A/n: This story really came to me on a whim. It's based on the movie "Definitely, Maybe," so if you've seen it, you know pretty much how the plotline will go, though there are a few changes. Just so you know, I can't stand Mark/Maureen, but it's going to be important to this fic, so I'm branching out! The pairings for this fic will be (probably in this order): Mark/Maureen, Maureen/Joanne, Maureen/OC. So! What are you waiting for? If you review, I will continue :)
(Oh, and yesterday was my birthday. Reviews make good presents. ;)
"Mommy, have you ever been in love?"
Maureen turned around at the sound of her eight-year-old daughter's voice, laughing at her question. The little girl looked at her mother expectantly, hands on her hips, a small eyebrow arched.
"Well?"
Maureen laughed again, scooping her daughter up in her arms. "Of course, Jules. What makes you ask that?"
Julia Johnson shrugged, flipping her long, chestnut brown hair over her shoulder. "Billy Martin says he's in love with me."
Maureen raised an eyebrow. "Billy Martin, the boy who sits next to you, and stole your crayons last week?"
Julia nodded. "He asked me to marry him."
Maureen snorted, looking into her daughter's bright blue eyes. "And what did you say?"
Julia smiled. "I told him that I never want to get married, just like my mommy!" She looked proudly at Maureen, who frowned.
"Jules, you don't--"
"Mommy, I said--"
"Julia," Maureen said sternly, and the little girl's head snapped up. "Just because I don't want to get married doesn't mean you can't. Just...when you're older. Not eight. And domestic partnerships are just as good, you get the same benefits--"
"Mommy, have you ever been in love?" Julia asked, her eyes bright and wide. "I want to be in love!"
Maureen sighed warily. "Trust me, sweetie. You don't. Love is...trouble. Now go wash your hands, dinner's almost ready."
Julia nodded, her question still unanswered as she ran to the bathroom. Maureen stood in the kitchen, stirring the pasta rhythmically. She thought about her life, and all the events that had led up to Julia's arrival. Her daughter was, without doubt, the most important thing to happen to her, as children usually were.
Maureen had never thought herself to be the mothering type, but as soon as she'd held her newborn baby in her arms for the first time, staring into those innocent eyes, she'd fallen in love.
The good kind; the kind that was unconditional.
"Okay, Mommy. Ready." Julia sat down at the table, and Maureen set a plate of pasta in front of her, carrying her own plate to the table. "So, did you learn anything interesting in school today, sweetheart?"
Julia went to the Manhattan School, a public school in Midtown Manhattan. "Yes, we learned about penises and vaginas."
Maureen nearly choked on her bite of pasta. Coughing, she took a long gulp of water, letting out a breath when the choking finally ceased. "Mommy, are you okay?"
Maureen nodded, dizzily. "Y--yeah, Jules. Now, what did you say you learned about? Doesn't the school send something, like a letter or something, home to the parents? So we know when that sort of thing is being taught?"
Her daughter shrugged. "I didn't get a letter."
Maureen bit her lip. Was Julia old enough to learn about the birds and the bees? After all, she was already eight, and at her age, Maureen had already kissed a boy. It's probably best we talk about this together, Maureen thought. After all, time flies! Soon, she'll be having sex!
Maureen cringed at the thought. "Hey, Mommy?" The little girl poked Maureen with her fork. "How was I made?"
Maureen sighed. "Sweetie, we've talked about this. I wanted a baby, and Uncle Mark helped me with that. We went to the hospital and I got his seeds put into me, and they made friends with my egg, and you were born!"
Julia looked at her doubtfully. "How was I really made?"
"I just told you!"
"But...Danny Fletcher said that he has a Mommy and a Daddy. Why don't I have a Daddy?"
Maureen sighed. She'd always avoided talking to her eight-year-old about this, because of the complications it would bring up. Maureen was a lesbian; Julia hardly knew what that meant. Maureen never dated-- it was always too hard to find someone she liked, and who would love Julia, too. However, her daughter was getting older.
These questions would inevitably come up throughout her childhood, and Maureen knew she'd have to be prepared to answer them. "Jules?" She asked as Julia finished the last of her pasta.
"Yeah?"
"How would you like to hear a little story about me?" Julia's eyes lit up, and Maureen couldn't help but smile. "Will you tell me who my daddy is?"
Maureen sighed. "Sweetie, I already told you--"
Julia sighed, too, as she always mimicked Maureen's actions. "Mommy, don't you know that you have to have a penis and vagina? You need a penis, Mommy!"
Maureen shook her head at the girl, putting her head in her hands. "Go get ready for bed, and then I'll tell you the story, okay?"
Julia grinned, hurrying to her room to get ready for bed.
Fifteen minutes later, Maureen walked into the room, sitting down on the fluffy, blue bed. "You look nice and cozy," she remarked to her daughter, who was in her favorite pajamas, which had a picture of a cow jumping over the moon on the front.
Julia nodded, leaning back on the pillows, eager to hear the story. "So, what is this story going to be about?"
Maureen thought for a moment. "Remember when you asked me if I've ever been in love before?"
Julia nodded.
"Well, I have. I've been in love three times in my life, with three different people."
"And one of them is my Daddy!" Julia said, and Maureen got the feeling that her daughter meant "Daddy" as more than just the sperm to Maureen's egg.
Maureen nodded, resigned. "Yes. One of them is your Daddy, or so you could say."
"Well, which one?"
"That's the catch," Maureen said. "I'm going to tell you the story of my life, from when I met my first love, to when I broke things off with my last, and had you." She poked Julia on the nose, and the girl giggled.
"Okay."
"And I'll change the names, to protect the innocent," Maureen added, knowing that 'Uncle Mark' would show up quite a bit in this story.
"Okay!" Julia was getting excited. "Make up good names, okay, Mommy?" Maureen nodded.
"So," she began. "Once upon a time, there lived a young, naive, twenty-one-year-old woman named Maureen Johnson."
Julia gasped. "You! That's you!"
Maureen laughed and nodded. "And she didn't know much about the world. She had just come to New York City, from her stifling home in Long Island, to make it big in showbiz. Our story begins on a muggy, July morning. Maureen headed to an audition in the gritty East Village of Manhattan, when she was almost knocked over by someone on a bike..."
