Author's Note: So, when I get stuck on For Their Flowers, this story gets worked on. Some of you may know Mary Mathews and Lee Curtis and their star-crossed lovers act from my other stories, and for me, their relationship has been almost as fun for me to write as the one between Mary's parents. It's a second gen story, so there are a lot of second gen characters, but our boys are as important as ever to this story as they are in one where they're the focus, even if this is a bit self-indulgent! But I'm ready to give it a shot.

Just so you know: Mary is the daughter of Two-Bit, and Lee is the son of Darry, and they are both their oldest. Also, SE Hinton owns The Outsiders. I own nothing you recognize.

Happy reading :)

XXXXX

I kissed Mary Mathews for the first time on Easter Sunday of 1989. And in the Sunday school room of all places, too. The story has become just another one among a multitude of others that this family shares. We all laugh about it these days because we were kids and Dad and Uncle Two-Bit had caught us in the act right after the service that morning, and in retrospect, I guess it's kinda funny. The story, at least. But what's not that funny and is really much more serious is that I haven't been able to get over Mary ever since.

And that's a problem.

Because I'm getting married.

But not to her.

xXx

Oh, and I'm Lee, by the way. Lee Curtis.

xXx

Okay, so you might think that the situation I've gotten myself into is stupid and pretty easily solved, in which case, you are dead wrong. You are so fucking wrong, I cannot even begin to express to you how wrong you are. You are so wrong, two-plus-two equaling five looks right. And that's the damn truth. Look, I got into this on accident because contrary to popular belief, I'm kinda awkward – around girls especially – and I didn't even mean to ask Melissa to marry me. I'm not joking – this whole wedding is an accident. When I told my sisters, they thought it was a total scream. They started laughing like the pair of hyenas they are.

"You have to be shitting us!" Joan, the baby, squealed. "Really, Lee! Really!"

"How could you have fucked the whole thing up that badly? If this is what happens when you try to suggest to a girl that you get a dog, I'd like to see what happens when you actually try to propose," Martha laughed.

My little sisters suck.

But Martha had a fair point. On Valentine's Day, we were out at a nice restaurant, and all I was gonna do was suggest that maybe we get a dog, and somehow she ends up with the idea that I'm trying to ask her to marry me, and the entire wait staff did, too, and it was all so embarrassing and awkward for me that I just decided to go with it. I mean, I got some pretty good sex out of the deal when we got home that night, but instead of getting the Retriever I'd wanted, I'd landed myself with a fiancé.

And look, Melissa is a nice girl. We've been dating for a year-ish, and things have been moving pretty fast, probably because I've had my mother breathing down my neck. Which I wouldn't understand if it weren't for her whole southern debutante thing, because she and Dad had to rush into marriage because she'd gotten pregnant with me. Now, my parents? They love each other. Dad's kinda a grump and Mom's pretty sunshiny, but they just work together. Their romance was a whirlwind, and it's worked for them for over twenty-five years. Mary's parents had it pretty different. I think she and I have pretty differing views of love because of that.

Mary's family lives in New York, hundreds of miles away from my hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma. I've seen her every summer every year of my life, sometimes more than that. And ever since that Easter of '89, every summer was like carrying on with a kind of relationship that we tried to keep a secret. I think we did a pretty good job of keeping it low-key because I think everyone figured that we'd gotten over each other when we were still pretty young. Yeah, not the case. Hell, I've even told her I love her.

"Like a cousin, you mean," she'd tried to clarify.

"No, like a girl who I met and fell in love with."

We were in high school. I've never been the poet laureate, kissass kinda guy. I played football and did pretty good in school most of the time and had a different date to every homecoming dance and prom I attended. My sisters sometimes thought I was some sort of cad, but I just didn't like being tied down, especially since the one girl I'd ever liked enough to want to be tied down to lived so far away. And calling her would just look suspicious.

When she was down here, or the few times the family went to New York, we'd always sneak out, or have two minute conversations in closets that didn't have to do with any of the rest of the family, just us. And she was nothing like the girls down here, the ones I'd gone to school with all my life. She wasn't one of those girls who loved horses more than people, or some sort of debutante like my mother.

She was just Mary, with her curly dark hair and doe eyes and absolute fearlessness.

xXx

I heard the news devastated her.

xXx

But then again, Annette Randle is a notorious gossip.

xXx

Vinny and Tommy Randle are five years younger than I am, but by this point, it really doesn't matter. None of us is exactly kids anymore, are we? I already feel like an old man some days. But Vinny and Tommy are fun, and being around those two knuckleheads makes me feel pretty good, even if I can remember when they were born.

It was the end of April. Storm season would soon be upon us. I'd been doing some work for Dad. I'd been engaged for two months. Melissa wanted to get married in October. Mary's birthday was in October, and I'd have to be sure we avoided that date like the plague. My mother had tasked me with making a delivery to Aunt Evie. The four moms have some strange little network set up between themselves with a connection that runs almost as deep as it does with Dad and his crew. Almost.

Vinny was sitting on the porch railing, not wearing a shirt, chewing on a toothpick and toying with something. As I came up the front walk, I asked him, "Are those Legos?"

Vinny shot me a grin. "Sure are. Found an unopened set up in the attic this morning. It's s'posed to be a little house, but everyone knows followin' the directions ain't any fun. Lookin' for Ma?" I nodded. "She's on the phone with Aunt Bee. What ya think your mom sent over today?"

I looked down at the dainty little picnic basket in my hands. It was a white-painted wicker with little fake blue flowers woven within it. I felt like a pansy carrying it. A guy my size shouldn't be carrying around little white picnic baskets. But Vinny knows as well as I do that our mothers have no problem with humiliating their sons, and that's something all of them got.

"Social call?" I asked, referring to Aunt Evie and Aunt Bee's conversation. I could hear Evie's voice carrying through the open windows. Bee is Mary's mom.

"Dunno," Vinny shrugged. "Maybe. Bee's the one called Ma. Maybe it's more gossip about you," he said slyly, the dog. "Say, who's in charge of plannin' your bachelor party?"

Vincent and Thomas may be named after the saints, but they're anything but.

"Knowing you and your dumbass brother? Neither of ya, so don't try." He flipped me the bird, and I barked a short laugh and waltzed inside, where Aunt Evie was sitting at the kitchen table, staring out the window and twirling the phone cord around her finger. I felt a bit awkward as I hovered in the doorway, waiting for her to notice me.

"…oh, shut. Up! You have to be making this up! Oh, good God. This girl really came into your house and said that? To your face? Oh, god, what did Two-Bit do? You're kidding. Well you best tell Lisa to stay the hell away from that girl, and goodness, Bridget, I've got half a mind to fly out there and give this chick a piece of my mind! Please don't tell me you took her seriously. Stuck-up bitches like her are the absolute worst. You would know, you were one." Evie cackled, and I could hear Uncle Two-Bit's wife doing the same on the other end of the line, hundreds of miles away. I came a little further into the kitchen, finally catching Evie's eye. She grinned when she saw me. "Alright," she said, coming down from her laughter. "Alright, talk soon. Buh-bye. Bye." She hung up and turned her attention to me. "I see you've got a delivery for me."

I grinned and held out the basket. "For you from Mom."

Evie walked over and gently took the little picnic basket out of my hands. She would surely appreciate it more than I did. She took a peek inside and instantly started giggling, then snapped it shut again. "Kid, your mother's a hoot and a half."

I raised my eyebrows. "Guess so, but nobody's lettin' me in on the joke."

Aunt Evie laughed again. You could hear Evie's laugh from a mile off. "Honey, ya don't wanna know. Trust me." I blushed. "That's what I thought."

I mean, I'd learned a few of the things that they'd exchanged over the years. Well-loved recipes; old and new photographs from gatherings and vacations; scrapbook-worthy mementos. I guess that was an older lady thing to do. Now that I think about it, though, I think they'd all been collecting and scraping together and turning all sorts of little things into keepsakes to tuck into giant books and binders. We were a well-documented family, that's for sure.

"So I just got off the phone with Aunt Bee," Evie continued, already prattling around the kitchen, probably getting dinner ready. "She and Two-Bit are just so excited for you! Oh, we all are, Lee." She shot me her winningest smile. "First one of our babies to get married," she sang. "I know your mother is just over the moon."

Oh, she certainly was.

I smiled back at Evie. Seems everyone had been so caught up in their own happiness about it, about my engagement, that nobody had bothered to ask me what I thought about the whole thing, about how I was feeling about getting married. Well, except Martha and Joan. I could tell them anything. "She sure is," I drawled. "She have anything else good?"

"Well, she told me just the funniest story about some friend of Lisa's, some little stuck-up snob. You need to let her tell it, though. It's funny and terrible at the same time." Evie laughed again just at the thought of it.

"And Dallas? He's good?" Dallas Mathews was a great guy. He was the closest guy in age to me of the twelve of us, and a helluva ball player. Funny as all get-out, and not easy to shut up. But he had his own pockets of sadness. As we all do.

"Doing so much better than he was last year. Much healthier." He also had diabetes and had an accident down here last year. Could've died. I didn't like thinking about it because I'd been in town, as usual, and should have been looking out for him.

"And, uh, Mary?" I could've sworn that anyone who heard me say her name would know instantly how bad I had it for her. I struggled to say it because of how much…how much…because of how much I wanted it to be her and because of how confused I was as to why it wasn't.

That's the worst part of all of this – the confusion. I've gotten myself all messed up and my feelings and thoughts are always muddled. Nearly all the time now. I think I've done a pretty good job of hiding it, though; from Melissa and to everyone who showed up to our engagement party and to the rest of the family. I've hidden it from my buddies, the ones from work and the ones from high school and the ones from my football days. I do feel guilty about it, I do, but I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place here, and I'm the only one that knows it. And October just keeps getting closer and closer…

"Fine," Evie said simply. "She's enjoying D.C., but other than that, it seems her life has been pretty uneventful lately. Wish I could say the same!"

I chuffed softly and shook my head. That's Evelyn Randle for ya.

xXx

"Alright, boys – pack it up."

I like working for Dad. We make a good team, I think, and even though I'm still just working my way up the ladder, I'd like to put this business degree of mine to use someday and really help him out with more than grunt work. But that's the thing: I don't mind the grunt work. I mean, sometimes I do, but I like getting to work outside, get some fresh air. Some of the other guys think this sort of attitude is way too healthy, but, ya know, what-the-fuck-ever. I was the one who got the last laugh when I made foreman. And not just because I'm the boss's kid, neither.

I was headed towards my truck, getting ready to head home, but when I got there found Annie and Fran leaning up against it. Fran is my real cousin, Uncle Sodapop's only daughter since his wife ran off, and Annie is like a cousin: similar in relationship without the biological relation. I smiled at both of them, even though they both looked pretty pissed, with their arms crossed over their chests and scowls on their faces. They were always so in-synch.

"Hey, guys."

"Well, howdy, Lee," Annie snapped, always a domineering conversational force.

"Alright, you two," I sighed as I put my tools in the truck bed. "What's up?"

At first, they didn't say anything. I stood there in the late summer sunlight - August still bein' hot as hell, mind you – and watched and waited for the first to pop. It was a classic stare-down, just like the good ol' days. If family's good for anything, they're good for fightin'. I guess the quiet got to be too much eventually, because Fran exploded first.

"How could you do it?" She burst. "You've done some damn stupid things in your life, Lee Curtis, but this has got to take the cake! And Martha and Joan told us the truth about this whole sham of an engagement, so the fact that you're goin' through with it is just plain disgusting, if you ask me."

"Well, I didn't," I said shortly. "You wouldn't get it, either of you."

"You broke her heart," Annie spat, referring to – who else? – Mary. "She told us everything, too, about the two of you. I can't believe you! First you get yourself into this ridiculous situation with a woman you aren't even really sure you love, and now you're too big a coward to back out!"

"You wouldn't get it," I snapped. "You shoulda seen my mom when she found out. She was…god, she was so happy."

"She'd be happier if you were being honest," Fran said coolly. "And we know how you hid it from Mary, too. Went to great lengths to do so. What the fuck is your problem, Lee?"

"I don't know, but y'all better mind your own goddamn business!" I shouted angrily, drawing a few stares. I sighed and waved them off, then turned back to these two. "If it makes it any better," I seethed, "I'm just as confused as you are."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Annie asked.

"Means that goddammit, I don't know what the hell my problem is. Yeah, I told Mom not to tell, not just then. She thought I wanted to make it a big ol' surprise! Well, guess the fuck what? It's August now, and y'all expect me to not invite Bee and Two-Bit?"

"We expect you to be honest, Lee," Fran said. "And you're not. You're a big fuckin' liar, and now you gotta ask yourself if you're any more in love with Melissa now than you were back in February."

"Enough with this honesty crap. Lee, do you love Mary?"

"Fran - !"

"Do you?"

A lump instantly started growing in my throat. I tried to clear it, but it was just stuck there. Dammit, I couldn't break down and just start crying. They really didn't know how happy it made Mom when she found out. Nobody but the five of us knew that it was all an accident, but Melissa called damn near everybody she knew, and didn't give me a chance to back out. I guess somewhere along the way, I just figured that it could be a lot worse, ya know? And it is. It totally is.

"You have no idea how stupid I feel," I mumbled.

"We have an idea," Annie said dryly. "Now answer the question."

"Yes," I said without hesitating.

"Like, love-love her."

"Yes." Fran and Annie glanced at each other, communicating something I couldn't read. I felt anxious, like I was losing control. "Guys?"

Fran turned back to me with a sad smile on her face. "You really fucked up, didn't ya, pal?"

xXx

Oh, yeah. I really did.

xXx

In case you're somehow wondering, I'm still engaged. To Melissa, I mean. Not Mary. The closer I get to my wedding, the worse I'm getting at hiding my confusion over this from certain people. My mother's been too busy planning to really notice and to be anything but happy, but my ever-perceptive father noticed first. He knows me too well. He and I, we're a lot alike. That's usually a good thing. My love of football comes from him, and more than that, my desire to be as good and as honest a man as he is. I hope to someday be that honest, at least with myself.

"There's something up with you," he said on the way home from a poker game with Uncle Steve, Uncle Soda, and Vinny and Tommy. We get together sometimes. Us kids have finally been invited to the big kid table!

I glanced briefly at Dad. He was wearing one of his construction company's ball caps over his full head of gradually greying hair. Dad apparently looked a lot like his father – my grandfather, the one I'd never known, though Uncle Pony tells me I can see him in my father and know him in their brother – and I apparently look something like the old man. I guess I can sometimes see it. Even though his voice is somewhat serious, he's got this content look on his face; he's apparently relaxed a lot more, like the older he gets the more chill he becomes. I guess he passed all of his high-strung genes off to Martha.

"Like what?" I asked casually.

"I dunno," he mused, "but it's somethin'. Does it have to do with the wedding? Melissa?" I instantly tensed up a bit and let out a slow, cool breath. That was enough for Dad. "Huh. I'll be. What's up? And don't go tryin' to hide anything from me. It's too late for that."

"You sure?" I tried with a weak laugh.

"Yep. It's been too late since the day you were born."

I pulled up in front of the house, my old childhood home. I live only a few minutes away, and I sometimes wonder if I'll ever get out of Tulsa. I threw my truck in park, but Dad didn't make a move to get out. I knew Mom was probably waiting up for him inside, gearing to talk his ear off. (Mom was a bit chatty, to put it nicely.) Come to think of it, he probably knew that, too, which might have influenced him staying a few extra minutes, to get just a few more minutes of male companionship. Dad was sorta old-fashioned in that way.

"You really wanna know?" I asked, and Dad nodded, spreading his hands out as if to say he was all ready to listen. "It's kinda…well, it's kinda touchy-feely, and I know you ain't touchy-feely."

"Trust me, kid, after your sisters, I'm well prepared for just about anything you could throw at me."

"Yeah," I laughed, "but this could really change things."

"Just tell me what it is, Lee, and then we'll figure it in."

Growing up, I think Dad worked pretty hard to make sure he and I had a good relationship, and not just because I was his oldest and only son, but because of what he and Grandpa Curtis had, even though it was such a short time in the grand scheme of things. But I think there's an important difference between him and me, and maybe it was a generational thing, but while I could go to him for anything, I couldn't always go to him with everything. Because sometimes, I could swear my dad was made of stone. But this time felt different because this time had to be different. I glanced at the house again, the realization hitting me that if my mother knew this, she'd never recover. I sighed and gripped the steering wheel even tighter and looked over earnestly at the old man.

"Dad? It's not about Melissa. It's about Mary."

XXXXX

AN: Thank you for reading! Updates on this story might be a bit more sporadic as I work on FTF, but it's also much shorter, so we'll see!