FIRST ASSIGNMENT

by SANDEFUR

A one shot story featuring my JoA character, Dylan Hunter.

FIRST ASSIGNMENT

by

SANDEFUR

(This is a continuation of the story of my character Dylan Hunter from my third season project. If you have not read those stories, you may want to take a few minutes to familiarize yourself with that story line.)

6-5-06/Monday morning.

Dylan Hunter enters his first college class, Communications 101 and quickly scans the room looking for a particular student. In the front row he easily spots a very pretty girl with long, honey-blonde hair. It is not the beauty of the girl that draws Dylan to her, but rather it is her bandaged ankle and crutches. Less than an hour ago, in the most bizarre moment of his life, Dylan encountered an oddly dressed little girl who told him she was God. Even stranger, Dylan had no doubts that she was telling the truth. With this amazing revelation came an assignment from God that Dylan was eager to fulfill. He was to go to this class and find a girl named Stevie and be a friend to her. He would know her by her sprained ankle. Dylan has no idea what this was about, but Litlle Girl God assured him that if he obeyed, he would see `good ripples'.

"Mind if I sit here?" Dylan asks.

No response. The blonde girl isn't so much ignoring him as she is so lost in her deep thoughts, she is totally unaware of her surroundings. Shrugging, Dylan sits beside her and prepares to take copious notes for his first college experience. He notices that the girl is still oblivious to everything around her, including the young assistant professor who is about to begin his lecture. The girl hasn't bothered to remove her textbook or notebook from her backpack, which is on the floor next to her crutches. Dylan takes particular notice of a circled `V' in heliotrope on the backpack. That is significant to him. Before his senior year at Arcadia High, Dylan attended Veebelfester High whose school colors were heliotrope and white. Had he attended school with this girl? No, he is sure he would have remembered such a striking beauty.

The lecture begins, and Dylan decides to take two sets of notes since the blonde girl is still in her zombie-like state. The class is mostly about basic effective communication, especially in the area of presentations of ideas and plans. There will also be some emphasis on personal intercommunication with a stressing of practicing good listening skills. This particular class has little to do with Dylan's pre-med major, but he can see how it would be helpful in almost any sort of career choice.

When the class comes to an end, most of the students begin a hasty departure, but the blonde girl seems as unaware of the end of the class as she was of its' beginning. Dylan knows he has to get through to this girl, so he decides to be bold in his actions. He takes the girl's backpack from the floor and removes the class's textbook from it. He opens the front cover and places the copy of his notes inside—only then does he see the name written there, Bridget Berkin. Bridget? Has he made a mistake? Is this even the right girl?

"What are you doing?" the girl finally asks.

Dylan smiles politely and replies, "I noticed you were a little out of it today, so I thought I would make a copy of my notes for you. It's the least I can do for a fellow Fighting Crane."

"We went to high school together? No, I'm sure I would have remembered you."

"I guess it depends on when you attended. I was there three years, but moved out of state for my senior year."

"Oh. I only went there for my senior year. I guess we just missed each other… Hey, everyone is gone. Wow, I guess I really did miss the whole class. Thanks for the notes, but I'm not sure I'll continue with this class. I wouldn't even be here if my best friend hadn't insisted I come and drove me here."

"Have you changed your mind about going to college?"

"No, or at least I don't think so. I don't know. My life has been such a mess lately, I don't know what to do next. I know Cindy was trying to be helpful when she brought me to class today, but I don't think I'm ready to face any new challenges right now."

"Anything you care to share?"

"Uh, no offense, and I'm grateful for the notes, but I don't even know you."

"That's easily solved. My name is Dylan Hunter, and I know from your textbook you are Bridget Berkin."

"Yeah, but I go by my…nickname, Stevie."

"Well Stevie, it's nice to meet you. I haven't made this offer to a girl since grade school, but can I carry your books for you?"

"Look, Dylan is it? Normally I'd be flattered, but I'm really not in the mood to put up with some guy's flirtation. I don't need your help or attention. I'm just going to sit here quietly and alone while I wait for my friend Cindy to come and pick me up. Okay?"

"Sure, but for the record, I wasn't flirting with you. I was just trying to be a nice guy…"

At that moment, Stevie's cell phone rings.

"Hello? Oh, hi Cindy... Car trouble? Yeah I understand, but I'm not sure how I will get home..."

Dylan raises his hand, "I formally volunteer to give you a lift."

Stevie rolls her eyes. "Do I look stupid? I'm not getting in a car with some guy I don't even know... What's that Cindy? Oh, some pick-up artist is trying to get me to go with him. Well, he says he went to our high school. Name of Dylan Hunter."

The loud cackle of laughter from the cell phone can be clearly heard by both of them. Stevie listens to her friend and responds to her questions.

"Yeah, he's tall...light brown hair and blue eyes..." (Stevie pauses and blushes slightly as she looks Dylan up and down.) "Very. So he's okay? Alright, I'll take your word for it."

Stevie disconnects and smiles at Dylan. "Well, my friend gives you a ringing endorsement. She says you are a good guy who can be trusted."

"Glad to hear it. Uh, this friend Cindy...that wouldn't be Cindy Sullivan, would it?"

"Yes. How do you know her?"

"She's my ex-girlfriend. We broke up about a year ago when I learned we would be moving back east."

"Wow, your ex is now my best friend. What are the odds?"

"Almost beyond belief." Dylan replies as he senses that there has been a lot of divine intervention in this meeting.

Carrying Stevie's backpack, Dylan escorts her the short distance from the class building to the nearby parking lot. Stevie manages quite well on her crutches although it is clear that her ankle is hurting her a lot. She is suitably impressed by the Porsche Dylan is driving, and with the top down, she has no trouble getting into the car. Dylan explains that the car belongs to his father, and will only be driving it until his dad returns to town. Stevie gives him her address, which is only a short drive northwest of the campus.

After a drive that takes longer than expected due to heavy traffic (Dylan had almost forgotten how difficult it can be to negotiate the streets of L.A.), they arrive in a neighborhood filled with beautiful old Victorian homes. Stevie points out her house and Dylan pulls into the driveway. As Dylan helps Stevie out of the car, a petite elderly lady from next door leaves her lovely garden and walks over to greet them...

"Stevie, dear girl, how are you doing? It's so good to see you up and out of the house."

"I'm doing much better Mrs Gonzalez, thank you. Mrs Gonzalez, this is a new friend of mine, Dylan Hunter."

Dylan and the elderly lady politely shake hands and exchange greetings. Mrs Gonzalez whispers to Stevie in Spanish...

("What a beautiful young man. Is he your new boyfriend?")

Stevie whispers back in the same language, (No ma'am, he's just a new friend.)

("Take my advice, don't let this amazing young stud slip through your fingers.")

Stevie blushes and laughs lightly as she switches back to English. "The things you say. I'm so going to miss you Mrs Gonzalez when you finally sell your home and move away."

"If I ever manage to sell the place. Over a month on the market and still no offers. Oh well, patience is a virtue, even if it is an annoying one. I'll be over with your lunch in a short while Stevie."

"You really don't have to bother, Mrs Gonzalez."

"Nonsense, it's no bother. Frankly, I enjoy having someone to cook for again, and you should stay off that ankle as much as possible. Dylan, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"The pleasure was all mine." Dylan replies while suppressing a smile. His Spanish was fairly fluent, and he had easily followed the 'secret' exchange between the elderly neighbor and Stevie.

As Mrs Gonzalez returns to her home, Dylan escorts Stevie to the front of her house. Stevie pauses and sighs as she faces the dozen stairs that lead up to the front porch.

Dylan says, "If you don't think I'm being too bold, may I...?"

Stevie nods her head and Dylan sweeps her up in his arms. He easily climbs the stairs as Stevie seems to be no more than a featherweight in his arms. She has to admit to herself that this "Me Tarzan/You Jane" moment has quite an appeal to her. The strength of his muscular arms and the warmth of his chest gives her just a bit of a giddy feeling. All too soon, he gently deposits her on the front porch, and using her key, he opens the door for her. Stevie knows that properly, she should just thank Dylan and send him on his way, but she can't seem to help herself when she asks...

"Would you like to come in?"

"Yes, thank you."

They travel through a large, classic foyer with lots of wood paneling and an impressive staircase that leads to the upstairs bedrooms. In the living room Stevie settles on the couch while Dylan takes in the top quality furnishings and dozens of framed photographs scattered about the room. Most of the pictures show Stevie at various ages with a couple who are undoubtedly her parents. Dylan is about to join Stevie on the couch when he spots one last photo...

"Oh-my-God, I don't believe this." Dylan says as he snatches up the picture of four teens studying in an attic bedroom.

"Something wrong?" Stevie asks.

"Luke Girardi, Grace Polk, Theodore Friedman and you. This is amazing."

Stevie gasps, "Wait, the high school you spent your senior year at was..."

"Arcadia High! So, while I was spending senior year at your old high school, you were at mine? This is beyond freaky. It's almost a hand of fate kind of thing."

"And you knew the sub-defectives?"

Dylan sits beside Stevie and smiles. "I'm proud to say I was actually voted in as a member."

Stevie chuckles. "You? You don't quite have the sub-defective image. I'm surprised you fit in with those guys."

"They were a good bunch, and I was glad to be their friend. So, how did you know the sub-defectives?"

"I started out as Adam's assistant at the design studio. After that, bit-by-bit, I became friends with the others--especially Friedman." Stevie replies with a slight blush.

"You and Friedman?"

"Well...sort of. He was so cute, and I had a huge crush on him, but he wasn't interested."

"Friedman passed on a girl who looks like you?"

"I guess he really wasn't ready to date again. He was still mourning Judith... Do you know about her?"

"Yeah, I heard the story. He loved her and Judith's death was hard for him to deal with. I was there with Friedman at the cemetery on the first anniversary of Judith's death. He quoted the entire play of Hamlet for her. I think he's finally at peace about her."

"I'm glad. Friedman and I were only together for a very short time, and mostly because his friends kept encouraging him to get on with his life. I don't know if we would have worked as a couple because it was right after that when we had to leave Arcadia..."

To Dylan's dismay, Stevie begins crying. It is a steady flow of sad tears and a look of such misery on her lovely face, it tugs at Dylan's heart. Instinctively, Dylan embraces the crying girl as she buries her face into his shoulder and continues to weep. This goes on for several minutes, but eventually she begins to calm down. Dylan hands her his handkerchief, and she wipes away her tears and blows her nose. Stevie gives him a small, embarassed smile.

"I'm sorry."

"Who did you lose?"

Stevie's chin trembles and Dylan thinks she is about to cry again, but she manages to whisper, "My parents."

"Oh Stevie, I'm so sorry. How did it happen?"

Stevie sighs and forces herself to be calm before replying. Dylan admires her courage.

"The Saturday before last was prom night. I hadn't done well in the social scene at Veebelfester, and I wasn't planning on going. But Cindy insisted and even dug up a prom date for me. I was reluctant, but my Mom also encouraged me to go. So I went and actually had a good time. My date turned out to be a really nice guy, and I fully enjoyed myself for the first time in about a year. Mom was, uh, out of town, and she died that night of a sudden heart attack. Dad and I didn't even learn of her death until the following Monday..."

Stevie's words choke off as she begins to cry again. Dylan gives her an encouraging hug.

"You couldn't have known, and you shouldn't feel guilty that you were having fun when all of this happened. Your mother wouldn't want you to think that way."

"I know, but it was such a shock. Mom was always so fit. We never imagined heart trouble at her age. Then last Saturday we had an internment ceremony for her ashes. It was a small service, just Dad and me with a couple of his friends and a couple of mine, plus a few people from our church, and of course dear Mrs Gonzalez. On the drive home Dad and I were both crying hard. Maybe that's why he reacted slowly when a van suddenly swerved into our lane..."

(Stevie pauses, reliving that terrible moment.)

"Dad was killed instantly, and I got pretty banged up, including this sprained ankle. I...I just couldn't take it. I broke down and spent every day since then in bed. I couldn't even bring myself to go to Dad's funeral. The church handled it for me. Then this morning Cindy arrived and insisted I go to the class I had signed up for. I'd forgotten all about it and didn't want to go, but Cindy literally dragged me out of bed. She dressed me, drove me to the campus and plunked me down in my seat. I just didn't have the energy to resist her. Cindy left just minutes before you arrived."

"I remember Cindy being very forceful when she needed to be. She also sounds like a good friend who has the right idea. You can't just wait for the pain to go away, because it doesn't. It eases with time, but it is always there."

"Dylan, you too?"

Dylan nods. "Six years ago my Mom died in a freeway accident. Like you, I just wanted to curl up into a ball of pain and stay that way, but Dad wouldn't let me. He said I had to force myself to go through the motions no matter how I felt. And he was right. My pain was there, but getting back to a normal routine helped a lot in dealing with that pain."

"Okay, I guess I can see the wisdom of that, but our cases are different. You still had your dad, but I'm all alone. My parents were the anchor for my life, especially since I'm adopted. Now I have no one, and I feel so adrift."

Dylan struggles to find a response, but is at a loss as to what to say. What did God want him to do in this situation? Desperately Dylan searches his mind and his heart for a solution. Did God intend for him to be Stevie's missing "anchor"? That was a lot bigger commitment than just being her friend as he had been instructed. He needed guidance.

Stevie senses Dylan's dilemma. "Hey, I'm sorry for laying all of this on you. Thanks for listening and for giving me an actual shoulder to cry on. I appreciate it."

"No problem. I'm always glad to help, including with transportation if you plan to be back at class on Wednesday?"

"I'll have to think about that and let you know."

Dylan and Stevie exchange contact information, and after a brief hug, Dylan exits the house. As he stands on Stevie's porch, Dylan wishes God was there to advise him. And then suddenly, there she was.

Walking down the street is a woman letter carrier who is blonde and rather average looking. But to Dylan, there is no doubt that this is another version of God. Just as promised, he would always know God in whatever form he/she adopted. Postal God pauses at Mrs Gonzalez's house to leave the mail, but as she leaves the yard she briefly taps the For Sale sign in front of the house. Quickly Dylan is down the steps and out to the sidewalk, but he sees Postal God give him a backhanded wave identical to the one Little Girl God gave him earlier. He takes this to mean: That's all for now.

"Leaving so soon, Dylan?"

Dylan turns and sees Mrs Gonzalez holding a basket with a couple of covered dishes and a fresh baked loaf of bread.

"Yes Mrs Gonzalez, time for me to be moving on. That food smells delicious. It's very nice of you to fix lunch for Stevie."

"The least I could do for such a sweet girl, especially considering the hard time she's been having."

"I know what you mean. I wish I could do something to help her."

"Well, seducing her isn't the answer, young man."

Dylan blushes and stammers, "I wasn't planning... I mean, I'd never..."

Mrs Gonzalez laughs at Dylan's discomfort. "I thought you were a nice boy, and I was right. I'm glad, because Stevie is very vulnerable right now, and someone less ethical than you could easily take advantage of her. Be her friend, Dylan. That's what she needs."

"I will, ma'am. She needs as many friends as she can get. Too bad you will be leaving when you sell your house. Did I hear right, you've had no offers?"

"None. Mr. Gee, my real estate agent, says I'll have to drastically lower my price."

"But it's such a beautiful old house, and seems very well cared for."

"Yes, my husband did a wonderful job maintaining our home, but he passed three years ago and it is too much of a house for me to care for. Unfortunately, the home inspector found major electrical and plumbing problems as well as some structural damage. It would take a fortune to fix, and I may have to sell at about half price."

"That's terrible. I'm sorry."

"As am I, because there goes my retirement plans. There's a wonderful retirement community I wanted to move to, but it is very expensive. I have a nice pension and my social security, but I needed the investment money from the sale of my house to afford my new dream home. Instead, I'll have to settle for one of those cheap, crapshack places old people go to in order to die."

Again Dylan wishes he had some useful advice or help to offer. Why was God putting him in these no-win situations?

Mrs Gonzalez continues, "Well, I better get Stevie's lunch inside before it gets cold. It was nice to meet you, Dylan."

"You too, ma'am."

Dylan enters the Porsche and as he drives away, he again wonders what God was thinking when he/she decided to pick him to be his chosen instrument?

X X X X X

An hour later, after a quick stop for a fast food lunch, Dylan returns to his sister Barbara's apartment. As he pulls into his parking place, Dylan is elated to see a familiar burgundy minvan parked next to him. Exiting the minivan is a physically older version of Dylan, his father Dr. John Hunter.

"Dad!" Dylan exclaims as he and his father exchange a hearty bear hug greeting. "When did you arrive?"

"Just a few minutes ago. It's good to see you again, Dylan."

"You too. We expected you days ago. Why were you delayed in your return from Arcadia?"

"Uh, I'm afraid that's something I can't talk about."

"Oh. Gotcha." Dylan responds with a shrug. Many would find this ready acceptance of such a non-answer strange, but Dylan was use to such responses from his father. Usually it meant a crisis with a patient of his psychiatrist father, which ethically he couldn't talk about. (But, it had also become a convient excuse for Dr. Hunter over the years when he was on one of his secret missions for God.)

Dylan helps his father carry in his luggage and place it in the spare bedroom they would be tempoarily sharing.

"I'm glad Barbara has twin beds in her guest room. You've gotten way too big to share with." Dr. Hunter remarks.

"Fortunately it is for only a few days, that is if you are going to exercise your option on the new house?"

"I'll have to wait until I see the place in person and get a feel for it. The photos I got of the house were great, but a decision like this is definitely a hands-on one. Of course my decision will depend a lot on whether or not you are sure you want to continue living with your old man?"

"Sure I do, I told you that."

"I know, but since you turned 18, you have control of your share of your mother's estate. Now that you are going to college, and have the means to support yourself, it is only normal that you would want a place of your own."

"Eager to get rid of me?"

"Hardly. I'll be lonely and miserable without you, but I knew this moment was coming and I'm prepared for it. I realize it is part of the maturing process, and I won't be offended if you choose to leave."

"Yeah, I've thought a lot about this. When you uprooted us to Arcadia last year, I couldn't wait to turn 18 and get out on my own."

"I knew you were angry about that decision, and I thought you handled it very well."

"Well, after we got there I began to see things differently. Partly because of how I felt about Joan, and partly because I fell for Uncle Ryan's deceitful lies..."

Dylan pauses. The subject of his Dad's brother was a sensitive subject between them, but this time Dylan can see a new level of pain in his father's eyes. Hastily, he continues...

"Anyway, after our rather bizarre year in Arcadia, I realized how much our relationship means to me, not just as father and son, but also as friends and as your place as a mentor in my life. So, if you're willing to put up with me for a few more years, I thought I might continue to be under your roof during my college days."

John Hunter smiles broadly and hugs his son. When they seperate, they are both a little misty-eyed. Dr. Hunter quickly asks...

"So, when does your sister get home?"

"I never know. Now that she has that intern position at the TV show, her hours are crazy. Apparently that's common in show business. But one bit of good news, when Barbara gets her diploma, the show is going to offer her a paid position as a production assistant."

"I knew Barbara would do well. She's always been a hard worker and very smart, but that show... 'Imroper' indeed."

Dylan smiles. "I know it's a pretty low brow show, even for a network comedy, but Barbara is lucky to be getting this work experience right out of college. The show has been renewed for next season, so at least she will be employed in her chosen field."

"Well, I'm glad for that, especially since the ratings have been sliding for Improper."

"Dad, you follow the show?"

"Of course, but only out of loyalty to Barbara. Normally I wouldn't waste my time with such drivel. How long can the show expect to continue with malfunctioning technology jokes?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Set 50 years in the future, the premise of constantly failing technology seemed funny at first, but it has become a one-joke show that bores me. Don't tell Barbara I said that."

Dr. Hunter smiles. "I feel the same way, but I won't mention that to Barbara either. Is she sensitive about criticism of the the show?"

"Very, but I think that's just loyalty to her first time employer. I believe, down deep, Barbara knows the show sucks."

From the front doorway comes an angry voice, "No, you suck little brother."

Dylan blushes as he turns to face his half sister, but she ignores him as she spots John Hunter.

"Step-dad!" Barbara squeals as she delightedly rushes into John's welcoming embrace.

"Hey beautiful, it's so good to see you again."

They linger in an affectionate hug, the love between them undeniably real. They part and Dr. Hunter smiles at his lovely step-daughter.

"How is it possible that you get prettier every time I see you?"

"Simple. The older I get, the more I look like Mom. Now, were you two really trashing the show I pour my heart and soul into every week?"

Like his son, Dr. Hunter blushes. "Sorry. We didn't mean to offend you..."

"Hey, I know Improper is struggling, but we're a new show that's still trying to find its' way. Trust me, all summer long the producers will be working hard smoothing out the rough spots."

"And I will remain a loyal viewer who hopes you will be successful with those 'rough spots'."

Dylan asks, "Barbara, what are you doing home so early? You usually don't drag in here until very late."

"When will you learn my schedule? After my usual morning chores at work, I get a few hours off because I have to be back this evening for the audience reaction viewing of the show."

"Audience reaction?" Dr. Hunter asks.

"Yeah, because the show has so many special effects, we can't do it before a live audience. So to get realistic reactions to the show's gags, we run it for a studio audience. Although..."

"Although?"

Barbara sighs. "Okay, this is just between us. Lately we've had to add a little bit of laugh track enhancements because the audience response has been a kind of flat."

The Hunter men remain silent, realizing what a painful admission this was for Barbara. She quickly changes the subject.

"So John, how was your trip?"

"Long. Driving across this country is a beautiful experience, but eventually it wears you out. I'm glad to be back in L.A. and I look forward to regaining my normal life."

"I'm sure all of your friends and colleagues will be glad to have you back. I know I really missed you during your time in Arcadia, and John, I'm sorry how things turned out with your brother."

John Hunter nods, but says nothing. Barbara realizes this is a sore spot for her stepfather.

"Hey, if you're not too tired, would you like to attend the running of the show tonight? I can introduce you to the stars of the show."

"Thank you Barbara, that sounds wonderful."

"How about you, Dylan?"

"I think I'll pass. I've already had the experience, and once was more than enough."

Barbara sticks her tongue out at her brother and Dr. Hunter laughs. He gives his two kids another hug.

"Now, that's the warm family moment I was waiting for."

X X X X X

For much of that afternoon Dr. Hunter spends his time on the phone reconnecting with old friends. His colleagues in his old Beverly Hills practice are delighted to have their friend rejoining them. The pastor of his home church is overjoyed to have such a dedicated member returning to the flock. One last call is to Felicity Brewster, the realtor who is handling the sale of the new home in Brentwood.

"I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon to see the house. " Dr. Hunter says as he hangs up the phone.

Barbara responds, "It's a good thing you got back in town when you did. Your 30 day option on the new house runs out in a few days."

"We still have over a week to make the final decision, but I am glad I got back in time for something far more important. I wouldn't want to miss your graduation on Saturday."

Barbara's voice quivers... "Step-dad, you remembered?"

"Of course. How could I forget one of my kids graduating from college?"

A single tear slides from Barbara's eyes. "Apparently it's not that hard. Hi forgot."

John Hunter mutters under his breath about the uselessness of Hiram Greyson as a father. "How do you know?"

"Because I received an invitation for Saturday morning to attend Hi's latest wedding."

"Another marriage? How many is this?"

"Number six. But hey, he has four other kids, so he has plenty of opportunities to attend college graduations. Maybe he will eventually make it to one of them."

The bitterness in Barbara's voice is intense, and for a moment Dr. Hunter thinks his step-daughter will break down, but she steels herself against her emotions. This is a skill she has mastered during her lifetime of interaction with her real father, Hiram Greyson.

At that moment Dylan enters the living room, pointing at his watch. "Hey, I thought you two were leaving early?"

Dr. Hunter responds, "That's right, I was promised a tour of the studio before the show."

With a nod and a brave smile, Barbara agrees. She and Dr. Hunter exit while Dylan breathes a sigh of relief. As much as he loves his family, Dylan feels the need for privacy so he can think. Briefly he considers revealing all to his father, who is a very religious man. Perhaps Dad would believe him when he said he had met God in the form of a little girl?

No, Dad is a psychiatrist and he knows 'talking to God' is a classic sign of insanity. This makes Dylan think about Joan and Uncle Ryan. Each accused the other of speaking to God. But in a public statement, Dr. Hunter explained Joan's God delusion had been brief and due to a bout with Lyme disease. But Uncle Ryan was declared insane.

Of course even though Ryan was crazy, did that automatically mean it wasn't true about him talking to God? Maybe that had something to do with his uncle losing his mind. Certainly Dylan is feeling a little crazy trying to figure out what God wanted him to do. One of the problems involves Mrs Gonzalez's sale of her house. But in what way? Was he suppose to help her find just the right buyer? Or maybe she wasn't suppose to sell her house at this time?

Then there was the matter of Stevie. He is suppose to become her friend, and certainly she needs all the friends she can get at this difficult time. But that isn't the real problem. Without her parents, this 18 year old girl has no roots, no sense of stability in her life. She needs someone who will love and cherish her unconditionally, and the only solution Dylan can think of is that Stevie needs...(gulp), a husband.

Dylan groans in dismay. Stevie is pretty and very nice, but surely God doesn't expect him to carry this assignment that far? But what if this is divinely ordained? Maybe some grand plan of God's that he can't even begin to imagine needed him to marry Stevie. Would he obey? Dylan's heart pains him at this thought. There is only one girl he can ever imagine wanting to marry...Joan Girardi.

Maybe...maybe he should call Joan and ask for more information about Stevie. He is certain that Stevie left out a lot of details in her background story... No, what was he thinking? Stevie never mentioned even knowing Joan, and such a call would just be an excuse to talk to her again. Joan made it clear they were to remain just friends, and he didn't want to fall into some sort of stalker pattern. But he does need more info, and there is an old friend who can supply him with what he needs to know. Dylan uses his cell phone to call The Friedman.

"Hello..?"

Dylan hears the voice, panics and disconnects. There was no mistake, he had called Friedman, but the one who answered was his ex-lover, Dillon Samuels!

X X X X X

In Dillon Samuel's bedroom in Arcadia Maryland, Friedman stirs from his nap. Like a lot of guys, he tends to fall asleep shortly after sex. He opens one eye and smiles at the pretty blonde next to him.

"Was that the phone?" Friedman mumbles between yawns.

"Yes, but he hung up. I'm sorry." Dillon replies.

"Sorry?"

"It was my idea to match our ringtones. I thought it was romantic."

"You answered my phone by mistake? Who called?" Friedman asks while trying to hide his nervousness. They had only been lovers for a few days, and there were a lot of awkward possibilities...

Dillon turns the phone screen toward Friedman and he reads the name of the caller--Dylan Hunter. Damn, 'awkward' doesn't begin to cover it. A feeling of guilt sweeps over Friedman. Starting last September, and to his surprise, he and Dylan had struck up a close friendship. That friendship was nearly shattered when he began dating Joan after her break-up with Dylan. When his own romantic relationship with Joan ended, his friendship with Dylan had begun to repair...

But now, less than two weeks after Dylan had escorted Dillon to the senior prom, he was sharing the bed of yet another of his friend's exes. For the first time Friedman considers how this will affect Dylan, and he realizes how low he has sunk in not following the 'guy code'.

Friedman sighs. "I have no choice, I have to call him back. He's going to hate me for this."

Dillon frowns and replies, "It may be worse than you expect. I didn't tell you this, but after the prom, Dylan told me he loved me, and wanted us to be a couple."

"But, I thought after your break-up, the two of you only dated in a platonic sort of way. His self-imposed pennance for hurting you."

"I thought so too, but apparently for Dylan it became more. I didn't realize it, and when he asked me to be his girlfriend for real, I had to reject him. Imagine, me being the one who ended up breaking Dylan Hunter's heart." Dillon says with a sad voice, but she can't quite hide the small smile that briefly crosses her lips.

Friedman takes this in and quickly realizes the true nature of the situation. Dylan had set up that scenario so he could soothe Dillon's crushed ego. His one last gift to the girl he felt he had wronged. Of course Friedman would never reveal that to Dillon, but the realization of his friend's kindness makes him feel even lower about himself.

"Maybe I should be alone when I make this call."

Dillon nods. "I'll go make us some snacks. I want you to keep your strength built up for round two."

Dillon gives him a naughty smile, slips on a silk robe and leaves the bedroom. Fortunately, Dillon's mother was at her job at Don Thornberry's at this time of night. Friedman watches his beautiful lover leave the room and feels himself stir. Round two? If they could muster the energy, rounds three and four. Friedman dials Dylan's cell.

"Hello." Dylan answers, sounding reluctant. He too has caller I.D.

"Hey buddy, sorry about that mix-up."

"So...you and Dillon?"

"Yeah... Look, if you want to hate me I'll understand. By the way, she's out of the room so you can talk freely."

"How...when...why?"

"I am so stupid. The two of you broke up after such a short relationship, it just didn't occur to me that I might be stepping on your toes. I swear I'm not deliberately going after your ex-girlfriends. I mean, the two of you were just friends or so I thought."

"Uh, Friedman..."

"Relax, she just told me about prom night and I think I understand. Don't worry, my lips are sealed."

"Good. The last thing I would want is to reopen that old wound. So, skipping over the awkwardness of this conversation, I actually called about something potentially as awkward. It's about an old friend of yours, Bridget Berkin."

"Who?"

"Bridget Berkin...goes by the nickname of Stevie?"

"You must mean Stevie Marx. How the hell did you meet her?"

"We're taking a college class together. Did you say her name was Marx? Are we talking about the same girl?"

"Honey-blonde hair, beautiful smile and uh, big boobs?"

"That's her. What's with the multiple names?"

"That's kind of a long story, and I heard about it second hand, which is why I didn't remember the name Bridget Berkin. I was away on a cruise with my family when all of this happened, but I can give you most of the details. Stevie was working as Adam's assistant at the design studio where he was employed. They needed her social security number, but Stevie didn't know it, and her mom wouldn't give it to her."

"Why not?"

"Here's where it gets really weird. Stevie Marx was actually born Bridget Berkin, the daughter of some junkie in Texas. The social worker on the case, I forget her real name, became convinced that 'Bridget' was in great danger because of the junkie mother's lack of care of the baby. So, she kidnapped the baby and took the names of Erica and Stevie for the two of them."

"Wow. That's bizarre."

"The story continues, Erica--as we knew her--married a guy named Charlie Marx, and they settled in Arcadia. Erica claimed Stevie was her adopted daughter and no one else knew the truth, not even Charlie and Stevie."

"So what happened?"

Friedman hesitates. He knows Joan was deeply involved in the the fate of Stevie Marx, but now that he is in on her big secret, he has re-evaluated the many odd things she has done over the years...

"Uh, Stevie's inability to find her social security number and Erica's odd behavior aroused suspicion. Eventually the police became involved and it didn't take them long to find out the truth. Erica Marx was arrested, but because she did what she did to save a child, the prosecutor cut her a deal--three years in minimum security. Kind of an ironic end for her."

"Ironic?"

"Sure, Erica had been using her stolen identity for years without being caught. If she had stayed calm and simply given Stevie her number, the deception probably would have gone on forever."

"Yeah...ironic. Okay, I guess that's all I need. Thanks Friedman."

"Glad to help. Uh, are we okay?"

"Yeah, sure. I wish the two of you all the best."

"Thanks, but I think I will tell Dillon you were seething with jealousy."

Dylan chuckles. "That might be best."

X X X X X

6-6-06/Tuesday morning.

John Hunter had a lot of plans for his first full day back in Los Angeles, but this morning finds him making the long drive out to Malibu to confront Hiram Greyson. This is a necessary but disagreeable task for Dr. Hunter. Twenty years of interaction with the man has stretched his patience to its' limits.

In a way, he feels sorry for Hiram 'Hi' Greyson. Hi is a man who has spent a lifetime confusing passion with love. His unending pattern is to begin an extremely passionate affair with a beautiful young woman and then quickly marry her. About two or three years into the relationship, usually just after the birth of a child, the passion between them would begin to wane. Hi took this to mean he was no longer in love and would suddenly ask for a divorce from his stunned, unsuspecting wife.

Sylvia Greyson was the first to experience this fate. In her younger days Sylvia, an heiress and a beauty contest winner, became convinced her future was in being Hollywood's next sex symbol. After a few bit parts in 'B' movies, Sylvia met and married that rapidly rising film director, Hi Greyson. After the emotional devastation of her divorce, like so many other people in a life crisis, Sylvia turned to God.

It was at church where John Hunter, a young med school graduate, met and fell in love with Sylvia. Their eventual marriage included the wonderful addition of her toddler daughter, Barbara, Over the years Dr. Hunter had tried often to adopt Barbara, but Hi Greyson, an indifferent part-time father, never would agree. So when Sylvia died, 16 year old Barbara was sent by family court order to live with her real father.

To everyone's surprise, especially Hi's, he quickly embraced and enjoyed the role of full time father. Unwilling to compromise his hectic schedule, Hi simply made Barbara his personal assistant and arranged for private tutors to come to the various TV and movie sets where he worked. From this came Barbara's love of the industry and a determination to follow her father's line of work.

Dr. Hunter pulls his Porsche into the driveway of a Malibu mansion that is as spectacular as the view of the beach. His knock at the front door is answered by a familiar, smiling face...

"Dr. Hunter, welcome back!" Hi's housekeeper of many years says.

"Thank you, Ingris. Is he in?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Greyson and the new one are finishing breakfast on the deck. You know the way. Would you like some coffee?"

"No thanks, I've had my quota of caffeine for the day."

Ingris waves him in, and Dr. Hunter makes his way to the expansive deck. He pauses briefly at the open sliding door...

"Knock-knock. May I join you?"

Hi Greyson and his fiancee glance over to their unexpected visitor. Normally a genial host, Hi does his best to hide his annoyance at John Hunter's visit. The fiancee is young (no more than two years older than Barbara), very pretty and blonde (they were always blonde). She smiles tentatively at the stranger in their midst.

"Debra, allow me to introduce a very old acquaintance of mine, Dr. John Hunter. John, this is my lovely bride-to-be, Debra Andersen."

The pretty blonde smiles again. "Barbara's step-father? She has mentioned you often. May we offer you breakfast?"

Dr. Hunter smiles back as he sits. Debra seems nice, but then all of Hi's wives were nice. However did 49 year old Hi Greyson manage to win the love of this beautiful and charming young woman?

"Thank you, but I've already eaten."

"When did you get back, John?" Hi asks.

"Yesterday afternoon."

"And one of your first visits is to me? I'm...honored?"

"Actually Hi, I'm here about Barbara."

"What else? So what horrible mistake as a father are you here to point out this time?" Hi asks with unconcealed resentment. Twenty years of John Hunter's interference in his relationship with his daughter has left him with an urge to punch the guy in the nose. Only John's height and impressive muscles kept this urge under control.

"Hi, Barbara is graduating from college at 10:00 a.m. on Saturday."

Debra gasps, "This Saturday? But we're getting married Saturday morning. Hi, how could you have gotten this so mixed up?"

Hi Greyson is one of those people who literally scratches his head when thinking... "Barbara is graduating? I thought she still had a year to go. Isn't that why she is working as an unpaid intern on Improper? Because she doesn't have her degree yet?"

"The university arranged the internship as a part of her last semester's curriculum. Starting next week, Barbara will be a paid production assistant."

"Oh crap, I blew it! Damn, what a mess. Barbara must hate me for this."

"She's...hurting, especially since she has spent the last four years trying to follow in your footsteps." Dr. Hunter says with a trace of his own resentment showing. His daughter (and that's how he thinks of Barbara) was wasting her time trying to gain the respect of a man who has ignored her for most of her life.

Hi continues, "I wish...I wish there was some way to fix this, but it's too late. The invitations have been sent, and half of Hollywood's 'A' list will be here Saturday morning."

Both Hi and John go silent, not seeing a way out.

Debra interjects, "Hi, you simply can't miss this milestone in your daughter's life. I won't hear of it!"

"But the invitations?"

"What is this, the 19th century? We have phones, text messages and e-mails we can use to notify people that we'll be having the wedding later in the day. Say around 4:00 p.m.?"

Hi says, "Are you sure? It's going to be a huge hassle to change everything at the last moment."

"Hey, it's the least I can do for my new step-daughter."

Dr. Hunter breathes a sigh of relief. He was right, Hi has a very nice new bride. He desperately hopes she will have better luck than her five predecessors. After a few more details are worked out, Dr. Hunter prepares to leave. He and Hi share a rare handshake.

"Thanks for the heads-up John, and I really mean it this time."

"No problem, Hi."

Debra adds, "One last thought occurs to me. Maybe it would be better if Hi got all the credit for realizing the mix up and for making all the changes to fix it."

"Absolutely." Dr. Hunter replies. Normally he hated social deceptions, but for Barbara, anything.

As Dr. Hunter gets to the door, Hi calls out... "John, considering the date, you be careful out there."

"What does that mean?"

"Good Lord man, haven't you been following all the hype? This is the dreaded triple six day. The 6th day of the 6th month of the year oh-six. Some people are predicting the end of the world. Others are saying the devil and his demons will be out in full force today."

Dr. Hunter chuckles. "That's a modern misconception. When the Book of Revealation was written, the number '6' as we know it hadn't been invented yet. The 6-6-6 number would have been written in Roman numerals: D-C-L-X-V-I. Besides, the true believer has nothing to fear from the evil one. It's only certain non-believers who need to be concerned."

Hi smirks. "As you know, I'm quite comfortable with my atheism."

Dr. Hunter nods, but he notices Debra's quick shocked glance at her intended. Oh ho, she's a believer. Dr. Hunter smiles. This time Hi Greyson may have bitten off more than he can chew.

X X X X X

Early that afternoon Dylan Hunter, back in his familiar minivan, comes to a stop in front of a large Colonial style home in the Brentwood neighborhood. He notes his father's Porsche and a Mercedes sedan that no doubt belongs to the real estate agent. Dylan checks his watch and sees he is right on time. Of course his father is a little compulsive about punctuality, so he usually arrives early.

Dylan enters the house and stops dead in his tracks. Before him is an incredible raven-haired beauty of about 33 who greets him with a very alluring smile. Dylan feels a shocking sexual stirring that he normally keeps under control in the presence of desireable women.

"Hello, you must be Dylan Hunter. Your father is in the backyard inspecting the grounds. By the way, I'm Felicity Brewster."

"N-Nice to meet you." Dylan stammers as he blushes and feels perspiration forming. What was happening to him? This stunning woman seems to exude waves of irresistible sensuality.

"Would you like me to show you the house or answer any questions?"

"Maybe...maybe you could just give me the highlights?"

As Felicity replies, Dylan unsuccessfully tries not to stare at her large breasts... "Off to our right is the formal living room and dining room, to our left is a den and a game room. Upstairs there are three large bedroom suites, each with a private bath. Now if you will follow me, I want to show you the back of the house."

Dylan gladly follows Felicity, admiring the sway of her hips and her shapely butt. The term 'cougar' comes to his mind--mature women who enjoy seducing much younger guys. Maybe...?

"As you can see, there's a huge family room, a breakfast nook and of course, this beautiful gourmet kitchen. Here we have Spanish tile, an oak butcher block, brand new stainless steel appliances and these hand crafted granite counter tops..."

The room was beautiful, but Dylan's only thought is to lift Felicity on to one of those counter tops, slide his hands under that short skirt and... Dylan shakes his head, appalled by the crude nature of his thoughts. He must clear his head.

"I-I think I'll join my Dad outside."

Felicity gives him a knowing smile. Oh Lord, was she aware of what he was thinking? Hastily, Dylan exits while already meditating on bible verses as he tries to regain control of his libido. Outside, Dylan spots his father leaning against a tree and quietly muttering bible verses too. Apparently Dylan isn't the only one affected by the sexy woman inside.

"Hello Dad." Dylan says as he wipes away sweat from his upper lip.

"Hello Dylan. Did you like the house?"

"Yes, it's great. Ms Brewster gave me a quick look through."

"I liked it too...as well as Felicity. She is an amazing woman."

Dylan gulps. "Yes sir, I noticed how...lovely she is."

"Yes indeed. In fact, I was thinking of asking her out. What do you think of that?"

"Dad, if you're asking if I think it's okay for you to be dating--absolutely. It has been six years since Mom died, and you're way overdue with getting on with your life. Now if you're asking specifically about Ms Brewster, I don't know what to advise. I only just met her."

"As have I, but our stay in Arcadia convinced me I have spent too many years alone. Felicity is the first woman to really capture my attention in a long time, and I've decided I will ask her out. I just hope I'm not too much out of practice."

At that moment, Felicity exits the house...

"Gentlemen, what is the fascination with this backyard?"

Dr. Hunter replies, "We just needed some time to discuss the prospect of making this place our home."

"And have you reached a decision?"

"We're getting close. I think I'll take a look at the apartment over the garage."

Dr. Hunter strolls away, and Felicity begins to follow him. Dylan stops her with a loud 'ahem'.

"Yes Dylan?"

Dylan carefully keeps his distance and focuses his gaze on a spot a couple of inches above the head of this alluring woman...

"This is totally off topic Ms Brewster..."

"Call me Felicity."

"Okay...Felicity. I was wondering if you have ever heard of a firm called O. Gee Realty?" Dylan asks, remembering the name on the sign in front of Mrs Gonzalez's house.

"Checking out my competition?"

"It's jusy that a lady I know has her house listed with the company, and I was wondering...?"

Felicity frowns. "Is this 'lady' an elderly woman?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Dylan, I don't want you to think I'm running down another firm just to boost my own, but I've heard some really shady rumors about Othar Gee and his associates."

"What sort of rumors?"

"That he targets elderly clients because of their trusting nature and unfamiliarity with current real estate values. I've heard he drives down the asking price as low as he can, and then buys the house through a dummy corporation. Less than a month later, he flips the place for a huge profit."

"How does he get away with that?"

"Most of his victims are unaware they've been swindled. The few who complain to the police get nowhere for lack of evidence."

"Mrs Gonzalez said a home inspector found major problems with the house, and on Mr. Gee's advice, she was considering selling at half price."

Felicity's voice echoes with furious outrage. "That rat bastard is pulling that old scam? He uses a paid off inspector to scare the old lady into selling cheap. Tell you what, if you can get this Mrs Gonzalez to agree, I can have three independent inspectors at her house tomorrow morning. If the house easily passes inspection, we might get the police interested in going after the crooked inspector, and through him, Othar Gee."

"Wow, thanks Ms...I mean, Felicity. This is an amazing offer."

"Glad to do it. Crooks like Gee damage everyone in the real estate business. I'd like nothing better than to nail this S.O.B." Felicity says, a genuine passion for justice in her voice.

"I'll call Mrs Gonzalez and if I can get her to co-operate, I'll contact you."

"Excellent. And...here comes your father."

Dr. hunter approaches looking slightly peeved that Dylan has delayed Felicity in joining him. She smiles beautifully and asks...

"John, everything to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, the apartment is fine for guests or a live-in servant. Everything seems acceptable."

"I'm glad. Sorry for not joining you, but Dylan and I got into a discussion about...real estate. So, are we ready to sign papers?"

John hesitates, not wanting to cut short his time with Felicity. Dylan interjects...

"Maybe we should check out the neighborhood before making a final decision? Dad, you and Felicity could go north, while I go south. Later, we can compare notes."

"An excellent idea, son." Dr. Hunter says with a grateful wink.

"That sounds like fun" Felicity says as she takes John's arm. He blushes and grins ear to ear.

As they begin to walk away, Felicity calls over her shoulder, "Dylan, since you're headed south, watch for my home church. It's two blocks from here."

Dyln waves an acknowledgement and watches as they walk away. He sighs. Even at this distance it takes all of his willpower not to undress Felicity with his eyes. This woman must literally stop traffic.

Dylan uses his cell phone to find Mrs Gonzalez's phone number and calls her. He explains the situation and to his surprise, she isn't the least bit shocked.

"Young man, I might be over seventy, but I'm not naive about the evil ways of people. I'll expect those home inspectors bright and early tomorrow morning, and if Mr. Othar Gee--ridiculous name--turns out to be a con artist, I am so going to kick him in his nads."

Dylan laughs, thanks Mrs Gonzalez and disconnects. She was a feisty old lady, and he is glad this first assignment included helping her. Dylan pauses as he spots a rather generic church-like building. It is Felicity's home church, the Brentwood Chapel of Peace. Next to the church, under a leafy tree is a small bench where a middle aged woman is sitting. To many people the most noticeable thing about the woman is her crazy hat. It is a lavender straw sombrero with white ribbons and enormous pink feathers. But to Dylan, the most noticeable thing is that she is God.

As Dylan come closer, he hesitates. What was the proper procedure here? Instinctively he feels he should drop to his knees, but Crazy Hat God pats the bench beside her. Reluctantly, Dylan sits in the presence of the Almighty.

"Hello Dylan, enjoying your asignment?"

"I'm...not sure. There's still a lot up in the air. Am I right in thinking all will work out okay for Mrs Gonzalez?"

"Yes, that simple matter will proceed like clockwork, and Othar Gee will reap what he has sewn."

"Great. But about Stevie, are you asking...requiring that I..."

"Dylan, all I asked was that you be her friend, and that is still all I am asking. Whatever else that may or may not occur depends on the free will choices of you and Stevie."

"Okay...and that leaves the matter of Felicity Brewster." (Dylan pauses, blushing deeply. He wishes he could pretend he isn't incredibly turned on by Felicity, but he knows there is no way to fool God.) "There is something...unnatural about her."

Crazy Hat God smiles. "You are more perceptive than most of the people I call into service. Felicity Brewster represents a connection in your life. Most connections are neutral because people live blurred lives of good and bad choices that balance each other out. However, there are a few who by their consistent choices tip the natural balance..."

"Like my Uncle Ryan?"

A look of great sadness crosses God's face at the mention of Ryan's name. Dylan quickly adds...

"Then it's true? You spoke with Ryan just like this?"

"Yes, for most of his life Ryan and I spoke to each other."

"Then how could he turn against you the way he did?"

"By his free will Ryan chose a dark path that led him away from me, and he could not be persuaded otherwise."

"And is Felicity Brewster like Uncle Ryan?"

Crazy Hat God shrugs. Dylan finds that disconcerting. God shrugs?

"Felicity Brewster is an unusual example of one who regularly swings between extreme choices. You witnessed her genuine desire to stop Othar Gee's abuses, and a passion to help his victims."

"And her sexual...power?"

Crazy Hat God stands and smiles. "That is a topic for a future conversation when you have gained more experience. Dylan, I know like most humans you would like everything tied up in a nice, neat package--clearly labeled. But life isn't like that. If you must label this first assignment, then it is about letting go of the past so you can embrace the future."

With that, Crazy Hat God walks away. Dylan watches until he sees the backhanded wave. He then hears a familiar voice...

"Well, if it isn't the ultimate boyscout. Dylan, what are you doing here?"

Dylan turns and sees ex-cheerleader/ex-girlfriend, Cindy Sullivan. "Hello Cindy, I could ask you the same thing."

"Today is the church's food bank day. Members come by and load up their cars with supplies and distribute them to the poor."

"Then this is your home church? I didn't know you had one."

"Yes, that's a change for me since we last met. Not only that, but I'm in charge of running today's program. So again, what brings you by?"

"Dad and I are looking at a house in this neighborhood, and the real estate agent mentioned her home church was a couple of blocks away."

"Oh, you must mean Miss Brewster. Yes, she attends here, as does Stevie."

"Stevie too?" Dylan asks while realizing there was a divine hand behind all of these coincidences.

"Yes, when Stevie and I struck up a friendship back in September, I invited her to attend. She liked the church and the next Sunday, her dad came too. They both became members. So...since you're here, would you like to help? We could always use a strong guy to help load canned goods."

"I'd be glad to help with such a worthy cause."

"Great, and each member has a scheduled time so we won't get backed up." Cindy says as she sits next to Dylan.

"Good planning." Dylan comments as he takes in Cindy's appearance. She is as pretty as ever, but she seems more subdued than he remembers.

"I talked with Stevie. She says the two of you got along well."

"Yes, it turns out we have several friends in common."

"Oh that's right, you went to her home town of Arcadia last year. I'm glad you were there for her when I had car trouble."

"Nothing serious, I hope?"

"My stupid little brother thought it would be funny to stick 'play-doh' up my car's tailpipe. I'll be so glad when he grows out of this constant pest stage."

Dylan chuckles and asks, "And how are your parents doing?"

"Dad transferred into SWAT, but Mom isn't sure how she feels about that."

"Give them my best." Dylan says, painfully aware of how uncomfortable this small talk is. He continues... "So, when you were on the phone yesterday with Stevie, you asked her to confirm my description and then you asked her something to which she replied, 'Very.' What was that about?"

This time Cindy chuckles. "Oh that. I asked her: 'And is he incredibly sexy in a not really aware of it kind of way'?"

Dylan blushes. "I never did get your sense of humor."

Cindy chuckles again. "Out of curiosity, how would you describe yourself?"

Dylan shrugs. "Tall, sort of athletic and kind of ordinary looking."

Cindy cackles with laughter. "Amazing. You really are clueless about how hot you are."

"There's that sense of humor again."

"So you never noticed how every girl at Veebelfester High was drooling over you?"

"No, and I'm sure I would have remembered that. Certainly none of them ever acted that way."

"That's because I had my claws out and made sure every girl in school knew that if they made a play for my boyfriend, then they would be in for the cat fight of a lifetime!"

"But...if you felt that strongly about me, how could you...cheat on me?"

Dylan pauses, shocked by how bitter he sounds. Did he really care that much? Cindy lowers her head and blushes...

"How you must hate me."

"No, of course not. I'll admit I was annoyed when I learned the truth, but really, I..." Dylan stops, the hypocrisy in his voice too blatant to ignore. Swallowing hard, he tries again, "Cindy, you were my first serious girlfriend, and even though I knew we weren't involved in some great, enduring love affair, I was very fond of you. I thought you felt the same way."

"Dylan, I was so much more than 'fond' of you."

"Then why?"

Cindy sighs heavily. "You know how people are always telling teenage girls to wait, to be sure it is the right time for them? After dating you all of junior year, I knew I was ready. My right time had come, but you were so dedicated to that no premarital sex idea. I knew I could never get you in bed short of getting you drunk and slipping you one of those four hour erection pills."

"Your sense of humor..."

Cindy gives him a look that says: You think I'm kidding? "Anyway, my hormones were about to explode, and I knew our relationship was faltering, so when I met Raoul..."

"Yeah, how the hell is good old Raoul?" Dylan asks, no longer surprised by his bitterness.

"I wouldn't know. I haven't seen him since about two weeks after you and I broke up." (This time the bitterness is in Cindy's voice.)

"What happened?"

"Raoul was so handsome, and seemed so nice... I thought he really cared for me, maybe even loved me a little. Turns out, I was just another notch on his bedpost. Someone he could brag about to his buddies. After he got what he wanted..." (Cindy shudders) "he dumped me and laughed about it. I heard how he did a mock imitation of me when I cried..."

Looking supremely embarassed, and wishing she could stop, Cindy starts to cry. Dylan, like most guys, couldn't handle it when girls cry. His heart melts, and he takes Cindy into his arms. She turns her head into his shoulder, and just like Stevie the day before, she cries her eyes out. After several minutes, Cindy begins to regain control of herself. Dylan hands her his handkerchief while thinking he needs to start carrying a spare. He gently whispers to her...

"I'm sorry you got hurt."

To his surprise, Cindy punches him in the arm as hard as she can. She winces from the blow. It was like hitting iron.

Dylan protests, "Hey, what's the big idea?"

"Don't you be nice to me. Don't you dare! I was the one who was wrong, and...I got what I deserved."

Dylan thinks of Dillon Samuels and winces from the guilt he feels in his soul. "No Cindy, no girl deserves to be treated like that. No matter what you did, you deserve better, and...I forgive you."

Cindy's lip trembles. "To think, I spent most of last summer dreading the idea that you might find out. That you would come to me and gloat so that my pain would be worse."

"I don't know, I was pretty angry before I left for Arcadia. I might have done a little gloating."

Cindy shakes her head. "No, you might have thought about it, but then you would have felt guilty about that. In the end, you would have been sorry for me and would have done your best to comfort me, just the way you are now..." (Cindy pauses and puts a hand on Dylan's cheek.) "How I wish you were my first. No matter how it turned out between us, I at least would have had a good memory of that special moment."

"I guess we all have a lot of life moments we wish we could do over again..." Dylan says as he wistfully thinks of his blown relationship with Joan.

The pair on the bench go silent, each in deep thought about their lifepaths. As they quietly hold hands, they both realize that through their shared pain and forgiveness, they have become friends. The afternoon progresses, and the parade of cars begins. For a long time they are busy loading donated food into people's cars. Eventually there is a lull, and they resume their coversation. Dylan tells Cindy about the possible scam against Mrs Gonzalez. Through Stevie, Cindy knows the old lady well and promises to mention the matter to her cop father. Perhaps he will be able to interest some of his detective friends in the situation.

"Mrs Gonzalez has been so kind to Stevie during this time, the dear old gal deserves a lot better. And speaking of Stevie, I'm not sure how to put this..."

"Cindy, it you're about to caution me against seducing Stevie, Mrs Gonzalez has already beaten you to the punch. I wouldn't pull a 'Raoul' on her."

"I know you're not that kind of guy, but the problem with Stevie may be out of your control. When I spoke to her, and she mentioned your name, I saw the first spark of life I've seen in Stevie since her mother died. Stevie needs...needs..."

"An anchor?"

"Exactly. If you aren't very careful Dylan, Stevie may thrust that position onto you without your consent. Then if you reject her, it will break her heart."

Dylan sighs and nods. "I want to be Stevie's friend. I want to help her, but I don't want to lead her on. I...understand the heartbreak of losing someone you love because they don't love you back in the same way."

"That sounds like an interesting story."

"And some day, when that pain has faded, I may tell it to you. In the meantime, what do I do about Stevie?"

"I wish I had an answer for you my friend."

X X X X X

6-11-06/Sunday morning.

Dylan Hunter looks about the charming Brentwod Chapel of Peace near the end of Sunday services. His opinion of the congregation is that they are a very nice group of people who are unfortunately spiritually weak. In fact, most of the Chapel's members seem to be agnostic, and they attend this 'church' to hedge their bets. The old pastor, undoubtedly an ex-hippie, preached the message that if you followed the tenents of political correctness, did the occasional good deed and weren't too vile in your personal habits, then when you died God (if he/she/it existed) would be kind to you in the after life (if it existed).

Normally Dylan and his father wouldn't waste their time in such a place, but women can get a man to do many odd things. For months Dr. Hunter has looked forward to returning to the full gospel church he considers home, but on this first Sunday back in L.A. he is standing next to Felicity Brewster as the congregation sings the final hymn (The Whole World In His Hands).

Throughout the service Felicity and John have held hands while casting amorous glances at each other. However, John isn't the only one admiring Felicity. For most of the service many of the men and some of the women have stared at Felicity with open desire. Some of those stares seem more intimate than others, and Dylan wonders why. He also can't help wondering what his Dad is thinking in dating such a woman. Sure he understands Felicity is beautiful and overwhelmingly sexy, but she is completely inappropriate for his conservative, very religious father. Certainly she has zero in common with his Mom...

The thought of his late mother causes feelings of guilt and resentment in Dylan. Guilt because it seems so very long since he last thought of her. Resentment because Dad is dating again. Dylan tries to dismiss this thought as irrational--after all, he had wanted Dad to move on with his life for years. Still, the feeling lingers as well as the additional guilt he feels due to the hand holding his...

Stevie Marx has neen clinging to him all morning long, and her glances at him have contained an element of hero worship. The Othar Gee case, as predicted, wrapped up like clockwork. Felicity's house inspectors gave glowing reports about the condition of Mrs Gonzalez's home, and a detective friend of Cindy's father became interested and went to question the original inspector. That man turned out to be the ultimate weak link and he quickly made a deal to testify against his boss. When Stevie learned all of this had been set in motion by Dylan, it confirmed for her that Dylan was her man of destiny.

After services, John & Felicity and Dylan & Stevie converse as couples...

"Dylan, what did you think of our services?" Felicity asks.

"Uh, it was very...nice. Right Dad?"

Dr. Hunter, completely distracted by Felicity, answers, "Yes...lovely."

Felicity smiles knowingly. "I understand you kids have plans this afternoon?"

Stevie replies, "Yes, Mrs Gonzalez is eager to show us her new retirement community. By the way, she again sends her heartfelt thanks for all you did. It's amazing you were able to sell her home in only two days."

"Well, I can't take all the credit. We're in a housing boom that seems like it will never end, and the moment I listed the house a bidding war began."

"Still, you and Dylan have been godsends for Mrs Gonzalez."

Felicity laughs. "I've never been called that before."

John says, "Felicity, we will have to hurry if we are going to make our reservation."

Felicity nods and adds, "We are going to a charming bistro near where I live for lunch, and then I'm going to show John my condo."

"She says it has a great view."

"And this is our third date." Felicity says, her voice full of inuendo.

"Uh, yes, that's right." Dr. Hunter replies, unaware of that social convention known as the 3rd date rule.

Felicity leads John away by the arm. She smiles for she has always enjoyed a challenge.

X X X X X

Later that afternoon, after a delicious lunch prepared by Mrs Gonzalez, she, Stevie and Dylan travel in his minivan...

"Thank you for the lift, Dylan. I still drive, but I limit myself to short trips around the neighborhood."

"Glad to do it, ma'am. I'm looking forward to seeing this senior paradise of yours."

"As am I. Internet photos only go so far, but I have received wonderful reports from a couple of friends who live at the Elm Lake Retirement Center."

Stevie asks, "Are you okay financially, Mrs Gonzalez?"

"Oh yes dear. Thanks to Miss Brewster, I'm rolling in it. Not only did Felicity raise my original asking price, but she managed to get 15 percent above that in only two days."

"She is quite a woman. I only hope my Dad can handle her." Dylan mutters. He understood the significance of the third date remark.

Mrs Gonzalez responds, "In my day she would have been called a vamp."

Stevie laughs. "You mean like a vampire?"

"No dear, the term referred to a woman who knew how to use her feminine wiles to get what she wanted from men. Although, now that I think about it, I suppose that is a type of vampire."

Stevie frowns, disturbed by a sudden thought. Dylan notices...

"Something wrong, Stevie?"

"I...know I shouldn't repeat gossip..."

"Stevie, my Dad is dating Felicity. Is there something he should know?"

"Well, there are always rumors about a woman as beautiful as Miss Brewster, but there was a definite scandal last fall. She was having an affair with our pastor."

"That old guy from this morning? His wife was there!"

"Oh no, not Pastor Tom. This was Pastor Dave who is a young man and unmarried. The scandal broke about the time I joined. It seems they were caught doing it in the church! Normally, most of the congregation wouldn't care about Pastor Dave's personal life, but since it involved a member of the church, many thought it was unethical--like a doctor dating a patient. Anyway, after the scandal broke, they ended the relationship. The church board was willing to let it go, but Pastor Dave resigned because he thought he had betrayed the church's trust."

Mrs Gonzales comments, "What a juicy scandal. Nothing like that ever happens at my dull old church."

As Stevie and Mrs Gonzalez continue to talk, Dylan wonders what he should do with this information. His Dad hated gossip, but didn't he deserve to know the truth? How would his Dad take the news? If he was getting serious about Felicity, maybe he would resent the interference. It might even cause a rift between father and son...

Not long afterward, they arrive at the Elm Lake Retirement Center, just outside of Pasadena. It is a beautiful, modern facility with many age appropriate activities for its' clientele. As they walk toward the main office, Stevie automatically takes his hand. This is part of a growing pattern of her dependency on Dylan. Every day this week she has relied on Dylan for transportation, yard work, household chores and advice with all decisions. Dylan is always glad to help, even if it wasn't a part of his assignment to be her friend. But, day by day, he feels he is being painted into a corner.

In fact, the only day he had off from helping Stevie this week was Saturday. In the morning he attended Barbara's college graduation. Hi Greyson was there and Barbara was deeply moved by all he had to do to change his plans so he could attend. In the afternoon, Dylan was Barbara's 'plus-one' for the wedding. She sometimes needed support when dealing with the Greyson side of her family. Barbara has four other half brothers, one each from Hi's previous marriages. Sadly, she doesn't get along well with any of them. Still, the wedding and receptions were great successes, and Barbara seemed to have a reasonably good time.

Upon arriving home, Dylan received a phone call from Stevie pleading for his help. Sunday was her first time back to church since her parent's deaths, and she was concerned it would be overwhelming. Dylan agreed to be her escort, and it turned out to be a wise decision. Stevie was mobbed by people offering their condolences, but this only served to remind Stevie of her pain. Soon she was misty-eyed, chin quivering and desperately clutching at Dylan for strength. He quickly played the part of buffer zone, and most of the kind hearted people caught on and kept a respectful distance from the trembling girl.

As they reach the manager's office, Dylan sighs in defeat. This morning only confirmed his role as Stevie's "anchor." Since there was no one else available, he would have to play the part or risk breaking Stevie's fragile spirit. The manager's secretary escorts them into the office...

"Mrs Gonzalez and her friends."

"Thank you Miss Mancusco. Welcome Mrs Gonzalez to Elm Lake. We are so pleased to have you joining us." the manager, a grey-haired woman of sixty, says with a practiced smile and a handshake. "My name is Mary Berkin, and I'll be showing you the apartment and answering any questions you may have."

"Thank you. These two young people are friends who were kind enough to bring me here today...Dylan Hunter and Stevie Marx."

Mrs Berkin politely nods at Dylan, but when she glances at Stevie on her crutches, she freezes and goes pale... "Oh-my-God."

Dylan steps closer for the woman seems like she will faint.

"Is there something wrong?" Stevie asks.

"Forgive me for staring young lady, but you look amazingly like my daughter when she was your age."

"Did you say your name was B-Berkin?"

"That's right. My late husband and I had a girl who ran away when she was a teenager--those damn drugs. We searched for years but never found her."

"Was her name Melanie?"

"How-how did you know?"

"I go by my adopted name of Stevie Marx, but Melanie was my real mother. She named me Bridget."

"My mother's name was Bridget..."

Shakily, Mrs Berkin steps closer to Stevie. Next to each other, the family resemblance is undeniable.

"My granddaughter."

"Grandmother!"

With a cry of joy, the pair embraces and begins to joyously weep. Deeply moved, Mrs Gonzalez also begins to shed tears of joy. Even Dylan is not immune as he becomes misty-eyed. Macho enough to be embarassed by tears, he turns toward the window. Outside, Dylan sees a man of Asian heritage who is finishing a job of tree trimming. It is God. With a brief smile, he turns and walks away, giving the back handed wave as he goes. Dylan interprets this as: You have successfuly completed your first assignment.

THE END. PLEASE REVIEW.