Author's Note: Hey! This one's a doozy, but that's gonna be the norm for this story from now on. Thanks for all your continuing support!

Happy reading :)

XXXXX

Ya know, I'd almost forgotten what it was like when all five of us crammed into a rental car together, but driving into Tulsa from the airport brought back all sorts of memories, from Dallas's pointy elbows jabbing into me and Lisa to his and Dad's nonstop chatter to Lisa asking to roll down the windows on the damn freeway and my mother's long-suffering sighs. Yeah – almost. What a way to kick off what is sure to be a rotten week, probably the worst of my life. Every time I thought about the wedding on Saturday, I got sick to my stomach. I almost had to ask Dad to pull over the car more than once. We flew through the outer city limits, passing by all the landmarks I remember from this exact same trip when I was a kid, in all its art deco-cowboy glory. Dad always looks a little happier when we arrive, in a nostalgic way. He likes being home. Mom doesn't always mind it, and even with my predicament, I'm sure she's chomping at the bit to see all her friends. She's even still friends with Cherry Valance and all those same girls from high school, except this one woman named Vickie Washburn (nee Harper), who she's told me and Lisa some horror stories about. Girls really can be evil, and in high school especially.

We dumped all our luggage off at Grandma and Grandpa's before Dad whisked us away to go to Uncle Darry and Aunt Jackie's house, which kinda pissed Mom off because she wanted to talk to her parents, but Dad was a man on a mission. Me? I was dreading it. I could only hope Lee wasn't there, which was of course a pipe dream. Maybe Dad hoped that, too, because the closer we got to the house, the whiter Dad's knuckles got.

"I need a goddamn cigarette," he muttered, and Mom just shook her head.

"Could've hung around my parents' a little longer…"

"No," Dad cut off. "'Sides, Pony's already there."

"How do you know that? Did he call?"

"No. I just…know." He tapped his temple. "Got a sixth sense about these things."

They really did.

xXx

Uncle Pony and Aunt Rose were sitting on Uncle Darry's front porch when Dad pulled the car up to the curb. Of course Dad had been right. He, Dallas, and Lisa bounded out of the car to greet them, and I took a deep breath and went a little more slowly, slow enough that Mom had the time to stop me before I got out. Her hand held mine and she looked at me with sad eyes.

"Honey."

"What?" I sighed, not trying to sound snappish, but I was feeling nervous. Mom rubbed circles into my hand with her thumb.

"You okay?"

I thought about it. "Sure," I shrugged. "I'm not a kid anymore," I said, not quite sure why I did. Mom nodded.

"I know. It'll be okay."

Sure.

I think it's safe to say that every gathering we have is essentially a party. I walked in with Mom, looking around warily. This was more than just our family. This was more than all the Curtises and the Randles. There were strangers everywhere, popping out of every nook and cranny it seemed, and it clicked with me that the fiancé must be here, and her family, too. We'd stumbled into the crossfire. I stopped on the front walk, tugging my mother back.

"Nevermind. You can't make me do this," I hissed. She sighed.

"Mary. Be reasonable. I know this is hard for you, honey, but chin up, sweetheart. 'Kay?"

For the first time ever, I wanted to hit my mother. Just…punch her lights out. How could she have any idea of how hard this was? (Okay, sounding whiny again, but whatever.) I just nodded, and I was glad when Aunt Rose stepped in to hug me. I felt instantly ashamed, even though my mother had no idea what I was thinking, but that's how I felt anyway. It barely registered with me what Rose was saying, something about how well I looked or whatever, something very English in that posh accent of hers.

"I think Jackie overdid it on the food," she confided to me and my mother, "but what's new? I'm sure you're all starving, anyways. Bridget, we should probably go introduce ourselves to Mrs. Macdonald. Mary?"

She was asking if I wanted to come with them. I smiled and shook my head. "I think I'm gonna go say hi to Uncle Pony and everybody first."

Dad and his buddies were all clustered together in the front entrance, blocking the door, really. It's like they were freakin' drawn to each other, like magnets. They just knew when and where the others were around. They were whispering to each other, and I knew they weren't planning a fishing trip or a night out. This wasn't supposed to be heard. And I swear I didn't, but I could guess what they were talking about. They stopped when Pony spotted me.

"Hey, kid!" He threw his arms around me, and I hugged back. I got hugs from his brothers and Steve, too, all of them watching me with careful eyes. I felt awkward.

"I think the girls are all out back or somethin'," Darry told me, and I wanted to tell him that I didn't really want to see any of the girls. I didn't want to see Francine and Annie, who would instantly start scheming. I didn't want to see Martha and Joan because god knows what they made of this situation. And I sure didn't want to see her.I could only stand to see Lisa. Because she would understand I didn't want to pretend to be excited about wedding chatter. "There's also food."

Yes! Food. Perfect. If I'm eating, I don't have to talk.

I grabbed a plate and loaded up, then found a seat in the sunroom and let people come to me. Dallas and John found me at one point and asked me why I was hiding, but I told them to fuck off and let me be unless they had something productive to add, so then they sat down across from me and started telling me all the ways they were going to torture Lee for his bachelor party. 'Torture' wasn't the word they used, but it's sure what it sounded like to me.

"I'm sure the girls would love your input for Melissa's," Dally winked. John snickered, so I guessed he knew what was up, or at least how I was feeling about all this. I smiled my fakest smile.

"Not sure she'll want me there. We're not exactly friends."

"Yeah, but you're part of the family," John shrugged. "That's something."

Oh, it surely was.

I suddenly heard my father's distinctive voice ring out, saying, "C'mon, you should meet my other daughter, Mary. Somethin' tells me y'all will get along just fine…" and I could feel an iciness in my stomach and hell, my soul, and I stood up rod-straight and turned towards his voice.

There she was. Melissa Macdonald. She looked so average. I don't like bashing on other women because, well, hos before bros and all that, but even though she didn't know it, she and I were at war with each other. I tried to look at her in the way that Lee does, in a way that makes her any more than painted plain, a pig with lipstick, but I couldn't. She was all legs and elbows and looked like one of the cheerleaders Daddy and Dally ogled at when they watched OSU games, but without the makeup and skimpy outfit. Or the tits. She had a real Lisa Frank quality to her. A real horse girl. I could tell, having known horse girl extraordinaire Francine Curtis her whole life. And Lisa, she was a cheerleader in high school, mostly because she never ran out of pep, but even Lisa had more of a shape than this chick. There. Just thinking that made me feel a bit better.

"Mary, dahlin'," Dad began in a level tone, "this is Melissa."

Melissa smiled at me and stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

I robotically stuck out my hand and shook. Dad watched on at the awkward exchange, but I couldn't tell if Melissa could sense the awkwardness here. I doubted she knew the full story. "Hi," I deadpanned. "I've, uh, heard a lot about you," I lied, sort of. I knew enough. Melissa smiled wider.

"Really?" She asked, and I nodded. Dad leaned in to say something in my ear.

"Trust me on this," was all he said, then he patted me on the back and left me and Melissa alone. And as soon as he left, Melissa took in a deep breath and asked cheerfully,

"So! Tell me about yourself, Mary!"

xXx

"So then he says, 'trust me on this', and…waltzes away, just like that."

Annie is used to hearing me bitch about my father, and pretty much the rest of my family, too. She does the same thing with me. Poor Annie has two brothers, who with their combined powers are almost as diabolical as my brother. She needs girls like me and Francine to keep her in touch with the side of herself that isn't always on the lookout for incoming wet willies and other boyish pranks of the like.

I don't know much about how weddings work, so I wasn't sure why this party was happening. Maybe to welcome the family's prodigal son – which was still Ponyboy, even now that he was in his forties. Obviously, he and my father hadn't met Lee's fiancé and her family yet, and I'm sure Uncle Darry and Aunt Jackie (Aunt Jackie especially) were particularly eager to host this get-together so that could happen. It all felt like a political game. James has told me stories about parties that weren't really parties; they were under that guise, but it was all for making connections, getting ahead. I suppose it pays to know a senator's son, and may pay even more to date one. Sitting there like I was, feeling as lousy as I did, that option was becoming more and more feasible to me.

"He must have his reason," Annie said gently. We were both looking out at the party, watching everyone have a good time. The Macdonalds were sure a large family, and all of us together was quite the crowd, but the Curtis household could handle it. They'd proven that much over the years. "Ya know, Franny and I worked on 'im."

"Lee, you mean?"

Annie nodded. "We, uh…Mary, it's you," she whispered. "It is. That's why this makes no sense. His sisters…well, they think it has something to do with what happened with Jackie last year, why this has all been such a whirlwind."

"But why her?" I asked, drumming my fingers against my red Solo cup. I wanted some more cheese and crackers, but I wasn't feeling brave enough to emerge from my perch. Annie seemed to waffle a bit.

"Mary, we all saw…well, that boy you're with. What's-his-name. All of us."

"His name is James Williams, Senator Williams of Massachusetts' son." James, I had to admit, did look a bit like Lee. "It was a chance meeting."

"We've seen the two of you on TV."

"Not like I chose that. It's not my fault that…that cameras follow those sorts of people."

Annie sighed. "Mary I think this situation is much more complicated than we really know, so many…mixed signals, and I think it's gonna have to be you who gets to the bottom of it cuz, well, he'll talk to you. Wanna know what we should do 'til then?"

"What's that?"

Annie tapped her cup against mine. "C'mon, Mary." Annie suddenly produced and proceeded to wave a six pack in front of my face. "Let's get skunked, sugah."

xXx

Oh, god. I'm reminded every time I drink with Annie of why I don't drink with Annie.

xXx

My parents are singing.

Singing!

Both of them!

I hate what Oklahoma does to them.

"Goooooood mornin', Mary dahlin'," Dad paused, greeting me. I'm the second-to-last one up. My brother is surely still asleep. Dallas sleeps like the dead.

"Good morning," I mumbled as I slumped into a seat at the kitchen table. My grandparents are nowhere in sight, so I assume they've already headed for the country club. My little sister, Lisa, is sitting next to me. We're waiting on breakfast. That's what Mom and Dad are up to while they sing the score to – I shit you not – Oklahoma! And I want to disintegrate into the floor.

"Good morning," Lisa tried, obviously nervous to test the waters but doing so anyway. I grunted at her.

"Hey," I said. "Were you up first?"

Lisa nodded. "I saw when Gramma and Grandpa left. They said they'll be back for dinner."

I nodded, but I also wasn't really listening. I was trying to tune out my entire family. Mom set a paper towel-covered plate of bacon on the table while Dad whistled along to her singing. ("Many a new day will dawn…") Mom can carry a tune. Dad can accompany her just fine. I just wasn't in the mood for it.

"You guys are being too loud," I mumbled, and I don't think anybody except for maybe Lisa heard me. But if she did, she didn't say anything.

"Lisa, baby, you want a bagel?" Daddy asked.

"With peanut butter," Lisa said.

"Alright. Mary, you want one?"

I shrugged, but his back was turned to me, so he didn't see. "Sure. Thanks." Talking was still hard this early in the morning. I don't think it was exactly very early, though. Dad popped two halves in the toaster and pushed them down. Whispered something to Mom about Dallas, and she absently nodded. I blearily blinked my eyes. The sun…it is…too bright. I watched my mother move effortlessly around the kitchen, trailing off into a hum, her and Dad in perfect harmony as always. I know that Mom and I look alike, but she's floating around in a delicate baby pink robe, and every movement she makes seems deliberate, like an intricate dance. Dad is her partner, lifting up his arms with a pan still in his hands so she can pass under them to get to the fridge. I wonder if Dad's buddies are like this with their wives. I wouldn't really know. I haven't paid them as much attention. Then I wondered if someday, this is what Lee and Melissa Macdonald would be like with each other, and I almost threw up.

A few moments later, there was a fast thumping of feet, and Lisa and I exchanged looks – there was Dallas. He entered the kitchen just as mine and Lisa's bagels popped, and he instantly reached for them. Mom smacked away his hand.

"Those aren't for you," she said.

"What? Who are they for, then?"

"For those of us that have been awake," Dad said, grabbing Dally by the shoulders and leading him to the table. "Sit. Stay a while, Dallas," he grinned, and even Dallas didn't seem up to Dad's antics this morning because he rolled his eyes. Dad didn't see.

"Good morning," Lisa said to him, too. Dallas was nicer than I was when he acknowledged her.

"Hey, Lisa," he said, absentmindedly pricking his finger, drawing a little spot of blood. He suddenly looked up. "Hey – where are Gramma and Grandpa?"

Mom and Dad set food down on the table and then sat down. Dallas instantly started to dig in. My stomach was still waking up, rocky from a little too much drinking the night before, so I just grabbed an orange and started peeling it. "Clubbin'," Dad deadpanned. Dallas raised an eyebrow.

"At this hour? Awfully early…"

"They're at the country club," Mom sighed, a bit exasperated. "They'll be back by dinner."

"So, like, four 'o' clock."

Dad snorted, but Mom just rolled her eyes. I decided now would be as good a time as any to bring up what I'd heard last night. Because speaking of four 'o' clock… "I heard you come in last night, Dad."

Dad shot me a look, eyebrow already cocked like he'd had it armed and ready. "Oh?" He asked. "How the tables have turned," he said sarcastically, "you askin' me 'bout where I was last night."

I shook my head. I was almost twenty-five years old and didn't live at home anymore, and here Dad was, acting like I was still fifteen. "I'm not asking anything," I said innocently. "Just saying I heard you come in."

"Funny you bring that up, sweetie, because it just so happens that the guys and I were talkin' 'bout you just 'fore I left."

"Oh?" I asked sweetly. "What about?"

I knew what about. I knew damn well what about.

"Can I guess?" Dallas asked. He had a mouth full of bacon, and Mom gently reprimanded her fully-grown son to not talk with his mouth full. So he swallowed and asked again, "Can I guess?"

"Dallas," Dad warned, and he backed off. "'Sides, it ain't me with the hangover."

Oof. That was fair; point one for Dad.

"Speakin' of, are you okay?"

My whole family was now looking at me. They'd put the meal on pause and had their intense focus set on me. I shifted uncomfortably, still picking at my orange, wondering if maybe a piece of toast or some bacon might not be such a bad idea. Or coffee. I'm a nurse; bigtime coffee drinker. I tried to avoid thinking about what I knew they were asking about. "Fine," I said in a short, clipped tone. The four of them seemed to lean in closer, all cocked eyebrows and disbelieving stares and witty retorts at the ready in the event of my next inevitable misfire. Keeping up with this family's antics could be exhausting. "Really," I insisted.

"Interesting," Dallas mused. "Cuz that's not what Vinny and Tommy told me that Annie told them."

I rolled my eyes. "When the hell did you have time to talk to them?" And great – Annette's running her mouth. Just what I need.

"Doesn't matter."

"Joan and Martha told me – "

I slammed my hand down on the table, rattling the dishware. All four of them started, and I sighed and covered my cheeks with my hands. "I don't care what anybody said. I don't care what any of them said," I said miserably, dropping my hands into my lap. "Daddy, do they know about me and Lee?"

Mom cleared her throat and looked down at her lap. I was starting to get the feeling that she didn't like talking about this subject. Daddy pursed his lips. "They do."

I'd ruined breakfast. My stomach churned. Dallas mumbled, "Well, shit," and that pretty well summed up the situation.

xXx

Sundays aren't a day for mail, but Grandfather still handed me something he'd found taped to the front door. "Secret admirer?" He asked as I read. I'd recognize Lee's distracted handwriting anywhere.

"Something like that." I stood and kissed his cheek. "Tell Mom and Daddy I won't be out too late."

xXx

"Hi, Lee."

This was the first time I'd seen him eight months. His rogueish smirk made me weak at the knees. "Hey, Mary."

I sat down at his table and set my bulky purse on the ground. He watched me with interested eyes. A waiter came over, and I felt like an idiot for ordering a glass of water in a bar, but I didn't want a repeat of last night. Even Lee seemed amused. "Alcoholism runs in my family, ya know," I told him in my defense. Because it did. On my father's side.

"I know," he said, because of course he did. We all knew nearly everything about each other. "But you're not an alcoholic. That title belongs to your old man."

My heart felt all twisted up. That wasn't exactly a secret, but that didn't mean I liked hearing it any better. And it wasn't like my father was a mean old drunk or anything, and as much as he and I have our disagreements, he's a good man, and I know he loves all of us. He's just…yeah. "I'm just being careful. Annie got me fuckin' sloshed last night."

Lee's smile grew even bigger, but still holding back. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "And I'm sure you can guess the reason why, and I'm sure that reason has something to do with why we're here right now. So, Lee Curtis – whaddyah got to say for yourself?"

I crossed my arms and waited. All Lee's note had said was when and where to meet him, but like I said, there isn't much we don't know about each other, him and I especially. So I waited him out. I had a million things to say, but I wanted to watch him squirm and try to come up with an excuse this time. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, especially not this woman.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

"I'm sure I will."

And I surely did, once he told me how exactly he'd gotten himself into this mess, the poor puppy lover, but then it settled with me that it was eight months later and he hadn't backed out, and that it had been eight months since the last time I'd seen him, with only a phone call or two in between, and I had to wonder just what the hell it was we were doing. He clearly wanted to marry Miss-wannabe-Oklahoma. If he hadn't figured that out in eight months, then he was stupider than I thought he was.

"What the hell, Lee."

"I know."

"No, I mean what the hell?"

"And I mean, I know."

I threw up my hands, completely and utterly done. "Lotta good that does me, Lee Curtis."

"Mary."

I loved the way he said my name, every time he said it. It's like he knew how to say it, intrinsically. He had a command on it that sent shivers up and down my spine and made my stomach feel all warm. Fuck him for making me feel like that when I was supposed to be pissed at him. "Lee?"

"I thought you'd moved on."

Fuck.

xXx

I decided that from that point on, for the rest of the week until this wedding, my time would be best spent with our tribe's own version of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. As the oldest daughter of the twelve kids, I could step in and fill the space Francine's mother would have occupied, had she not run out. I was a pretty good cards player, anyways, and could be catty with the best of them. So while Dallas was plotting Lee's bachelor party with Vinny and Tommy and Mike and John, and while Lisa was out gallivanting with Joan doing girly shit arm-in-arm, I tagged along with my mother to go to the Randle's house and listen in on the family gossip, while doggedly trying to pretend that I wasn't a probable subject of said gossip.

"You probably have better things to do than hang around a bunch of old ladies," Mom said with a smile on her face, like she thought she was oh-so-funny. I rolled my eyes.

"You're not that old, Mom."

"Half a century," she shrugged.

"Congratulations," I deadpanned. Mom had taken over her childhood home's kitchen last night to make a sweet potato pie, which I was now charged with carrying since I'd come along.

For an "old lady," Mom sure did have a lot of pep in her step, striding up the front walk and the porch steps and just letting herself in the house because she knew that she was expected. Mom and Dad have that in common – they just assume they're welcome, Mom because she had that entitled upbringing, and Dad because he thinks he's the life of the party. It's kinda annoying, but they're always right to follow that particular instinct. No one ever turns them away.

"Oh, goodness, that's Mary Mathews," Aunt Jackie drawled when she saw me. I gave her a tight smile and resisted the urge to tell her that her son was a rake. I set the pie down on the counter and sat down at the kitchen table. Evie was pouring coffee with generous amounts of cream and sugar – none of them took it black – to go with the pie. The kitchen was very cozy, homey; fall is a good season, very aesthetically pleasing, and October is the best month, what with Halloween and my birthday and all.

"It certainly is," I said. "Aunt Jackie, I bet you're just over the moon right now."

"Don't get her started," Evie interjected, and Mom shot me what would probably be the first of many warning looks. "It's been the only thing she's been talking about since February, rubbin' all our faces in it."

"What?" Jackie tried playing coy. "I'm just excited for my son."

"Uh-huh," Aunt Rose drawled, sliding her eyes over to her friend. "No one likes a gloat, Jacqueline."

"And no one likes uppity pricks, Rosalind, but we can't all get what we want, can we?" Jackie retorted, and instead of sparring, Rose just laughed.

"Creole," she said lowly.

"Limey," Jackie shot back. And that was that.

"It's days like this where I miss smoking," Evie sighed, lowering herself into her seat across from me and next to Mom. "It just feels like the perfect moment for one."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't exactly miss the lingering scent of nicotine in all my clothes," Mom said, busy cutting perfectly portioned slices of pie and doling them out. One of them had made homemade whipped cream, with what looked like little flecks of cinnamon.

"You've never smoked cigarettes," I said.

"Yeah, but everyone else did. Your father did." Does. As in, present day, still does it. This seems to be common knowledge to everyone in my family except for Mom. I think even Tony, Dallas' best friend, knows. I know Jenny knows. When Mom's out of the house, Dad will sit on the back porch for a while and just…smoke. At least, that's what he did when I was still living at home. And Dallas. Dad can hide shit pretty good, is what I'm getting at here. "Smells horrible."

"Just brings back a lot of memories," Evie went on. "Ya know, I smoked through both of my pregnancies. When younger gals at the salon hear that, they're appalled, but it's not like my kids are bedridden, asthmatic sea monkeys."

"It was a different time," Rose shrugged.

"Doctor told me with Mary and Dallas that I could smoke to relieve stress, but I can't stand the taste anyways."

Sometimes I wonder if all these women could talk about was family life: pregnancies, child rearing, the trials and triumphs of marriage; tips for getting baby spit-up stains out of clothes and trading recipes for easy weeknight dinners. For a group of progressive women, they were a bit stuck in the past. All of us had grown up, moved on, and here they were talking about being pregnant, something none of them had been since Mom had given birth to Lisa nineteen years ago.

"Mary, your mama's been tellin' us that you've been seein' somebody," Jackie sing-songed. "So now that you're here, we demand that you spill!"

Oh, good God.

"Yeah, honey – give," Evie tacked on, making a grabbing motion with her free hand.

I looked over at Mom, who looked particularly pleased with herself. I was begin to suspect that I'd gotten caught up in one of her Mom-schemes. I'm sure she thought she was just doing what was best for me, trying to get me to focus on a guy who was chasing my tail and wasn't engaged, but it still made me feel even a bit more sour towards her. I forced a smile.

"Sure. For starters – any of you guys see the pictures of us together at the White House's Fourth of July celebration?"

xXx

"Mary, when was the last time we did something together, just you an' me?"

I shot Dad a funny look. "Dunno, Daddy. What do you and I usually do together, anyways? I feel like whenever I see you anymore, there isn't any time for that sort of thing."

Dad sometimes gets like this, especially after talking to his family. Seeing his mother and sister always makes him a bit softer for a little while – and Mom says that growing up around all that estrogen didn't prepare him to raise it. It's one of the few things she and I disagree on. This time around, he's asking the question while I'm sitting at my grandparents' kitchen table once again, sitting under lights that haven't been updated since the sixties, flipping through another gossip magazine. I'd found this one in my mother's old room, which Lisa and I always shared when we were here. It was thirty-year-old goss, but the pictures were fabulous. Dad sat down next to me.

"You're hardly ever home anymore," he shrugged, probably a bit of a lament. He clasped his hands together and started twirling his thumbs. I set down my magazine.

"Are you trying to get at something?"

"Oh…no," he lilted, waving a hand and shaking his head. He definitely was. "Dahlin', no. I just thought you might wanna…get yer mind off things." He shrugged and gave me a kind look. It made me feel funny.

"Are you with me on this?" I asked.

He knew exactly what I meant, and exactly why I was asking. "'Course. Just like I am with so many of your predicaments and schemes. You're my baby, baby."

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "Yeah. Guess I am."

"But it can't be me that does anything, ya know. I hate seein' yer heart broke, kid, but Darry and Jackie would kill me. I'd ruin forty years of friendship – know what I'm sayin'? This is up to the two of you." Dad grinned his famous grin. "But I'm in your corner, babygirl."

xXx

We looked at pictures together.

Of Mom when she was younger, of him and Mom together. Home from their San Francisco trip thirty-three years ago; candids and pictures where they didn't look too happy to be posed; wearing bellbottom jeans and tinted sunglasses; with their friends – Mom with her gaggle of Yentas, and Mom and Dad with the people we consider family; at their wedding; with me. That seemed to be where that particular album ended, with me, but it lasted us long enough because Dad remembered the story behind every picture.

"Your mom and I know a few things about rocky romances," he confided. "I think we had to deal with a few more…external factors, but. Ya know. Ain't like it's always been easy for us. Yer mama's dumped me more than once, actually," he laughed. I smiled a little despite myself.

"Yeah, but only one of those times ever really lasted."

"That's true," he allowed. "But she threatens me with it almost every time we fight." I felt his eyes on me. "Are you scared of what she'll think?"

"Think of what?"

"What she'll think if you and Lee derail this wedding."

Without knowing there was even a nail, he hit it. We got quiet, letting this oldies station fill the space with Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Reverend Gary Davis and their gospel singing. I looked away from my father and stared at a picture of Mom holding me on the front porch of the very house we were in, then an appropriately placed picture of Lee and I side-by-side. "Maybe," I whispered, not having even considered that possibility.

"Your mom and her friends, all these ladies, they like order," Dad told me. "And they've got a set of rules in their heads that they don't think should be broken. Society girls, each in their own way. Hell, I grew up with Evie, same shitty neighborhood, and even she's got all these ideas about how things like this should go. I just want you to know that Jackie might be pissed at ya if the two of you run off together, but the rest of us'll be backin' ya, even if we do end up wasting all that food."

I coughed out a watery laugh, not knowing I was crying. "You, uh, sure have a way with words, Daddy."

"That I do. Really, Mary, I got your back on this. You just say the word, and I'll go kick this kid's ass. I'll do it! I might even do it without any provokin'!"

I laughed again. "God, stop."

"Fine," he said petulantly, crossing his arms. It was odd having Dad on my side for once, but I couldn't say I minded. I sighed.

"They can be so old-fashioned."

"They've got themselves set in their ways, and that can be hard to break away from. Yer mama was a real prude when I met her, so she's made considerable progress!"

I suppose. I loved her, but it wasn't just her; Dad was the one who noticed when my skirts started getting shorter. I really didn't like disappointing my parents, not at all, and I've only felt like more and more of a disappointment the older I've gotten. Why do I always bring home the worst boys? Why did I become a nurse instead of a doctor? Now, the newest question would be why the hell did you ruin a perfectly good wedding?

xXx

I asked him before I went to bed why he introduced me to Melissa. I found him sitting on the patio with in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I thought about what Lee said earlier, and what I had agreed with. But my father didn't look like some old drunk. He had long hair and a beard and scars and dressed like a cowboy; he was dusty and loose and could go from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds, but he didn't scare me, and it had never occurred to me to look at him through a lens that would. For those of us that were close to him, there was nothing to be afraid of. But it also occurred to me that it was too late to change anything about him. It must drive my mother insane.

"Avoidin' her's not the answer," he told me. He took another pull of his drink. It was harder stuff than any of the rest of us liked, and he drank it like water.

"So you were having me check out my competition."

Dad laughed, but shook his head. "Naw. Not exactly. She's a…fine girl, Mary."

"So?"

"So, much as I'm on yer side, I need you to realize that she ain't evil. He picked her for a reason, and that ain't her fault. So don't go hatin' on her."

I pursed my lips and tried not to cry. I was through with tears. "Did they tell you what really happened?" I asked. Dad took a drag off his cigarette.

"You mean, when he asked her?"

"I mean when he didn't ask her and she thought he did."

Dad clearly thought it was funny, because his chest started shaking with silent laughter. I wanted to scream. None of this was funny. But I guess it was. Because it kinda was. "Yeah," he said, voice weak with laughter, "I know. We all know. Come mornin', so will your mother – she'll get a real kick outta this one."

Fantastic.

"Daddy," I said quietly, and he took in a deep breath to get himself under control because now I was being emotionally vulnerable and all that. "He never meant to ask her."

"I know," he sighed. He snuffed out his cigarette and grabbed my hand. "But that hasn't stopped him from stayin' with her."

XXXXX

AN: These chapters are gonna have a bit more of a flow to them and be a bit longer because we're really into the story now, and I'm planning on ten chapters.

Thanks for reading!