what Sarah said, I became set on having a baby sister. I never got one, and I bugged Sarah about it every day for about a year, wondering why I wasn't getting a baby sister, all I got was Justin seven years later."

"Well. Here I am," Rebecca said, almost cheerfully.

"Yes." Kitty nodded. "Here you are. Not quite what I expected, but I won't love you any less."

Rebecca smiled gratefully. Kitty reached across the table and covered her sister's hand with her own and warmly smiled back.

By early afternoon that day, Nora Walker had thoroughly exhausted herself. She had cleaned everything that could be cleaned, fixed everything she knew how to fix, and done everything she had been meaning to do for months. When all efforts to distract herself had been made, she concocted herself a margarita and sat outside by the pool. However, what had started out as a method for relaxation soon turned into an unsettling activity, as Nora found herself unable to keep from reliving that fateful evening in September when the pool before her had all but devoured her husband. And with him, her life.

When the waiter arrived to clear their table, silence fell upon the three daughters of William Walker for the first time in nearly an hour. Their first outing alone, just the three of them, had been enormously successful thus far, much to the surprise of each one. The conversation had been fairly lighthearted, as not one of them was, at that point, brave enough to delve into anything deeper. Both Sarah and Kitty were surprised at how well Rebecca carried herself. She was intelligent, articulate, and effervescent, much as they themselves had been at that age.

They ordered dessert, agreeing to split a sumptuous piece of chocolate cheesecake between between the three of them, to preserve their shapely figures. Once they waiter had taken their order and fled the scene with their menus, Sarah's face took on a slightly somber expression. Rebecca watched her suspiciously as she reached into her purse and pulled out a little gift-wrapped box and handed it to her.

"What's this?" Rebecca asked, tentatively.

"Open it," Sarah said, encouragingly yet maintaining her stoic expression.

Rebecca slowly unwrapped the package and opened the box. Inside, displayed in vintage wooden frame, was the photograph Sarah had found in the attic at the ranch house in Ojai. Rebecca ran her fingers over it lightly, copying the image into her mind.

"Where did you get this?" She asked softly.

"It was in the attic, at our ranch house in Ojai. I was looking through some of Dad's things and..." Sarah trailed off. "There it was."

When she saw her half-sister's eyes begin to well up, Sarah reached across the table and took her hand. "My father loved you, Rebecca. I know you don't feel it right now and you certainly didn't feel it growing up, but I hope that someday you will. He wanted to know you. And in his own way, he did. I'm just sorry you never got the opportunity to know him. He wasn't a bad guy. Flawed, as we all are, but not a villain. He loved his family more than anything in the world, and that has always included you. I know it. Despite his mistakes, Dad was nothing if not devoted to his family. To us, to Mom, to you. He screwed up, there's no doubt about it, but his love was never compromised."

Rebecca looked up and locked eyes with her sister then, blinking back tears. "Thank you."

Sarah smiled. "Just one last thing before we wrap up this sapfest. As much as you and I, as all of us, feel betrayed by what he did, it's nothing compared to what Mom is feeling, has been feeling for the past nine months. In all honesty, as much as we'd like to call it betrayal, Dad didn't betray us. He didn't break any vows or any contracts he made with us. He violated our trust, he hurt us, but only indirectly. He betrayed Mom. He did it for twenty years and he died doing it. We'll never know, we'll never understand why it started, what made him continue, or how he was able to so effectively keep it a secret. We do know why he kept it a secret. He kept it a secret so he wouldn't lose us, but in a way, it was more so he wouldn't lose her. He knew we would always be there. We would get angry, we would distrust him, we would maybe even hate him for a little while, but we would always be there. She wouldn't. Whatever there was between our father and your mother, it was enough to risk his life with Mom, but it wasn't enough to ruin it. But Mom doesn't see it that way. Even in death, he has ripped her heart out."

Rebecca squinted at Sarah in confused and quietly asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm telling you this because I want you to understand a little bit about Nora Walker. I want you to understand how much it means for her to accept you as she has done. She has embraced you, for the most part, with open arms, Rebecca. You have no idea how hard that's been for her. You won't see it, you won't hear it, you won't feel it, but it's there. The hurt, the betrayal, the confusion, the anger, the disillusionment. We've all spent the last few months questioning our lives, our relationships with him, every word we ever exchanged. But none of us shared our lives with him like Mom did. Acknowledging the existence of your dead husband's love child is remarkable enough, welcoming her into your home and embracing her is phenomenal beyond words. She has gone so far as to, often times, treat you like one of her own. And it has been so incredibly difficult for her to do that, Rebecca. In many ways, I'm a lot like my father. But more and more I begin to see that I am, at heart, my mother's daughter. I see her in me, and sometimes that scares the shit out of me, I won't lie, but most times I'm grateful. We should all be so lucky as to grow into the woman that Nora Walker is and has been. I want you to see that."

Rebecca nodded tearfully, then looked over at Kitty, who despite her tear-stained cheeks had been silent throughout the entire conversation. Kitty smiled at her, then at Sarah. The chocolate cheesecake arrived, sumptuous as ever, and before they dug into their dessert, Kitty raised her fork.

"I'd like to propose a toast."

Sufficiently killing the moment, Sarah burst out into laughter. "You realize you're waving your fork in the air like a lunatic, right?"

"Yes, I do," Kitty replied seriously. "A toast, if you will." Sarah and Rebecca, both pursing their lips to supress inevitable laughter, raised their forks. "To William and Nora Walker, for always keeping their ship afloat amidst icebergs, pirates, and rocky seas. Though they were hit by a freak wave now and then and obviously there were a few holes in the construction, never once did they fall under."

"To William and Nora," Sarah agreed whoreheartedly.

"To William and Nora," Rebecca echoed, suddenly feeling loyal to the mere semblance of a couple she had never truly known.

They clinked their forks and, simultaneously, dove them into the long-anticipated cheesecake.

Shortly after her father's true identity was revealed, Rebecca's mother bought her a brand new Mustang, as new and as fresh as her emotional wounds were. As tempted as she was to refuse the gift, which she viewed merely as a bribe or possibly an olive branch of some sort, she was hesitant to pass up the opportunity to travel freely throughout the city. Upon learning she had five siblings to bond with, her new means of transportation became extremely valuable to her. She wanted so much to be accepted as a member of her new family that she welcomed every opportunity to visit with them. She had never had a family before. At least not a real one.

As she pulled into the driveway of what she liked to call the House of Walker, Rebecca felt the strangest sensation. She had been to the house several times before, but this time, something was different. It was beginning to feel like home to her. Whatever home was.

On her last few visits, she had arrived at the house with one or more of her new siblings. Not once had any of them ever bothered to knock upon entering. Though this was her first time entering the House of Walker by herself, she felt inclined to repeat their actions. She stepped into the foyer and was startled by the timid silence that greeted her. The house had never felt so lifeless.

"Nora?" Rebecca called out as she investigated the area. "Nora?" She popped her head into the downstairs study, which apparently had belonged to her father, and found Nora sitting at his desk, leafing through a photo album. "Nora."

She looked up, only slightly startled, as if an unconscious part of her had detected Rebecca's presence long before she appeared. "Hi, sweetie," she greeted her placidly.

"What are you doing?" She questioned timidly.

"Just looking through some old photo albums."

"Can I see?"

Nora appeared to be surprised by the question, but smiled nonetheless. "Of course you can." She stood and relocated to the sofa in the corner of the room and beckoned for Rebecca sit beside her.

Rebecca smiled and obliged her. "Oh my God, is that you?" She squealed upon the first photograph that caught her eye.

"That's me. 1969."

"You look exactly the same!" Rebecca exclaimed in amazement.

Nora laughed. "Hardly."

"No, really. You haven't changed, like, at all in forty years." She squinted to get a better look at the picture. "Wait a minute, is that Sarah?"

"Kitty. I know, it's so easy to confuse them, they're so close in age. Kitty was born less than eleven months after I had Sarah."

"Wow," Rebecca whispered. "I didn't think that was possible."

"Oh, it's possible, all right," Nora said. "It's possible when you have a husband who's about to be shipped off to Vietnam and you want to make the most out of your rapidly fleeting time together."

Rebecca glanced up at Nora. "Dad fought in Vietnam?"

"Oh, yes. Worst year of my life, arguably the best of his."

"Really?"

"He wasn't affected like most soldiers were. No post-traumatic stress, nothing like that. He was very gung-ho about the whole thing. I, on the other hand, less so. Kitty was born while he was still overseas." Nora sighed at the memory and turned the page. "Oh, look at this."

"That's..."

"Your father, Sarah, Kitty, Tommy, and me. 1972. I was pregnant with Kevin."

"You all look so..."

"Young?" Nora smirked.

"Happy."

"We were." Nora turned and watched her husband's lovechild as she regarded the antiquated photograph with slight astonishment. "Rebecca. I need you to understand something. I don't know what you've been told or what you've inferred, but we were happy. As a family, and as a couple. Whatever happened between William and your mother...did nothing to our happiness. Maybe our life together wasn't as idyllic as I thought it was, but our relationship didn't suffer the way I suspect you think it did."

Rebecca averted her eyes and nodded slowly, pensively. "Okay."

Nora smiled reassuringly. "Okay?"

Rebecca nodded again, trying to smile back. Nora reached for a different photo album and replaced the one that was on her lap.

"Let's look at a different one, shall we?"

When she opened the fading album, dust flew up in both of their eyes. They both laughed.

"That tells you a thing or two about how old I am, doesn't it?" Nora chuckled. "I'm older than the dust in your eye, kid."

Rebecca leaned over and gazed at the engraving on the back cover. "'Nora Elizabeth Holden, January 21st, 1965.'"

"It was a gift. From my grandmother on my eighteenth birthday. You know, the sort of gift that appears to be completely pointless when first given but later on proves to be enormously useful."

Rebecca pointed to the the photographs on the first page.

"Is that from your party?"

"The big one-eight, yes."

Rebecca reached out and pointed to a figure in one of the photographs. "Who's that?"

Nora smiled. "I can't tell you who that is unless you're prepared for the story behind it."

"I'm game," Rebecca said, giddily. There was something about this woman that fascinated her. She would welcome any story she offered to tell.

"That man there...is your uncle Jack."

Rebecca's eyes widened when she looked at Nora. "My what?"

"Your father's brother. He was the oldest of four, two brothers and a sister. Kate, Jack, and Tom, in that order. Jack...was my fiance."

Rebecca's jaw dropped ever so slightly. "Your fiance?"

Nora grinned. "Mmm-hmm."

"Okay, that's a story you're definitely not gonna get out of telling."

"Well, you see Jack was a good friend of Saul's, they had gone to school together. And though he was a few years older than me, when my senior prom date caught himself a bad case of the measles, he stepped in like a white knight and saved the day. Six months later, we were engaged to be married."

"What happened?" Rebecca questioned, quite floored.

Nora sighed wistfully. "Your father happened."

"Details!" She squealed, leaning in.

"All right, all right," Nora giggled girlishly. "Over the summer, before Jack and I had gotten engaged, the lot of us spent almost every waking moment together. Me, Jack, Kate, Saul, and your father. Tom was already in active duty overseas at the time, the first of two tours in Vietnam. Everything just seemed to work. Saul was thrilled to have me paired up with his closest friend, and Kate and I became close as well. There had always been some kind of unspoken...thing between your father and I, but he was so much older- he was thirty years old, I was barely pushing nineteen- that it never seemed to be...threatening in any way. But over the summer, somehow it became harder to ignore. Of course, that doesn't mean I didn't ignore it anyway. So, in the fall, their parents threw a little dinner party, and Jack and I decided to seize the opportunity and announce our engagement. We did, and everyone was thrilled."

Rebecca grinned. "Almost everyone."

"Almost everyone, yes. Shortly after we made our announcement, I ducked out to the bathroom to, you know, powder my nose. I was standing the front of the mirror, agonizing over my reflection, when your father burst through the door and quickly locked it behind him. I was flabbergasted, of course, I had absolutely no idea what in the world was going on. Anyway, he stood in front of the door and when I protested, he said he wasn't going to let me out until I had heard every word he had to say."

"What did he have to say?"

Nora shook her head, smiling. "A great many things. He said he had kept his feelings a secret for so long, because he didn't want to hurt his brother, but there was no way in hell he was going to keep his mouth shut now. He said he was done with secrets, done with playing games, and prepared to accept whatever consequence befell him as a result. He said he was in love with me, had been for months, and if Jack was half as in love with me as he said he was, he wouldn't be nearly as sane as he acted. He said, 'Love drives you crazy, Nora. Jack is too together to be in love. And I'm an absolute headcase.'"

"Awww!"

"That would have been my reaction...if I hadn't just announced my engagement to his brother," Nora explained.

"So what did you do?" Rebecca asked.

"I...asked him to unlock the door. He did, and I left. I left the house altogether, without a word to anyone. The next day, I broke the engagement."

"I can't believe it. It seems so simple."

"It was, in a way. Once I started to look at it the right way, it was very simple."

Rebecca sighed and wryly noted, "And they say love is complicated."

Nora laughed and shook her head. "No. Relationships are complicated, people are complicated. Love is simple."

"Once you figure out what love is, I guess."

"Once you figure out what love is, it's simple as can be. You are a smart girl, Rebecca."

After less than an hour solitarily exploring Venice Beach, Holly Harper fled the scene and returned to her cozy little cottage. As Nora had done earlier, Holly had been seeking a distraction, an escape from the prison her mind had become. She walked into the house, tossed her keys on the coffee table, and collapsed on the overstuffed couch, overcome with relief. This calm relaxtion was subverted, however, when she remembered her daughter's afternoon destination. It wasn't necessarily that she had anything specifically against Nora Walker, besides the fact that she was the only thing that stood between Holly and her true love. It was more that, what with Rebecca's growing distance from her, she worried that Rebecca would latch onto the widow and begin to view her as a sort of surrogate mother. Part of her wondered if that wasn't what William would have wanted. Surely he would have loved to see Rebecca accepted into the hearts of children and, miraculously, his wife. It never would have happened while he was alive.

She heard the sound of the front door knob jiggle and turned around just in time to see her daughter cross the threshold.

"Hey," Holly greeted her, pleasant but weary.

"Hi," Responded Rebecca, in her usual way.

"You went to Nora's?"

Rebecca nodded, tossing her keys onto the coffee table beside her mother's. "Yeah."

"Oh, good," Holly said, praying her tone hadn't come off too fake.

"She's giving me a crash course on the life and times of William Walker."

Holly raised an eyebrow. "You know, you could have just come to me."

"No offense, Mom, but...Nora was married to him for forty years. I'm pretty sure she's more of an authority on that subject than you are."

As much as Holly was inclined to refute that statement, she wasn't sure she would be entirely accurate in doing so. Rebecca sat down in the chair across from the couch and, after a moment of silence between them had passed, suddenly started to laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing," Rebecca said, attempting to suppress her giggles. "I was just thinking about this story Nora told me."

"Yeah?" Holly said, disinterested.

"Yeah." Rebecca sat up on her knees, signifying her enthusiasm. "Hey, did you know that Nora was engaged to Dad's brother before they got married?"

"Yes, I believe that may have been mentioned at some point."

"It's the most unbelievably romantic story. When they announced their engagement in front of the family, Dad locked Nora in the bathroom, professed his love for her, and refused to let her leave until she heard him out. She broke off her engagement to Uncle Jack the next day," Rebecca said wistfully.

Holly raised a curious eyebrow. "Uncle Jack?"

"He's my uncle," Rebecca explained, squinting at her in confusion.

"Becca, you've never even met the man."

"He's still my uncle. I've never consciously met Dad either, but then, who's fault is that?" When Holly didn't respond, an excitable Rebecca took it upon herself to keep talking. "Oh, and then, when they got married, it was a total disaster. Nora's parents hated Dad because he was so much older than her, they called him 'the Operator,' or whatever and Dad's family was still a little weird about the whole thing because, you know, she used to be engaged to his brother. So everyone was freaking out, stressing, and Nora started having doubts. Right when the ceremony was about to begin, Nora asked them to postpone it and she went to sit outside on the church steps, and Dad came out to talk to her. Of course she totally freaked, because you're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding, but then he gave this amazing speech. He was like, 'Listen to me. I want to make a family with you, I want to wake up next to you every morning, I want to sit across from you at the breakfast table every day, and I want yours to be the last face I see before I fall asleep at night for the rest of my life. Now. If all of that sounds appealing to you, then let's go on in there and seal the deal so we can get on with the rest of our lives.' Is that not the most romantic thing you've ever heard?"

"Yeah, it's...pretty romantic," Holly said, swallowing hard.

"Oh. Oh my God. I totally forgot. When he proposed to her. Seriously, I almost died. Okay, so, he took her for a drive up on Mulholland, which...apparently was way less skanky back then, and they were parked and sitting on the hood of the car, looking out over the city, when he popped the question. But he didn't do that whole cliched proposal thing, he made it his own. Instead of just asking her to marry him, he asked her to make him whole. Is that not the most adorable thing you've ever heard in your life?"

Holly leaned back against the couch and sighed. "It's certainly one of the corniest."

Rebecca tilted her head to one side. "You think so? Well, can I ask...since Nora made Dad 'whole,' what exactly were you? Extra credit?"

Holly's eyes widened, bright and fiery. She swung her legs off the couch and onto the floor, sitting up straight. "I beg your pardon."

"Are you really gonna rebut that, Mom? With what?"

Rebecca's eyes followed her mother's frame as she stood from her position on the couch.

"You talk like you're Nora's daughter, not mine," Holly shot back.

"Sometimes I wish I were!" Rebecca shouted.

"Look, Rebecca, things between your father and I were complicated, more complicated either you or your pal Nora can understand. Nora might have 'made him whole,' but I was a part of him, just like you were, and your brothers and sisters were."

Rebecca shook her head violently. "No. That's where you're wrong. I was never a part of him. He never even knew me! Why? Because you interfered with his perfect life. I was your mistake, and you were his mistake. Was it so hard to just, you know, not get involved with a married man? I mean, for God's sakes, Mom! How selfish can you be? It's one thing to go ahead and ruin your own life, but to ruin the lives of six innocent people? What is that? Some kind of tripped up ego thing? An all expenses paid vacation to your own delusions of grandeur? Did you really think that highly of yourself?"

"Rebecca..." Holly whispered in a tearful plea.

"And don't give me that crap about how you can't help who you fall in love with. Bullshit, Mom. You can help who choose to pursue. No one asked you to go after a married man. It's sad to think we've come to this. Women finding ways to justify having affairs with married men. It's different when there's love involved, right? It's okay just as long as he loves you. Well, let me tell you, that is crap, Mom. When a man has as a ring on his finger, that means you don't go near him. There is no excuse for what you did. None."

"Where does he fall into all of this?" Holly questioned, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"He's not here!" Rebecca exclaimed. "But you can be damn sure that even if he was, not one single thing about this conversation would be different. Only I'd be having it with him too."

With that, Rebecca grabbed her purse and her car keys and stormed out of the house.

"We can reschedule if you'd prefer."

Mark August sat on the edge of the bed in Nora's room and watched as she ran around the room, slightly flustered, preparing herself to go out. He had been early, as per usual.

Nora stopped in front of her bureau and begin digging through her jewelry box. "No, no. It's not a big deal."

"It's his birthday, Nora. How well would I know you if I didn't think you were lying right now?"

She picked out two dangling sapphire earrings from the box, to match her dark blue cocktail dress, and put them on. "Not incredibly well, I admit."

"So I thought."

With her earrings securely fastened in each ear, she leaned forward in front of the mirror and began fussing with her hair. "Oh, it never turns out the way I want it to," she muttered to herself.

"You look gorgeous," Mark insisted. "So much so that I would be delighted and thrilled to squire you about town this evening, but not if you'd rather stay home."

Nora turned around and raised an eyebrow at him. "How chivalrous of you."

"Nora," Mark said, standing up in exhasperation.

She turned her back to him. "Zip me please."

As he did so, he shook his head and commented, "You are the only woman I have ever met who leaves this part until last."

Nora shrugged. "I like to keep an open mind. Sometimes the right pair of shoes can persuade me to ditch the dress altogether in favor of another." She turned back around to face him. "Mark."

"What?" He asked innocently.

"Don't look at me like that." She placed her hands defiantly on her hips.

"Hey, I'm just looking out for you."

"Just me?" Nora questioned knowingly.

"All right, both of us. I happen to have it on good authority that when a woman feels obligated to be social in a time of emotional turmoil, it is more often than not her escort who takes the fall at the end of the night."

"I am not in a time of emotional turmoil. Stop playing the damsel in distress card with me. I am perfectly capable of assessing my own emotional state and in this instance I judge myself stable and in good humor."

Mark held his hands up in defeat. "Fine. Whatever you say."

"That's more like it."

Nora smiled, a smile that was quickly replaced by a startled frown when the loud and frantic voice of her husband's daughter reached her ears. She was screaming her name, her voice cracking a little each time. Both Nora and Mark ran out of the bedroom to the top of the stairs as Rebecca was running up them. She stopped short when she saw that Nora wasn't alone.

"Oh."

"Mark, you remember William's daughter, Rebecca," Nora said.

"Of course." Mark smiled awkwardly. "Hello, Rebecca."

"Hi," Rebecca replied before brushing past them into Nora's bedroom.

Nora turned to Mark was flashed him an apprehensive half-smile. "Excuse me for a moment, would you?"

Mark nodded. "Go."

She ran after Rebecca into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Inside, Rebecca had thrown herself down onto the bed, obviously quite beside herself.

"What is it?" Nora asked nervously.

"I must be going crazy," she replied, covering her face with her hands.

Nora sat on the bed beside her and draped her arm around her shoulders. "What happened?"

"It's my mom. I just can't...I don't know, I just can't...be near her anymore," Rebecca admitted. "Everytime I look at her, I think of what she did. I just can't see her as who I once thought she was. Before she was the victim, the victim of a one-night stand with some director who was said to be my father. Now she's the culprit, and I just can't get past that."

"That's normal," Nora assured her. "It's going to be like that for a little while. It'll get better. I promise you, it will get better."

"I just...don't understand why."

"No." Nora shook her head somberly. "I don't either. But it's too late for questions, isn't it? The time for ruminations and uncertainties has passed, now is the time for acceptance."

"You've accepted it?" Rebecca asked skeptically.

"As well as I can ever hope to, yes."

"I don't accept it."

"Look at it this way," Nora began. "Your father's indiscretions, and your mother's, are the reason you're alive right now."

"Why couldn't I have been your daughter?" Rebecca wondered tearfully. "Then I could have you, and I could have Dad and none of this would have been a problem. No one gets hurt and everybody wins. I could have grown up a part of this family. I could have actually known my father. And Kitty could have had the little sister she always wanted."

"She does have a little sister, Becca."

"No, she has a little bastard half-sister. That's not the same thing."

"Says who?" Nora challenged her. "You're not superfluous in this family. You're exactly who you were meant to be. I'm gonna tell you something and I want you to listen and try to get where I'm coming from. Shortly before you were born, I went through a little mid-life crisis. Now it was nothing like a typical male mid-life crisis, there were no major extravagant purchases or random flings. My mid-life crisis consisted mainly of wanting another baby. At this point, Sarah was already twenty years old, and Justin was six. Despite my determination, your father would have none of it. He said he was too old to be starting over, five was enough. But with Sarah and Kitty off at college and Tommy and Kevin slowly preparing to flee the nest, I was insistant and, quite frankly, not in my right mind. And so I did something you should never, ever do, under any circumstance. It's deceitful, it's manipulative, and it's wrong."

"What did you do?" Rebecca asked.

"I went off the pill without telling him. And I got pregnant. I told him it was just a fluke, not that he believed me. It took some time, but eventually he warmed up to the idea. Not long afterward, I had a miscarriage. Turns out, little did I know at the time, you were born the next day. There have been times in my life when I've doubted it, but the older I get the more evidence I find that everything truly does happen for a reason. You, my dear, happened for a reason. Though I'm ashamed to admit it, that's not to say I've never wondered what would have happened if you were mine and your mother had had the miscarriage. But that's not how it happened. One way or another, you happened. And that's enough."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"What?"

"The fact that I exist."

Nora hesitated, attempting to balance her tendency to be truthful with her decorum. "Sometimes. Although it's not so much you as it. It being the affair itself. But the affair didn't happen because of you, you happened because of it. Therefore...it's not really you that I resent."

Rebecca shook her head in amazement. "I don't know how you do it, how you manage it keep it all together. I'm furious at him for what he did to you, maybe even more than for what he did to me. I don't know how he lived with himself all those years, waking up next to you every morning, and knowing..."

Nora looked down for a moment pensively, and when she lifted her head, tears were in her eyes.

"But you know, if the worst thing you've done in your life is love too much, then you're okay."

Rebecca nodded against her will as the tears began pouring out.

"Your mother's not perfect, Becca. Neither am I. We have one thing in common though. We both slept with a married man. I just happened to be the one married to him. But when I put myself in her shoes, a part of me understands her. Not enough to embrace her, but enough to give me a little peace of mind when I need it."

"In her shoes how?"

"Well, sometimes I think about how it would have been if William had married her forty years ago, and met me twenty years later. Would I have done anything differently? I don't know. I do know that love makes you crazy and sometimes it clouds your judgement. That's just the way it is. That doesn't excuse what they did, but it does explain it."

Rebecca pushed her hair out of her face and sniffled. "So what do I do?"

"You cut your mother a little slack. You try talking to her instead of fighting with her. You listen to what she has to say and whether or not it satisfies you, you accept it because there's nothing else you can do. And when the world gets to you, when it all becomes too much, you come to me just as you did today. You may not be my child, but you are my daughter. I don't care about your genes. I was a part of William and you are his, therefore you're mine too. Don't you ever forget that."

She hugged her then. Hugged her like she was Kitty, hugged her like she was Sarah, hugged her like no genes and no betrayals separated them.