So I've been playing around with the idea of Rick's father and I came up with this. If you recognize anything, it's not mine.

Enjoy!


June 1, 1970

The faint murmur of the audience could be heard backstage. It certainly sounded like a full house, but after all it was the first Tuesday of the first month in the summer season – the opening night to top all opening nights. The wings were abuzz with the rush of stagehands making final adjustments to the sets, actors and actresses running to their places, and of course, the director calling orders to those who for whatever reason could not read his mind. And yet, one actress was absent.

Nineteen year-old Martha Rogers was pacing her dressing room. This was the first major role she had landed…and it was the lead. She was only nineteen and was playing the lead in a Broadway production! She still couldn't believe it was happening.

Her pacing was interrupted when the door opened and a stagehand poked his head in.

"On stage in five Miss Rogers."

"Thank you, Peter. I'll only be a second more. Just need to uh…collect my thoughts." The young actress was so nervous that she hardly even noticed him leave the room.

Well kiddo, she could hear her mother saying, go make me proud. It seemed like only yesterday that she had said goodbye to her parents at the train station, when in reality it had been ten months ago. Her dream had always been to be a star on Broadway, and now it was coming true.

Slowly Martha made her way to the stage, determined to make her mother proud. As she approached her mark on the stage – center stage – a silence fell over the audience. She glanced over to her director, who then gave a cue to the conductor. The overture began to play, and the curtain parted.

Before she knew it the first act was over and she was walking back to her dressing room. Her dresser, Judy, walked beside her, whispering words of encouragement. Since Martha had joined the company the two had become very close. Neither had ever had a sister, so the bond formed almost instantly.

"Really Martha, that was fantastic! Possibly the best performance I've ever seen you give."

"Are you sure? I missed some of my lines and kept tripping over that damn chair!"

"Relax. It was wonderful. The audience couldn't take their eyes off of you."

"Thanks…" Martha concluded with a nervous smile. The pair was just about to reach the dressing room when they stopped at the sight of a man coming out.

And what a man he was. He was tall with a very stately appearance. He carried himself with pride, but not with arrogance. Light brown, almost blond, hair swept over his ears, and much to the ladies' dismay, his eyes were concealed by the shadows. The two leaned around the corner of a beam, only to see him swiftly making his way towards the stage exit. With a shared look of intrigue, they bolted to reach the door handle.

Judy reached it first. She jerked the door opened, her mouth dropping at the sight in front of her.

"Martha…apparently I'm not the only one who loved your performance."

Martha peered around her friend's shoulder and laid her eyes on what must have been five-dozen pink roses. "Is there a card?" The two began hunting through the bouquets, finally stumbling on a cream-colored card with gold trim.

The stage is only lit by your beauty.

ES

"Who is this guy?" Martha snapped.

"I don't know, but you need to change and get your butt back on stage!"

With a flurry of fabric and makeup Martha was ready. She resumed her place on stage, with her friend guarding her dressing room door, just in case.

The second act moved just as quickly as the first. The curtain was closed and the sets were removed. The entire cast lined up for the curtain call, Martha in the back. The velvet curtain was once again pulled up and the actors slowly shifted downstage as they took their final bows. Finally, it was her turn. She gracefully stepped to the front of the stage. A spotlight focused on the girl as she curtsied gracefully to thank the audience. She slowly regained her stance and found that the entire house was on its feet.

Well, all except for one. It was him. Her mystery fan. He was the lone person in sight who was still seated. Of course, his seat was front row, center, and he sat there with a simple smile on his face. Their eyes met, and for a moment they were the only two in the theatre. And all too soon the house lights went up and a crowd blocked their views.

A hand grabbed Martha's arm and began to pull her offstage. She could hear Judy shouting over all the commotion.

"Come on! You have to change."

"But, uh," Martha was struggling to find her voice as she pointed to the once-occupied seat, "he was just there!"


Minutes later a very anxious Martha was exiting the theatre. She opened the door to the alleyway and found him standing before her, leaning against the building as if it was the most natural thing to be doing.

"Well. Martha Rogers." He paused and turned to look at her. "May I say you were positively enchanting this evening."

His British accent caught her off guard. Judging from the roses and the card she was prepared for a sophisticated man, but she had been from a small town where everyone knew everyone else. Until she came to New York she had never met anyone from another state, let alone another country. And the accent was melodic, almost hypnotizing.

She carefully maneuvered herself out of the doorway. "Thank…you? I'm sorry, but who exactly are you?" She couldn't help but find herself lost in his eyes. He had the most beautiful eyes. They were the bluest she had ever seen, and seemed to pull her closer than she already was – and there were only mere inches separating them.

"So sorry." He held out his hand to her. "I'm Edward Samuels." She reached out to shake his hand, but he had taken a firm grasp and lifted it to his lips. His touch burned through her skin. "Not to be forward, but would you grant me the pleasure of joining me for dinner? I'm sure you must have an appetite after such a wonderful performance."

Martha was at a loss for what to do. She spent a good portion of her life chasing boys, she had never had one come after her. This was a new situation. One that she found she liked.

She smiled. Yes, she thought, she would go out with this man. Aesthetically, he was a god, and he seemed to truly admire her. So why not? What could happen?

"Yes." She whispered.

"Fantastic!" He exclaimed clapping his hands together. He quickly took her belongings from her and guided her to a car waiting on the curb. "I know exactly where to take you. You'll absolutely love it!"

He was right. They had eaten at Le Bernardin – perhaps the most upscale restaurant in the city, certainly the fanciest Martha had ever seen. He saw to it that she got everything she could possibly want. The two began to share more about themselves. Martha told Edward about her dream to act, and he told her that he was in town for the summer from England, dealing with personal matters.

The evening ended when he walked her up to her small apartment.

"Thank you, Edward, for a lovely night. And, I'm glad you enjoyed the show. But I have to ask…how did you possible manage to get five dozen roses into my room so quickly?"

A smile played across his face. "Why don't we just say that I know a guy?"

"Seriously?" She rolled her eyes at him. "You know a guy?"

"Yes. I have my resources." The two began to giggle like teenagers.

"Well thank you again. That was very generous of you."

"Nonsense. I told you earlier my dear, you are enchanting." Gently he took her hands in his and lifted them to his face, giving each hand a peck. "I have a feeling I will be seeing much more of you." Without warning he leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss, and turned to walk away, leaving Martha speechless.


Sure enough, he made an appearance at her show the following night, and every night after that. After each show Martha would return to her dressing room to find varying arrangements of flowers, all with accompanying notes.

After about a week he started waiting for her outside the stage door. He would casually offer her a meal, which she always excepted, and those meals resulted in a friendship, which soon blossomed into a romance.

Soon it became rare for one of them to be seen alone. During the day Martha would attend rehearsals, and Edward would attend to his business – whatever it was – but every night, there he was, front row center. Her number one fan. They would leave the theatre together and more often than not, Martha woke up beside him in his suite at the Plaza. They were in love.

But June turned to July, and July lead to August. The summer was nearly over.


Unfortunately, the air conditioning in the theatre had broken sometime in July, and there was very little money around to repair it. The entire cast was now warily pushing through rehearsals, despite the August heat, and Martha soon found it a struggle to keep awake during breaks. Judy was beginning to worry about her friend.

"Are you sure you're alright? I've never seen you this tired before."

"Yea, I don't feel any different. Maybe I should just start getting more sleep."

"Oh yes! Because you've been having so much fun with your British beau!"

Martha rolled her eyes and returned to downing her fifth bottle of water that day.

"I don't know, maybe I should get checked out. I mean, I really haven't been to a doctor at all since I've been here."

"Are you kidding? That's like…a year already! Do you need me to drive you?"

"No, no, no, I can take care of it." Lazily she stood from the theatre chair she had sprawled across. "But right now I need to get back on stage."


The news had shocked her. She was only nineteen years old – she couldn't be having a baby. But it was a baby with Edward – a man who she had come to love with all her heart. A man who loved her back. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she was smiling.

This was a good thing, she told herself. They would be happy together. She would tell him tonight over dinner, after the show of course.

That night he hadn't come to the show. Instead, he sent her flowers…and a note:

Sorry to have missed you this evening.
I'm sure you were spectacular.
Come to my place when you're through.

Eddie

Martha quickly changed and left without even saying goodnight to her friends. She was anxious to meet him.

As she approached the door to the suite she began to pick up her pace. With a smile plastered on her face she knocked on the door. Within seconds the knob turned and the door opened to show Edward staring at her solemnly.

"Eddie?" She questioned, cocking her head. "What on Earth is the matter?"

He reached his arm around her shoulders and ushered her in. "Come in. We need to talk." Martha could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Well darling I have something to talk to you about too." She subconsciously engaged her acting skills, pretending like nothing was wrong. Although something clearly was.

Edward gestured for her to take a seat on the couch. He began to pace back and forth in front of her. She could tell something really was frustrating him. He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a sigh before turning to face her.

"I have to leave."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Leave? What do you mean?"

"I…uh, need to leave New York, go back to England."

"What? Why? Eddie, this doesn't make any sense."

He quickly moved to sit at her side. With shaky hand he reached out and caressed her cheek. "There's something I never told you about me."

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me." Martha reached out and took his hands in hers, placing them on her knees. "I'm a big girl."

"This whole time I've been here, I've been trying to work things out with my family. I'm – engaged."

Martha pulled back. She had begun to shake as well. "You're engaged…" Her voice was distant, almost inaudible.

"Yes. It was…arranged, when I was young, and I've been trying to maneuver my way out of it for months. But my father told me that if I didn't return, that I would be cut off, and I wouldn't be able to support myself, or you." He stood again and moved to lean against the wall opposite the couch. "I can't do this anymore Martha; you would only be worse off."

Martha's anger was beginning to surface. "Why didn't you tell me two months ago? I wouldn't have let myself get attached. I wouldn't have let myself…fall in love with you! I wouldn't have let…this happen!"

He raced back to her and put his hands on her arms. "Exactly! I know that. I love you so much, Martha, and I hate myself for letting it come so far!"

"No Edward," she couldn't even bring herself to call him 'Eddie' right now – a name she had so playfully used before, "you have no idea how far we've come." She backed away from his grasp, staring him right in the eyes as he began to lose his composure. "I'm pregnant Edward, and you know what?" By now she had reached the door, one hand was on the knob - she didn't even look at him. "We don't need you."

She pulled the door open and turned around to see him staring at her. "Goodbye Edward."

That was the last time she saw him.


April 1, 1971

The room was quiet. The only sound Martha could hear was the faint breathing of the baby in the crib beside her bed. Now she was lying with her eyes shut, barely awake, thinking about everything that had happened.

Unfortunately, she was forced to take leave of the stage due to her pregnancy, but the director had generously allowed her to stay as a consultant, with pay, considering the circumstances. However, her lack of work made her bored, and she spent many hours contemplating her situation.

She wrote to her parents to tell them the news – leaving out some details regarding the father – and they offered to come out to help. Martha declined the offer. She was going to do this on her own. She could be a mother and still follow her dream.

Sure, her plan had to change a bit, but she decided that she would teach her son to follow his dreams. He could be whatever he wanted to be. And she was going to make sure he knew that.

Her eyes drifted back towards the sleeping bundle. He was only a few hours old but she loved him already. More than anyone she loved before. She couldn't help but fear that someone was going to jump out at any moment and tell her it was all a joke – that he wasn't really hers. Today was, after all, April Fools' Day. But there he was. He was beautiful. He was hers. Her Richard.

She looked down at the tray in front of her. On it was a sheet of stationary and a pen. There were many times during the past months that she considered writing, but she never had. It just seemed more appropriate to do it today.

With a firm grip Martha picked up the pen and began to write.


I know it's a bit of a cliffhanger, but I wanted to make sure there was some interest in it before I kept going. The next chapter would obviously open with the letter. So what do you think?? Should I keep going?

Thanks for reading!