I have read a complaint that most AR fan fictions concentrate on the father-son half of the family. Methinks perhaps this is because the first (and in the narrowest sense, only) parent that August actually meets in the movie was Louis, despite neither of the two knowing anything about it. Bearing this fact in mind, and the fact that women (who I assume write most of these fictions) find Louis drop dead attractive [*green with envy*], people naturally make father-son fan fictions about Louis and August.

Don't fret, as Lyla would have her share of the limelight in this fan fiction, partly because the story asks for it, and in part as a response to all you who wish Lyla and August have some bonding time together.

Have pity for Louie though; in this fan fiction, he can't even talk.

Whether or not it was the lull after the squall or the eye of a storm, the brief respite after several days of rain was a welcome one. Lyla found rainy days to be a mixed blessing of sorts. Rain has a depressing effect on some people; she being one of them. It only takes a few minutes of rain to remember years of loss.

It did have an upside, though. Rain also kept the family inside; a really bad storm meant Louis would be home. Such an event would mean family bonding as the father and his children looking for things to do when the TV goes out. Looking back to those times, rain didn't seem so bad after all. Those years without her baby at once seemed like nothing but a bad dream.

Every moment they have stranded under the shelter of that apartment meant as much to her as the many happy memories other families had in a span of 20 years. And she had tried to make those times seem as pleasant as possible for her two children, and her love.

Lyla often joked that marrying Louis meant adopting another teenager, something that her husband did nothing but reaffirm. Lou made it painfully obvious that he was once the baby of the family as he and their adolescent Evan horseplay around the house, arguing about various trivial things in a vain effort to amuse themselves.

If she did finish her chores for the day, she may actually join them (if she hasn't already been dragged in). Taking care of a little girl didn't change anything either, as daddy's idea of taking care of a baby girl meant playing with her.

Rain seemed to have no ill effect on Evan whatsoever; in fact one of the ways he spends his time was to compose randomly. The music he composes during rainstorms was not really the type people would associate with rain; they were upbeat, sentimental, and lack the melancholy and ennui that came with a storm. Where normal people feel depression, he feels happiness and contentment.

The night meant a romantic candlelit dinner for the parents, while Evan played yet another love song on the upright piano. As soon as the children were asleep, a night of passion was inevitable for the proud parents.

Those were different times. Her children have grown up and moved on. Her daughter now works as a writer in Chicago. Her son lives just north of them, along with his wife and son. Her granddaughter has recently moved in. Louis has had a stroke, robbing him of his ability to speak.

The lull after the rainstorm was a reality check. Evan said he'd call back. Six hours was long enough.

Lyla went over to the phone. A reluctant Louis watched from his wheelchair at the corner, expecting a heavy argument. He quickly grabbed his slate and rolled towards his Lyla from across the room.

He grabbed her hand as she was about to get the phone. She looked at him disapprovingly, but turned and read the message on the slate.

"I just need to listen." She read. Louis would've taken matters into his own hands had he been able to talk. Patience was the only benefit the old man got from the stroke. She gave her husband back the slate, and reassured him that all will be well.

The phone rings, just as she was about to call. It was Evan.

"Mom. I'm sorry I couldn't call earlier. I was just so busy with work and Arthur's not cutting me any slack today. Can I at least speak to Rachel? How is she? How's dad?"

"You're father's therapy isn't making much progress for now. As for Rachel, I doubt that she'd want to talk for awhile."

"Figures." Evan said with an obnoxious grunt. "Yet another problem to add to my list."

"I just need to talk. Can't you spare a few moments?"

"That's just it mom. I can't. I'm having a hard time with the score today; it's almost as if I can't hear the music anymore."

Lyla paused. She looked at Louis, who, while overhearing the conversation, wrote something on his slate.

"He's his father's son, all right." It read. Louis nodded. Both he and Lyla gave up on music at one point in their lives, a tendency that happened at times of emotional distress. It appears as though this trait was hereditary to the Connellys and Novaĉeks, and in Evan's case, it was completely autonomous.

"I am having the worst possible weekend. I haven't been able to write anything, and the producer's ultimatum was in 3 months. If you ask me, mom, Rachel isn't helping much."

"You watch your tongue Evan." Lyla shouted; her husband was taken aback.

"It's about Rachel, is it mom?"

"You know very well it is."

"What did she tell you?"

"Something that I never expected to hear from YOU."

"Mother, you've got to understand. She's a teenager; she isn't supposed to be having unprotected sex let alone carrying a child. It's just not right. She wouldn't even tell me who the father is."

"I understand you're upset, dear. But what you told her—you're starting to sound more and more like my father! I spent 11 years looking for the child my father took from me, and now that same child wants to repeat the same thing."

"But mom, you were what? Twenty-one? You had your choice, mom. It was your responsibility; you had all the right to tell him off. But Rachel, she was just so young, and, we don't even know who the father is."

"Tell me, Evan. How is this any different from your father and me?"

Evan was taken aback. He remained silent, as he could hear his mother sob.

"Evan, how could you?"

"I just don't want her to get hurt."

"That doesn't change anything. The worse thing your grandfather did was done with the best of intentions. He didn't want me to throw away my life, Evan. You were standing in the way. He said you would hurt me. Of all people, I was shocked that you'd be just like him."

"Mom, I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to become the man your grandfather was, Evan."

"It doesn't have to be the way Grandpa Thomas had it. This is different."

"How is it different?"

"I'm not just thinking about *my* baby."

Okay, I admit, it isn't much, and scene-stealing Lou is still there. Be merciful; I don't exactly think with a female register here, and so far this is pretty much what I can come up with. I figured that the conversation would lead to something like this based on Lyla's conversation with her father in the movie. While it does require that August be out of character, it did keep Lyla in character.

Come to think of it, the movie's premise kinda opened up the possibility of this fan fiction in the first place. Come on, not only did they not use birth control; Louis didn't even get her number!