Warning: Extreme language

Chapter 3

As soon as the group therapy session was over, Bri and Lexi spent a few minutes meandering about, talking to various members of the support group as they broke up the circle of chairs and returned them to their original positions throughout the house. After the others had left, and Beverly had walked into her office to prepare to meet the victim at Rampart, Bri approached her friend, lowering her voice.

"Lexi, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Lexi, whose mind had been wandering all morning, lifted her eyebrows when she heard her name. "Um, did you say something?"

"Yea," Bri acknowledged, concerned about Lexi's obvious lack of focus and somber mood. "Are you okay?"

Lexi looked down for a moment, reaching up to twist a lock of hair around her index finger. "Um, yea, of course… why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I know you, Lex," the other woman responded, wrapping an arm around her friend's shoulders. "C'mon… Let's go out back and talk… I have some news to share with you."

Inside her office, Beverly watched through her window as the two young women walked across the back lawn, taking seats in the large wooden garden swing. She could tell by Lexi's body language and downtrodden demeanor, that something was very wrong. There were two possibilities – either one of Ricardo's cronies had gotten to her, making threats against her family if she didn't return to the streets, or - and this one was much more likely - Lexi and Mike had gotten into an argument.

"Oh, Lexi… You've come so far… Don't give up on your dreams for a happy future," the counselor whispered to herself, hoping that Bri would be able to reach Lexi.

The thought of giving up on dreams caused Beverly's eyes to become misty. She looked down at her ring, smiling as it glistened on her finger. She seemed so close to having everything she ever wanted, but in order to become a licensed psychologist, she would have to give up on being a wife and mother, and that was a sacrifice she wasn't willing to make. Marco truly was the love of her life, and she silently prayed that one day they would be blessed with a child. Having a husband and a child would make her life complete – almost.

She inhaled a ragged breath, blinking back the tears. She reached into her desk drawer and withdrew the graduate school application that she had completed, but never mailed. The deadline was fast approaching, but she knew that she couldn't do it. Marco's job didn't pay a lot of money, certainly not enough to fund her schooling. She had planned on seeking student loans to pay for it, but while she was willing to put herself in debt for her future, she refused to ask her fiancé to do that, too. No… it was time for her to let go of the third dream she had been holding onto for so many years, and exchange it for the husband and family that she had longed for most of her adult life. Becoming Mrs. Marco Antonio Lopez was so much more important to her than a framed diploma hanging on the wall.

Beverly allowed a single tear to slide down over her cheek as she crumbled the application into a tightly wrinkled ball of paper. She stood up, tossing the paper ball at the wastebasket as she walked out of her office, not realizing that it had merely grazed the rim of the small can, falling haphazardly onto the floor beside her desk. She picked up her clipboard with the needed paperwork on it, ensuring that she had a business card attached to the top. She needed to hurry to Rampart to see the victim Mike had called her about earlier. She told the housemother where she was going, before quickly leaving the facility. If the young victim wasn't ready to leave the sordid life of prostitution, then at least Beverly would be able to give her a card with emergency contact information on it. The card was small enough that it could be easily hidden for later retrieval when the time was right for her to leave the streets. The conversation she had planned to have with Lexi would have to wait for a little longer.

In the backyard of the safe house, Lexi's eyes seemed to brighten up a bit. "Are you serious? You're ready to come live with us? Now?"

Bri nodded her head. "If the offer still stands. Beverly got a call this morning about a victim at Rampart, so I'm hoping she's going to be needing my bed."

"That's wonderful, Bri," she said, enveloping her best friend in a hug. "Mama and I have already gotten your room ready… This is the best news I've heard in a while."

Seeing her opportunity, Bri released her hold on Lexi, pulling back to look at her friend. "I took the call… It was from Mike."

A shadow immediately crossed Lexi's face. "Oh," she said, returning her gaze to her lap. "Um, did he… uh, say anything else?"

Bri leaned back against the slatted back of the wooden swing. "No, but I can tell by the look on your face that something's going on between you two. Am I right?" She allowed the silence between them to linger, a technique she had learned from her time in counseling. When Lexi began to sniffle, she received her answer. "Talk to me, Lex."

"I… I don't know… what to say," she said in a thick voice. "We had a… a disagreement yesterday, and I don't really know why."

"How did it start?" Bri asked, reserving her judgment until she heard the story.

"We were, um, eating lunch and…" She covered her face with both her hands, leaning her elbows on her knees. "Oh, Bri… Mike and Marco, my own brother, have been talking about me and Beverly. Talking about… um, intimate stuff, you know?"

Bri felt her breath hitch. "Wait… Are you saying that you and Mike are… are sleeping together?"

Lexi lifted her face away from her hands and looked over at her friend. "Just once and… Bri, it was so different than… than anything I've ever experienced, but then… then he ruined it all when I found out that he and Marco had been talking about us! I'm…. I'm really furious at them both!"

"Whoa… slow down… what do you mean by 'talking' about you? What'd they say?"

"Making… um… you know," she sniffled, using the back of her hand to dry her cheeks. "Comments about us… Beverly and me… about when we were, um…," she pressed her lips together tightly. She hated the word, but it was exactly what she had been. She felt her chest heaving, fighting the quiver that made her lower lip ripple with her pent-up emotions. "When we were… pr-prostitutes," she cried.

Bri felt a flash of anger, that was quickly snuffed out by reality. Would Marco really do something like that to his sister? Not a chance. The behavior that Lexi was describing didn't sound like anything Mike would do either, at least not the Mike Stoker she knew.

"Specifically… what kinds of comments?"

Lexi pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them protectively. "You don't believe me, do you?" she sniffled.

"Of course, I do; I'm trying to find out exactly what those comments were. Maybe it was just a big misunderstanding. I mean, why would your own brother, the man who looked for you for years, do something so hurtful to you? And why would Mike, the man who nearly lost his job because of our pimp, hurt you? Lexi, it just doesn't make sense."

Lexi shrugged her shoulders, but did not respond. Her friend was right, and she knew it, but she was still confused by the events of yesterday.

Bri was beginning to think that Lexi might have over-reacted which was very understandable in this situation. "And look at all that Mike has done for you; would he have spent all that time trying to reach you… and then save you from our burning apartment… and date you… just to have something to talk about with Marco?"

"I dunno…," the wounded woman mumbled, shrugging her shoulders. "I… dunno."

Bri felt frustrated by Lexi's lack of engagement in the conversation. "Okay, so let me get this straight," she began, trying a different approach. "You're angry at Mike AND Marco because at some point during a conversation between the two of them, the subject of you and Beverly being former prostitutes came up?"

Lexi silently stared at the fence on the other side of the backyard. It sounded so benign when Bri said it.

"Newsflash, Lex… You both WERE!"

"Damn it, I know that!" Lexi argued, jumping up from her seat and leaning against the A-frame of the swing, her back to her friend.

"Then what's the problem?" Bri asked again, rising to her feet, feeling the need to be at eye level with Lexi, if her friend happened to turn around. "It's not like they lied about anything, and you said it was just the two of them, so it's not like they took out a full-page ad in the LA Times, or anything."

"The problem is that… they can't let it go! Don't you see, Bri?" she asked, turning back around to make eye contact with her best friend. "I'll never be anything but a whore to him,"

Bri stepped closer to the weeping woman. "Him?"

"Huh?" Lexi asked, sweeping her fingers beneath her eyes.

"You said – him, but you've been talking about THEM - Mike and Marco." Bri wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulder. "It's not really Marco that has you concerned, is it? It's Mike." Bri could feel Lexi trembling, letting her know just how serious this was for her.

"I'm such a fool, Bri," Lexi cried, leaning her head against her friend's shoulder. "I was… falling in love with… him, but-"

"But nothing…" Bri pulled back to face Lexi, resting her palms on Lexi's shoulders. "First of all, you aren't FALLING in love with him; you have ALREADY fallen in love with him. That's why you're so upset. And secondly… you aren't being fair to Mike."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me… You aren't being fair to him. If he's in love with you, and I believe he is, then of course he's going to talk to Marco about you. You're talking to me about him, aren't you?"

Lexi felt her face redden. "I'm not talking about him in a negative way!"

"Aren't you?" Bri asked. "You've basically written him off as a jerk who just wanted to have sex with you because he thought you'd be an easy lay. I mean, he didn't even have to pay you for it, did he?"

"BRI!"

Bri narrowed her eyes at her friend, a horrible thought crossing her mind. "Wait, wait, wait… Did he expect you to put out because he bought you lunch?"

"NO! It wasn't like that… the lunch was yesterday. We… we, um, had sex the day before."

"Did he force you?"

"NO! God, Bri…," Lexi huffed in exasperation, running an angry hand through her hair. "Michael isn't a rapist! He's… He's…" Why couldn't she put her feelings into words?

Bri felt her heart lighten. If Lexi was defending him, then she definitely loved him, and maybe Bri could help her see the error in her thinking. Realizing she was making progress with her friend, she continued her line of questioning about Mike. "Is he trying to see how many notches he can carve into his bedpost? He's just like all the other johns out there, isn't he?" She asked. "He just wants a quick fuck from you, but nothing more… You and I are just trash to men like him," Bri commented, her old street language returning.

"Michael is NOT like that!" Lexi argued, turning her back to her friend, staring at the ground.

"Then why are you afraid of him?" Bri asked, pushing her friend a little more.

Lexi continued her heavy breathing, fighting to keep from lashing out at her best friend. "Michael isn't… he isn't someone to be afraid of, Bri… He's not like all those others."

"But you ARE afraid of him," Bri repeated. This time it wasn't a question.

"No," Lexi sniffled, still refusing to look at the other woman, but her voice was beginning to calm down. "I'm not afraid of Michael."

"If it isn't Mike, then what ARE you afraid of?" Bri asked softly.

Lexi slowly stepped over to the picnic table – the same one where she had first visited with her son. Taking a seat at the bench nearest her, she rested her elbows on the table, rubbing her throbbing temples. She sighed loudly as she struggled to explain herself. Bri was her best friend, had been with her through the most difficult period of her life. If there was anyone on earth who would understand how she truly felt, it was Bri. "I'm afraid that one day he's going to look at me and… and wonder why he's with someone like me."

"You're afraid that he'll… reject you?"

Lexi looked down at her hands, picking at her cuticles as a breeze gently strummed through her hair, fluttering it against her face. "I guess… I mean… No, not reject… exactly." Lexi couldn't describe what she was feeling. Was she feeling unsure of her relationship with Mike? Even after spending hours in therapy over the last several months, she still couldn't describe her emotions when it came to Mike Stoker.

Bri huffed out loud. "Damn, Lex… You've got one of the nicest, handsomest men I've ever met, who's pining over you and…, and you don't even want him?"

"Arrgh," Lexi growled. "It's not like that!"

"Well, please explain it, alright? 'Cause that's sure how it looks to me."

"Michael is so…" She hesitated for a moment. "He's so perfect. I mean, you're right; he's wonderful. He's handsome… he treats me like a princess and… and he's so comfortable with Antonio. It's like Ant is Michael's own son, you know?"

"You want to know what I think," Bri asked, taking a seat beside her. Not waiting for permission, she continued. "I think that in some way, you feel safer living in the shadow of your past. You've never been in a mutually beneficial relationship with a man – a real loving relationship. Your father died when you were young and that must've felt like he abandoned you. Antonio's father lied to you. He pushed you into prostitution and even sold you to Ricardo. And we both know all the horrible things Ricardo did to you… to both of us."

Lexi silently sniffled. Bri was peeling back the protective layers that Lexi had wrapped around herself over the last five years, leaving her feeling exposed and uncomfortable.

"Lexi… When you and Mike were intimate… It was probably the first time in your life that you had ever WANTED to allow yourself to become vulnerable with a man." Bri placed her flattened palm against her own chest. "I can't even imagine what that must be like… not yet, anyway. However…, I think that you're afraid… afraid that Mike will… hurt you, either emotionally or physically… or maybe both… So you decided to hurt him first."

"No… I didn't do anything to hurt him. He hurt ME!"

"Did he?" Bri asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "It sounds like all he did was talk to Marco and made love to you. It's not like he shared intimate details with all the guys at the station. He talked with the man who's closest to you – your oldest brother – a man who is now engaged to a woman with a very similar past as yours. Someone Mike trusts… and so do you. Now… how's that hurtful to you?"

Again, Lexi shrugged her shoulders, unable to answer the question. Bri was making a lot of sense, even though Lexi didn't want to admit it. Being angry was oddly comforting for her. It was a feeling she knew and understood. She knew how to be a victim, but she really had no idea how to be a strong and confident woman unless she was angry. Maintaining the wall she had built around her heart was easy, and for several years it had been necessary. Giving and receiving love, especially the physically intimate kind of love, was actually terrifying. And how she felt about Mike was unfamiliar and frightening, too.

"How's Mike and Marco's conversation about you any different than what you and I are doing now, Lexi? We're talking about them."

Lexi took a few moments, regaining her voice before she spoke. "He could have anyone he wants, Bri. Why would he want someone like me?"

"That's a question you'll have to ask him. He deserves your honesty and respect, Lexi. At least talk to him. Tell him how you feel… Share your fears with him. See what he has to say."

Lexi fiercely shook her head. "No, no way… I can't."

Bri, not being one to give up so easily, continued making her point. "Girls like you and me… and Beverly… We've got fears that no one can understand unless they've lived our lives." She thought for a minute, searching for the right analogy to use. Her face lit up when she thought of the best way to describe it. "Do you know how frightening it is to run into a burning building when everyone else is running out of it?"

"Of course not," Lexi responded, knowing exactly where Bri was going with the comment. "Only firemen, or maybe policemen, know that, right?"

Bri smiled warmly at her friend. "That's right. I bet Mike understands having fears and experiences that only another fireman could ever know… Does that soundfamiliar?"

"Yea," Lexi replied, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "But what if he says he… he can't deal with my past?"

"First of all, I don't think that will be a problem, but you need to ask him, not me. And if he says he can't deal with it, then you'll know. But don't assume anything. You know what assume means, right?"

"Yea," Lexi rolled her eyes. "It makes an ASS out of U and ME," she snickered, despite her tears.

"Exactly," Bri replied with a grin, nudging her friend with her shoulder.

Lexi inhaled a shuddering breath. "I really messed up, didn't I?"

"No… I think you opened the door to a very honest and heartfelt conversation with him. Now… will you call him?"

Lexi thought about it for a moment. "He's on shift today, and we need to get you packed up and moved into Mama's house," she said, offering a hint of a smile. "Maybe… Maybe I'll call him tomorrow."

"Well, I won't be able to leave until tomorrow. I need to complete the exit interview and get my things together, but… Promise me that you WILL call him tomorrow… Okay?"

"I promise… that I'll try," Lexi commented, not wanting to lie to her best friend by promising to do something that she had no idea if she could muster up the courage for. "And I'm going to see if Marco will pick you up on his way home from shift in the morning."

"I'll agree to that," Bri laughed, hugging her friend… And in her heart, she hoped that one day she might find someone to love her, too.

E!

At Station 51, the smell of Mexican food permeated the building. While Marco finished preparing lunch, Johnny, his parents, and the rest of the 51 crew sat around the kitchen table listening to the junior medic recount all that had happened during his trip to Selma.

"You seem so calm, John. That had to have been terrifying," Hank said, knowing that his younger paramedic was strong and brave during a crisis, but the emotions often caught up with him, after the fact. He glanced around the table, realizing that this seemed more like a debriefing after a difficult run, than just a few friends catching up on their weekend activities. He smiled inwardly, proud of all his crew members. Families take care of each other, and Station 51 A-shift was definitely a family. He knew that the conversation was cathartic for John, and so, for the next half hour, he continued to encourage his youngest man to discuss the events surrounding the deposition.

After lunch was eaten, the group continued their friendly chatter.

"Marco," Sharon Gage began, placing her napkin on top of her empty lunch plate. "Those were the best enchiladas I've ever eaten."

"Thank you, Ma'am," the senior lineman said, his tanned face blushing slightly.

"Oh man, you ought to taste Mama Lopez' cooking, if you think this was good," Chet announced, hoping to score a few brownie points after his morning debacle with their guests.

"Mama Lopez?" Sharon asked, confused by the lineman she knew was Irish.

"She's my mother," Marco said proudly. "She taught me everything I know about cooking… and, all the fellas call her Mama Lopez because she likes to take care of us."

"Oh, yea, she's always sending food to us," Johnny added.

"Well then, maybe you men would like for me to cook a meal for you sometime, and then I could be Mama Gage," she suggested with a twinkle in her eye.

Johnny leaned forward, making eye contact with all the men around the table. "Y'all are gonna really enjoy my Mom's cookin'," he boasted.

"Will you be here for our next shift?" Hank asked Sharon, cutting his eyes at his junior medic.

"Aww, c'mon, Cap… You mean you don't want me to cook more hotdogs?" Johnny joked.

"No, John… I really do NOT want any more of your hotdogs, especially if your mother is going to be in the area and willing to cook for us," the fire captain added with a grin.

"More than happy to," Sharon piped up, excitedly.

"She hasn't been able to cook for Johnny for a while now, so she has a lot of catching up to do," Roddy said with a wide smile.

"Far out," Chet stated, running his fingers over his mustache. "Say, Gage," he began, but was quickly interrupted by his captain.

"Um, Kelly, don't you have a few dishes to wash?" Hank asked, fearing that the Phantom was lurking about.

Chet, quickly silenced by his superior, stood up and began collecting the dishes from the table while the others continued to talk. After setting the plates in the sink, he reached for the coffee pot. "Would you like some coffee, Ma'am?" Chet asked, obviously still trying to make up for his earlier lack of judgment that resulted in her being doused with cold water.

"No, thank you, Chester."

"Mr. Gage?" the lineman asked, raising the coffee pot.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"I'd like some," Johnny piped up, snickering when Chet discreetly lifted his middle finger, flipping Johnny off as the lineman reached for a mug in the dish drain.

Johnny looked around at the faces of his friends, happy about the way they all seemed to be enjoying talking to his parents. The relief he felt by having the deposition completed was nothing compared to the joy he was experiencing in the presence of his parents. He could tell that they were proud of him, and hearing his friends sharing stories with them about Johnny's bravery and his moments of sheer klutziness, warmed his heart. He loved the fire department, and he loved his station brothers. He also loved Lily, and found himself thinking about her often. He was beginning to think that she might be the one woman he would like to settle down with and maybe even raise a family.

E!

In her grandparents' living room, Lily watched as the clock slowly ticked away the time. Long-distance calling rates were much cheaper after eight o'clock at night, so she was waiting until then to call Johnny. She knew that he and his parents were staying at her mother's empty house in Los Angeles because it had more room than Johnny's small apartment. So much had happened since she last saw him, even though it had only been a couple of days. She couldn't wait to share it with him.

"Lily?" Colleen Jones tiptoed into the quiet living room, unsure if her presence would be welcome.

"Hi," Lily offered through her misty-eyed smile, closing the photo album she had been searching through in the stillness of the Alabama twilight. She still hadn't decided what to call her maternal grandparents so she didn't refer to the older woman with any term of endearment.

"I was jus' wonderin' if you were okay 'cause you didn't eat much supper," the older woman stated, more than asked.

Lily offered a half-hearted smile. "I wasn't very hungry after eating such a big lunch."

"Well, I guess I did kind o' go overboard with my cookin'," Colleen admitted. "It's jus' been so long since I've had the chance to cook for…," she lowered her head, not wanting to say anything to upset her granddaughter. Their conversations had become more civil since meeting at the hospital on Friday, but there was still quite a bit of tension between them. "Well… It's all my fault that I haven't had the opportunity…" She cleared her throat, feeling the emotions knotting up in her esophagus. I see that you're lookin' at pictures of your momma when she was jus' a girl," Colleen commented, nodding her head in the direction of the old family photo album resting in Lily's lap.

"Yes," Lily said with a grin, opening the large album. "I was wonderin' who some of these people are," she added, sliding her finger down the page, momentarily allowing it to rest near the faces she couldn't identify.

"Yes…," Colleen said, taking a seat beside her granddaughter and looking at the black and white photographs. "This chubby little cherub is your momma and the lady holdin' her is my mother… your great grandmother…"

Minutes turned into hours as the two women shared stories from the past. Colleen told about Iris' antics as a child, and Lily filled in the missing details about the last twenty years. When the ornate grandfather clock began to chime, Lily looked up at the antique time piece.

"Oh my, I didn't realize it was so late," Lily gasped, seeing that it was eleven o'clock.

Colleen stifled a grin. "I believe it's only nine o'clock in Los Angeles."

Lily felt herself blushing; although they had only known each other for a few days, her grandmother understood her heart and her fondness for John Gage… Or was it more than just fondness? "True."

"Why don't you give that beau of yours a call. You can use the telephone in the kitchen; there's more privacy in there," Colleen said with a knowing grin. She leaned over closer to Lily and whispered. "And I'll pay for the call. Just keep it under half an hour, okay?"

Lily's face beamed; her grandmother was giving her a gift and she appreciated the gesture. "Thank you," she replied, leaning in as her grandmother reached for her.

The embrace, although not as warm as that of her grandmother Kizzy, no longer felt cold and prickly. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the older woman's kiss along her forehead. "Goodnight, Lily. I…," Colleen hesitated, unsure of how her remark would be received, but finding the courage to move forward anyway. "I love you, dear."

Lily gulped past the lump in her throat. She couldn't say those words yet, not to this woman, but her heart was beginning to warm up to the idea. "Goodnight, um… What should I call you?"

Colleen stood in the open doorway. "Anything you feel comfortable with, sweetheart."

Lily watched as the older woman turned to leave. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Sleep well," Colleen called over her shoulder, heading for the stairs. She didn't want her granddaughter to see her red-rimmed eyes. It was progress. Maybe the progress was small, but it was still progress and for that, she was grateful.

E!

Johnny looked at the clock on the wall in the Campbell kitchen. It was after eleven at night back in Alabama. Using the excuse of jet lag, he had insisted that his parents retire early and that he would clean up the kitchen. His mother seemed to have understood what he was doing – ushering them to bed so that he could have a private conversation with Lily. But the call he had been anticipating still hadn't come, and he was growing worried. Surely she was already in bed at this time of night. Had she forgotten about her promise to call him?

He replaced the dish towel on the rack and then poured himself a glass of milk. Sitting down in the kitchen chair alone, he stared at the table where he and the Campbell ladies had enjoyed so many meals together. Tonight, he had shared the table with his own parents, and somewhere deep inside his heart, he thought about how wonderful it would be to share a meal with his parents AND Lily and Iris – just like family.

His knee began to bounce anxiously as he lifted the glass to his mouth. The shrill ringing of the telephone made him jump, nearly spilling the milk down the front of his shirt.

"Augh…, Campbell residence," he spat out, expecting to hear the professional voice of the operator on the other end of the line, asking him to accept the collect call. Instead, he was greeted by the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

"Hey, Johnny."

"Lily! Hi, baby, I was gettin' worried," he responded.

"I'm sorry, um… Mrs. Jones and I were looking through some old photo albums of my mom when she was a child," she commented, still feeling awkward about the formal use of her maternal grandmother's name, but unsure of referencing her in any other way.

For the next thirty minutes, Lily poured her heart out to the man she loved. So much had happened since she had last seen him. She talked about how well her grandfather was resting and how her mother was spending a lot of time alone with him. They seemed to be making up for the years that had separated them. He was seeing his cardiologist on Tuesday and they were hoping that he had just experienced severe stress. She didn't want to think about what might happen to her mother if he died so soon after being reunited with her. Lily went on to talk about the history of the antebellum home that was the Jones residence. It was less than two miles from the Alabama River and had once been a thriving cotton plantation. They talked about all the people who had lived in it since it had been built, and Lily even shared her thoughts about probably being the first black person who had ever spent the night there as a guest.

"I know it's none of my business, but…" Johnny wanted to ask if the Joneses had explained their negligent behavior over the last two decades, but he wasn't sure how to say what was on his mind.

Lily knew immediately what he was thinking. They had seemed to be able to communicate without words since they had first met. "I know what you're thinking, Johnny, and I think it IS your business. They've talked about being afraid of the KKK, afraid that if they maintained contact with us, then the KKK would track us down. That group doesn't approve of, um, people with mixed ancestry like me, but…, they REALLY don't like white women who choose to be with black men…"

Johnny could hear the pain in her voice, and he wished he could be there with her. "Like your mom?"

"Yea," she managed to say, her voice a raspy whisper. "The Klan has done really horrible things to them and…"

"Are the Joneses trying to say that the reason they turned their backs on you and your parents was to keep y'all safe?" he asked in disbelief. He heard her exhale loudly on the other end of the line, and he immediately regretted his harsh tone. "I'm sorry, baby."

"No… It's okay… Believe me, the same thoughts have been going through my mind, too, but… I don't know… They just seem… nice."

"Nice? They let the KKK keep them away from you, and you call them nice?" Johnny's protectiveness of Lily was beginning to surface. He had wanted her to get to know her maternal family, but he still felt a great deal of anger at the elderly couple for their past behavior.

"Johnny, please… They aren't the only ones who let the Klan separate them from their family."

Johnny felt his nostrils flare. She was right. He had done the same thing. Was it possible that the Joneses were as fearful of the dreaded organization as he had been? "Touche," he softly whispered into the phone.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," she responded.

"I know… but sometimes the truth hurts, ya know?"

"We've all been hurt enough, Johnny. I only have a few more minutes, so let's talk about something else." She thought for a minute. "I really wish you could see the inside of this house. It's like a museum."

Johnny listened intently, enjoying the melodic sound of her voice as she went on to describe the antique furnishings inside the two story home. She seemed to be in a happier mindset than when they had last spoken, although she obviously had not completely made peace with her mother's family – perhaps she never would.

"Man, if those walls could talk…," he muttered, not finishing his thought.

"Yes… They've witnessed everything from civil war to civil rights, and they're still standing just as tall and strong as ever," she stated.

"Just like you, Lil'," he mused. "I think about all you've been through and I'm amazed at how strong you are."

"Aww," she blushed, grateful that he couldn't see her reddening face. "You're the heroic fireman; I'm just a florist."

"No… You're a wonderful woman who has beaten the odds in so many ways. You've overcome the death of your father at an early age. You've overcome dyslexia and joining a cult. You even helped bring down that lying, criminal-minded cult leader. You tower over those people who look at people like us and think that we're not as good as either parent because we're a mixture of two races."

"We've both overcome that," Lily jumped in.

"So we have…"

Silence filled the phone line for a couple of moments.

"I miss you, Lily," Johnny whispered into the phone. "When will you be back?"

Lily bit the inside of her cheek. She had been dreading this part of the conversation, but she knew he deserved to know the truth. "Um… It'll be a few weeks."

"Weeks?" he asked, confused.

"Yes… Um, my grandfather is going to his cardiologist on Tuesday and even if everything checks out fine, mom wants to stay for a little while. There's so many things that they… we… need to work through and… Well, mom is afraid that if she leaves, even though she wants to come back during Christmas, she's afraid that something will happen to them… my grandparents, I mean. They are getting older."

"She's afraid that they'll die without her having a chance to tell them what she wants to say," Johnny commented, having an idea of what that was like. He had really enjoyed reconnecting with his own parents, even though the circumstances were nothing like those that separated the Campbells from the Joneses.

"I think so… Will you be mad at me if I stay here with her? I think she needs me," Lily said, knowing that wasn't the entire truth. Honestly, she needed to spend more time with her maternal grandparents, just to see if there might be a place for them in her life.

Johnny stared at his hand resting on the kitchen table. He felt the backs of his eyes beginning to sting. It seemed as if he could never be completely happy. He was overjoyed that he had reunited with his parents, but that happiness was being tempered by the news that Lily would be staying in Alabama for a few weeks. It seemed like so many people had it all… why couldn't he share in that good fortune just once in his life? Why couldn't he have his parents around, a loving girlfriend close by, and the job he loved? Why did it always seem that he had to give up at least one of those things in order to have the others? When his career was going well, his parents and Lily were not around. When he was with Lily at the Holistic Unity Gardens, he didn't have his job, his friends, or his parents. Now he had his parents in town and the job he loved, but Lily was on the other side of the country.

Johnny bit his lower lip, forcing the words out that he didn't want to say. "Yea… Sure… I know she needs you and, uh… You might enjoy gettin' to know your grandparents better. If not, I'm sure Kizzy would love to spend more time with you."

"And," Lily began, fighting back the tears that were threatening. He seemed unfazed by her plans. Didn't he want to be with her anymore? "I'm sure your parents will enjoy spending more time with you, too."

"Um, ye-ahem, yea."

Lily, keeping a close watch on the time, realized that she needed to end the phone call. She wished they could end it on a more positive note. "Um, I'll call you again… soon."

"Uh… 'kay… My folks will be leavin' on Thursday, so I'll be back at my apartment then. I'll keep a check on things here for y'all though," he quickly added.

"Thanks, Johnny… I'll let mom know. I'm sure she'll… appreciate it," Lily said, trying hard not to let him hear her sniffle. She was missing him more than she had anticipated.

"Well, um, y'all en-enjoy your visit…," he said, allowing the silence to linger between them. "I love you, Lily."

Lily whispered her own goodbye. "I love you, too," she replied, feeling a mixture of confusing emotions as she hung up the phone.

He stood up, quietly scooting the chair back underneath the table and turned off the lights. His feet felt like lead as he trudged down the hallway to the room he had occupied as a teenager. The place where, when his heartache over being separated from his parents had overwhelmed him, he had found comfort in the arms of Lily. Now he was a grown man curling up under those same covers, in that same bed, longing for the woman he loved. Fear crept into his heart and insecurity slithered across his soul as one thought permeated his mind – what if Lily and Iris decided not to return to Los Angeles?

E!

Mike lay awake in bed, tossing and turning, concerned that he might awaken his shiftmates. Deciding that a glass of milk might help him relax, he chose to leave his coworkers to slumber in peace. Marco heard the squeaking sounds of the bunk closest to the dorm door as the engineer slipped out of bed, pulling on his turnouts and boots as quietly as possible before exiting the sleeping quarters. Seeing his opportunity to speak privately to his friend, Marco quietly slipped from the room, following the taller man into the kitchen.

"Mike?"

Bloodshot blue eyes looked up from behind the open refrigerator door. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You okay?" the lineman asked.

Mike returned his attention to the shelf on the refrigerator where the small cartons of milk were kept, pulling a couple of the pink boxes out and tossing one to his friend. "Yea… Just… Just having a little trouble getting back to sleep after that last run."

"Mmhm," Marco grunted, taking his seat at the table and gulping a large drink of the milk. He lowered the carton, using the back of his hand to remove the thin white line of moisture that rested on the edge of his dark mustache. "Only a few more hours… Maybe you can grab some zzz's when you get home."

Mike finished his drink, leaning back in his chair and tossing the empty carton in the trash. The Johnny-like gesture made Marco snicker.

"I hope so," the engineer replied. He was about to tell Marco about his quick turnaround, filling in for the C-shift engineer before their next shift, but the klaxons blared, cutting him off.

"Squad 51… respond in place of Squad 69 to…"

Mike and Marco, both having jumped from their seats, sank back down when they realized the call was for the medics only. Mike listened for their captain to acknowledge the call while the familiar sound of boots and turnouts shuffled towards the squad. As the bay door opened, the two men in the kitchen heard the doors of the squad slamming shut as the truck rumbled to life, screaming into the night, warning drivers to give them the right of way.

Marco looked over at his engineer, seeing the worried look on his face. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," Mike replied, strumming his fingers on the top of the table.

"Is everything okay between you and Lexi?"

Mike's fingers came to a sudden halt and his worried eyes darted over at the lineman. "No… No, it isn't."

Marco felt his chest tighten. Mike's words were confirmation of what Marco had feared. He sighed, propping his elbows on the table and cradling his chin. "Can I help?"

Mike's voice remained flat, his face devoid of emotion. He had to choose his words carefully so as not to offend Marco – after all, Lexi was his baby sister. "Sure… Can you tell me what the hell I did wrong? Everything was fine one minute, and the next, she was chewing my ass out." He ran a hand through his brown hair, leaving it slightly disheveled. "I don't even know what I did."

Marco was almost afraid to ask the most obvious question, but he did it anyway. "Did you ask her?"

Mike huffed out his breath, scrubbing his face with his hands. "Of course I did, but… all she would say was… nothing."

"She didn't say anything at all?" Marco asked, confused.

"No," he responded a little too harshly. Sitting up straighter in his chair, he leaned forward. "I asked her what I had done and she said 'nothing.' So I suggested that we go back to my apartment and talk about it and she said she wanted to go home."

"This was after I left you two at the restaurant?" Marco queried. "She seemed fine when I left."

Mike slapped his hands on the table in frustration. "Don't you think I KNOW that? We were just talking about that conversation you and I had about how we wanted to make sure that Lexi and Beverly knew that we weren't using them because they had been mistreated in the past. She blew up at me," he said, searching his lineman's concerned face for answers. "Hell, she's probably mad at you, too."

"She isn't mad at me. I mean, she called me earlier and asked me to stop by the Wellhouse to pick up Bri on my way home in the morning. Bri's moving into Mama's house."

Mike arched an eyebrow at Marco. "That's good for Bri… Probably good for both of them. I'm glad she's made enough progress to be released back into the real world. Maybe that means that the victim from my first run is going to be moving into the Wellhouse."

"I guess; I haven't talked to Beverly. She works the nightshift at the shelter when I'm at the station." He briefly studied the half empty milk carton he still held in his hand. "Guess I'll find out in the morning."

"I would've helped Bri move… If Lexi would've asked me…" Mike's already somber face darkened even more. "Guess I know when I'm not needed," he mumbled, pushing away from the table.

"Mike, I'm sure it's not like that."

Mike turned sideways, staring back at Marco. His eyes held a hopelessness that Marco hadn't seen before. "The hell it isn't," he muttered, turning back around and pushing his way through the kitchen door. Since he and Lexi had become intimate, he had been trying so hard to make sure that she didn't feel used by him, but now it was Mike who was feeling used, and deep inside his heart, the normally quiet and considerate man was beginning to resent it.

Marco pushed away from the table and stood up. "Hey, wait, Mike… I have an idea…"