Link rose from the bed with barely enough time to dress before he had to leave for the theater. Tracy was asleep, her hair going every which way and her fingers wiggling like they did when she was having a good dream. He kissed her forehead, gently so not to wake her, and left for work.

Ever since that Valentine's Day six years ago, he and Tracy had been inseparable. Their relationship greatly improved after Penny and Seaweed sat both of them down after Tracy was released from the hospital and made them be totally honest with one another. He explained to Tracy that he didn't trust himself to go further with her and she told him that was why she thought he didn't find her attractive anymore. It killed him to know that he was why she had practically starved herself to death. She didn't blame him; she knew that it was simply a misunderstanding but he still blamed himself.

He caught the uptown bus and hopped out at Times Square, walking the last two blocks to the stage door. He went in, where the stage manager, Mr. Pinscher, was waiting for him.

"Mr. Larkin, you're late," the old man informed him.

"Sorry, I… uh… got caught up at home," he said, blushing the moment the words left his mouth.

"Uh huh. How long until the wedding?" Pinscher asked with a chuckle.

"Two weeks."

"You're in the home stretch, son."

"Don't I know it."

Link walked down the hall but stopped as he heard Pinscher call after him, "There's a colored man waiting for you in your dressing room, Mr. Stubbs, I believe he said."

Link nodded thank you and went down the rickety stair to his small dressing room. Even though he was the male lead of this show, his dressing room was smaller than his bathroom at home. Seaweed sat on the counter in front of the mirror, looking at the pancake makeup strewn about.

"Man, I still don't know how you can bring yourself to wear this stuff," Seaweed said jokingly.

"No choice. Gotta wear it so the balcony can see my face." Link closed the door and sat in his chair to begin his make up. "And what are you talking about? You wear it too, just less of it in your show." Seaweed blushed. "What's up? You only come here if Penny's mad at you and you want Tracy to smooth things over for you."

"I don't think that Tracy can smooth this over." Seaweed's broad smile fell and he suddenly had a very worried look on his face. "Penny wants a divorce."

Link stared at his best friend. "What? Why?" He could think of nothing else to say. Sure, Seaweed and Penny fought a lot but they always worked things out in the end.

"She found out about Amber."

"Jesus, Seaweed…" Link ran his hands through his hair, not knowing what to say. "How did she find out?"

"Amber wrote her a letter and told her her version of what happened. I couldn't even try to deny it because the bitch actually described my birthmark."

"You don't have a birthmark," Link stated, picking up his puff and powdering the greasy paste dry.

"Not where you'd be looking."

"Oh…oh!" Link laughed at his stupidity.

"Yeah, and the fact that she could was proof enough for Penny. She's really pissed. I called your place about an hour ago to warn Tracy that Penny would probably be coming over but there was no answer."

"Um…yeah…she was…indisposed." Even through all the make up, Seaweed could see the bright red that was flooding Link's cheeks. He smirked at his friend's shyness, secretly envying how easy his relationship with Tracy was. "What about Evie? What's going to happen with her?"

"I don't know, man. Penny took her with her when she left this afternoon but she's my daughter, too."

"So the standard flowers and candy definitely aren't going to help here."

"No. Definitely not."

"You have to tell her your side of the story, Weed. She needs to know."

Seaweed stared at his shoes for a minute before saying, "And what if she doesn't believe me?"

"Then you did what you could. The only thing after that is groveling." The two laughed grimly while across town, Tracy was woken by the sound of banging on her front door. Throwing on her robe, she went to answer it.

Penny stood at her door, hair hanging limp around her shoulders. In one hand, she held a suitcase and in the other, the hand of her four year old daughter, Evie. "He cheated on me, Trace." Penny stated it matter-of-factly. "He slept with Amber." Tears began to fall down her cheeks and Penny allowed her self to drop both the suitcase and her daughter's hand and fall into the arms of her best friend.

"Come on in, Evie," Tracy said as she deposited the now sobbing Penny on the couch and went to retrieve the suitcase from the landing. Evie walked in timidly. She was definitely her mother's daughter. She was a shy little girl with Penny's big blue eyes and Seaweed's sweet smile. Her skin was a soft caramel and her straight, jet black hair was in pigtails. She walked on pins and needles to her mother and gently sat next to her, putting her little arms around her, trying to comfort her. "What happened, Penny?"

Penny tried to speak but her sobbing would not allow it to happen. After nearly an hour, she reached into her coat pocket and produced a folded pink envelope, offering it to Tracy. "Read it, it explains everything."

Tracy unfolded it and removed a sickly sweet piece of pink, floral, scented stationary. She knew who it was from immediately. Only one person would own, let alone use, such paper.

Dear Penny Stubbs,

I assume that you are that same little tramp that helped ruin my mother's show and my career by kissing that Negro boy, who is now your husband, on live television and encouraged that whore Tracy Turnblad in doing what she could to ruin us and steal my boyfriend. I am writing to inform you that four and half years ago, I had an affair with your husband. We ran into each other at an nightclub after his show opened on Broadway and returned to my apartment in less than an hour. I must say, you are incredibly lucky in your choice of husband…except for his color, that is. He was a most attentive lover and pleasured me for no less than two hours. Penny, I don't know if you know this, but he has the most adorable birthmark on the inside of his right thigh, shaped like Michigan.

Toodle-oo!

Amber Van Tussle

Tracy couldn't believe that this letter was real but here it was, in her hand, glowing Pepto-Bismol paper. "Penny, you can't really believe this trash."

"How can I not? Tracy, she knows what his birthmark looks like." Penny took Evie into her lap and held her, trying to calm herself. "And it was when I was pregnant. We had just gotten married, Trace. If he did it then, he might still be doing it."

Tracy dropped the letter to the floor and sat on the coffee table in front of Penny. "I don't believe that. Seaweed loves you and Evie too much to do that even once."

"But Tracy, she knew…"

"She knew, but I know. Someone probably told her that overheard us talking." Penny stared out the window across the room. "Penny, I promise you, I don't think that this is true."

"Really?"

"Really." Tracy looked at Evie, falling asleep in her mother's arms. "Why don't I get dressed and change the sheets and you can put Evie in the bedroom."

"Are you sure? We can take the couch."

"No, I insist. Besides, Link and I are used to the couch." Tracy put her jeans and shirt back on and changed the sheets for her friend. She glanced out the window, down to the street and saw Link and Seaweed walking towards the building. She rushed back out into the living room. Evie was now completely asleep and Penny was gently rocking her. "You can lay her down if you want, she'll be more comfortable."

Penny nodded and carried her little girl into the next room. Tracy ran to the door to open it before Penny heard the sound of Link's keys. The two men were just reaching the landing when she saw them and the look on her face was enough to kill both of them.

"Seaweed J. Stubbs, you better have an explanation. Your wife has been here the past three hours crying her eyes out." Tracy spoke in a hushed but severe tone that they had never heard from her before.

"Tracy, he can explain," Link said, trying to calm her.

"You knew about this? And you didn't say anything? You kept this secret for him for nearly five years?" She stepped towards them and they instinctively stepped back.

"Yes. No. Yes. I mean…" Link couldn't think of how to answer such a loaded question.

"Tracy, is she still here?" Seaweed asked.

"Yes, she's putting your daughter to bed." Tracy turned with a huff back into the apartment. Link and Seaweed followed her in, shutting the door behind them.

"Hey, Tracy," Penny said, leaving the bedroom, "if it okay if Evie sleeps with your teddy bear? We forgot hers—" She stopped suddenly at the sight of Seaweed by the door. "Get out."

"Penny, I can explain—"

"Explain what? Explain how when I was on bed rest with your daughter using me as a punching bag you were out cavorting with every slut in Manhattan?!" Penny was seething. She hadn't even been this mad when her mother tried to sabotage her wedding. Penny collapsed back on to the couch.

"Penny, please, I'm begging you. Please just listen to me." Seaweed got onto his knees in front of her.

Penny looked at her watch. "You've got five minutes."

And with a deep breath, Seaweed began to tell her his side of the story.