The next day, Ben and Karen cart Jimmy, Charlie, Fred, the Musgrove girls and I into town for a day at an amusement park. It's a local, slightly ancient carnival, with a go-cart track that reminds me of Jolly Roger's in Ocean City, Maryland (if not more rickety). Mary, the boys and her in-laws have retreated further into town for some shopping (much to Mr. Musgrove's chagrin), leaving us all considerably giddy in their absence. The weather's quite balmy too.

Karen, poor Karen, has to sit out for around ninety-percent of the rides. Out of sympathy, I remain bench buddies with her for the first couple, the foremost of which is The Claw, a giant, foot-dangling rotator that twirls so rapidly that I'm glad to have parted ways. I'm pretty sure I would've blown chunks otherwise.

The mother-to-be props her feet up on the bench's arm beside me, leaning her back against mine, sipping a monstrous blue slurpee. Reclining her head back a little, her freckled face squints at me, "Say, Anne, just let me know if I'm too heavy to be leaning against you, okay?"

"Don't be silly, Karen, you're fine."

She grins, sighing, "I'm practically a whale now."

"No, not whale per say - maybe something cuter, like-"

"A grizzly bear?" Karen asks, letting her shades down a little to wink at me.

"Better," I laugh, shrugging.

"Hm," she reclines her head back again, slurping away. I get lost in my own daydreams, watching a group of young kids scurry by squabbling about balloon colors and who has whose. She notes that I'm more pensive today than usual, and I turn to her.

"I'm a daydreamer, what can I say?" I smile, examining a strand of my hair absently.

She tsks, "I hear you," and then smoothes her palm affectionately over her rounded belly, grinning, "I hope this kid can handle my zoning out."

I laugh, "You too?" At her nod, I ask, "Do you guys know the sex of the baby?"

"We want to be surprised," Karen rolls her eyes, straightening. She faces me completely, her tawny eyes peeved, "Correction, Ben wants to be surprised - I just went along with it."

"Surprised, you say," I chew the inside of my lip, crossing my legs so I sit Indian style on the bench. I wonder if he wants a boy or a girl.

She gives me a funny look, "Easy there, Yoda - What are we thinking about?"

I laugh, shaking my head. I love Karen's constant use of "we" in her dialect - maybe it's because I love the fact that she's so warm and open even if you've only known her for a day or two. Not many people are like that. Or else, I haven't been acquainted with many. But the Harvilles so far, I'm really glad to have met.

"Got any names picked out?" I ask conversationally.

Karen grins, "We have names that we don't want picked out."

"Let's hear them."

"I think Topanga and Chewbaca top the list," she nods mournfully. I grin, just as we spot our group returning from the exit ramp of The Claw. Hannah looks faintly green, and Louisa's got her arm propped over her shoulder, murmuring to her with an encouraging smile.

I cock my head, thinking, There's that sisterly affection I've been expecting.

But in a moment, I see Lou glance over her shoulder to toss a winning grin at Fred who lurks near, and I instantly know it's for show, to make him see that she's some sort of caring, compassionate creature on top of everything else completely overdone. I shrug off my judgments - whatever, I don't really give a shit about either.

That's harsh. I might take that back later.

"Hey, hey," Ben Harville greets us, leaning down to press a kiss to his wife's cheek. She smiles and he helps her waddling self up.

"Hold my slurpee, Miss Anne," Karen hands it to me, and rises onto her feet, sighing, "God, I'm huge."

"You're adorable," Ben presses, smiling. There's so much love there, that we all could really kind of evaporate just witnessing it. Not gooey, crap love squirted out of a big ol' tube of Fake, but real, genuine, no-bullshit-here love.

It takes me a moment to register that our group is missing its eighth member. I spin on my heel, looking around, "Where's Jimmy?"

"Puking in the mens' room," Fred winces, rubbing the back of his head.

Karen gawks, "Top-notch job there, gentlemen, leaving your pukee by himself."

"It's not like he's drunk," Louisa defends them, crossing her arms over her chest. But Ben shakes his head, agreeing with his wife, and disappears towards the restrooms nearby. After a few minutes, Jimmy joins us at last, looking quite normal, if not a bit ashen.

"Weak stomach," he apologizes with an embarrassed grimace when we start on our way towards the food court. I nod sympathetically, gesturing to Hannah, and he spots her, "She's better than me, actually - Didn't throw up or anything."

"Oh, it may be coming," Hannah grimaces, moving a hand to her abdomen. She casts a wistful glance over to the restrooms again with a pained expression, "Anne, Lou, come with me?"

Louisa groans, but we three excuse ourselves for "Just a bit, we promise", and dash off to the restrooms.


"That was delayed," I note with surprising cheeriness when Hannah grips the toilet seat wearily and empties the contents of her stomach out. I hold her hair back, leaning against the stall, hearing Louisa's sighs of impatient irritation just outside.

"I'm sorry," Hannah sniffs, and I help get her cleaned up. Outside, Louisa and I help her wash her face, and her sister is nice enough (for once) to reapply her make-up with a steady and talented hand, actually. I sit on the sink counter, watching Louisa retouch Hannah's cover-up with quick, nimble fingers. Her color is starting to return too, and she catches my observations in the mirror, raising an eyebrow.

"What is it?" she asks.

"You're just looking better, that's all - Are you well enough to stay here?"

"Yeah, sure, sure," she nods quickly, and Louisa gives her a look. I raise an eyebrow - Is there seriously still a competition for Fred Wentworth? I thought that was abandoned by now. Louisa must be thinking the same thing, because she adds conversationally:

"Hannah, have you heard from Chase Hayes lately?"

The expression on her sister's face is amusing - it passes from panic to slight happiness to impassive skepticism in a moment. It's all faintly hysterical, and confusing.

"No," she sniffs pointedly.

The name's a little familiar to me, so I ask about him, receiving a winning, smiley explanation from doe-eyed Louisa.

"Anne, sweetie," she takes my hand, "Chase could practically be Hannah's soul mate! They went out all last year. He's such a cutie - tall, smart, in a rock band. He seriously wrote her like, five love ballads or something. But she broke up with him a couple months ago, and he's been pining ever since."

Hannah swats at her, "He has not." But she's blushing, either from anger or embarrassment, one can't be sure - maybe it's both.

But Lou's all in rapture, sighing, "I'm surprised he hasn't called since you've been here. I know he left like, forty-five messages on our answering machine since graduation."

Hannah grumbles something under her breath, but you get the impression that she still digs this guy, and she hates Louisa for bringing it up. She practically gives her the stink-eye while applying a couple of coats of mascara.

I smile at her, tucking a black curl behind her ear, "You still like him, Han?"

"I don't know," she sighs, "I broke it off because he got too clingy - but yeah, I guess there are still feelings there."

"Why don't you give him a call tonight?" Louisa suggests, brushing her auburn bangs out of her eyes. After Hannah reluctantly agrees, I can't help but silently smirk at how hopeful Lou now looks, practically venting off her relief that her sister has no more intent for snooping around Fred Wentworth. What might have been irritating before is kind of just amusing now, and I'm happy it's gotten this way. I feel lighter now, seriously. I feel like I can honestly say that I'm free of Fred Wentworth - Louisa can have him if she wants. It's such a strange, airy sentiment, but it's liberating.

On our way out, Hannah gives me a skeptical glance, "Hey, what about your love life?"

"What about it?"

"Cozying up to Jimmy, huh? You guys are cute together - Maybe you can get some action this week," she grins, and then emits a squeak halfway between laughter and screaming as I chase her around the ladies' room.


Despite Hannah's snide, suggestive quips, I really am hanging out with Jimmy Benwick quite a lot. We're frequent ride partners, I realize, after Ben points this out while we're waiting in line to go on the Ferris wheel. Karen (bless her), is reading a People magazine just outside in the waiting area, Hannah seated beside her with an iPod. We've been taking "Karen Shifts" out of common courtesy, despite her fervent insisting that we not bother.

The line progresses slowly, and Jimmy himself is out of earshot, conversing quietly with Charlie up ahead. Fred lingers just in front of us with Louisa, talking about who-knows-what. Ben turns to me with a serious expression on his face, uncharacteristic for the warm, generally bubbly type he is. I raise an eyebrow without really meaning to, propping my shades up.

"Anne," he says, "I just want to say thanks."

I blink, removing the straw from the Coke I'm sipping from my mouth, "What for?"

"For being such a great friend to Jimmy the past couple of days - It really means a lot. You've gotten him to open up more than he has in the past few months, and it's wonderful."

I'm a little confused. I mean, I know the guy is shy, but isn't he being treated a bit like a charity case among his peers here? I share this with Ben, and he rubs the back of his neck unsurely and begins to explain accordingly.

"Jimmy's a great guy, but he used to be more sociable before. See, six months ago, he lost his girlfriend in a car accident."

The straw drops from my mouth completely, "Oh God."

"Yeah," Ben sighs, "They were very close, together for almost five years. He's been very closed up ever since, and didn't make it a point to talk to anybody really, not even me or Fred, and we're a pretty close-knit bunch from our days working together," Ben takes a tentative step forward, "Carried on like a machine - Working six days a week, living in total silence."

"Wow," I murmur, shaking my head. I glance back to Jimmy, smiling easily in the company of Charlie, sharing a private joke.

"He seems to be getting along wonderfully with you- I'm just happy you're as sweet and open as you are; I think you're the first friend he's really clicked with in a long, long time," Ben smiles meaningfully, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I blush, "Thanks, Ben. I just, I had no idea."

Ben nods, sighing, and then raises his head as he's called by Charlie up ahead. He apologizes and excuses himself, and I'm left alone to my own thoughts over this new sliver of information, considering it from all aspects. My reverie is interrupted by Fred, however, who has inched away from Louisa gradually and is now at my side.

"So, now you know, huh?" he asks, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

I throw him a skeptical glance, "Eavesdrop much?"

"Guilty," he smiles for good measure.

I sigh, swinging my arms as the line progresses slowly, and we round a corner, "It's terrible."

"Yeah," Fred murmurs, his dark eyes darting towards Jimmy. "It's relieving that he now has you to talk to. He needs more good people in his life."

I'm aware of the compliment, and look down for a moment as silence fills the space between us temporarily. So, apparently he still believes that I'm a good soul, and maybe not a frigid bitch? It's comforting. I cast him a sidelong glance, noting that he looks perfectly calm and friendly. His animosity has temporarily evaporated, and I wonder if maybe we've finally thrown in the towel? Is this us finally embarking on a good note, or am I being too idealistic?

Vaguely, I'm attentive to the fact that there's something distinct I wanted to share with him, but for the life of me, I can't remember - Something I had talked about with Cathy a couple of days past. But Fred interjects with unexpected pleasantries.

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah," I shrug, thinking about the accommodations. The room's been pleasant enough, and I've gotten enough sleep -- I jump, suddenly remembering, and he flinches, wide-eyed. "Sorry! I just remembered something I wanted to tell you."

"Shoot, then."

I realize there's no use just tiptoeing around the topic, so I plunge in with, "Your sister's renting out my house in the next couple of months."

He halts mid step then, his brown eyes wide. I can almost hear the wheels of his mind churning and, with a creased brow, he asks, "Sophie's renting out your house?"

"Yeah--"

He sighs, raking a hand through his hair briefly, "I think this is just irony coming back to bite us in the ass; as if there are seriously no other homes in Kellynch county."

"I know, right," I mumble, amused that my thoughts mirror his own. "Hey, why Kellynch?"

"Hm? Oh," Fred squares his shoulders, "Her husband, David, is working on a year-long project for Bristol-Myers Squibb, and it's the only area they liked close enough. Apparently they were drawn to its low crime rates and squeaky clean suburbia."

I snort, "Hm. Yeah, that's irony for you. How is Sophie, by the way?"

"Good, good," Fred notes, "Still eccentric and unethical and new-age-y. But I think you've always liked that about her. She's into feng shui now."

"Dear God," I grin, shaking my head. Sweet, shrewd, pixie-haired, yoga-obsessed Sophie; I think I've always regarded her as the older sister I always wanted instead of Elizabeth. She was always just such a passionate wildcard, such an eclectic personality that would add color to our bland, beige family.

"Hey," Fred says, finally asking the inevitable, "Why is your father renting out your home in Kellynch?"

Here it is - the embarrassment, brace yourself. Hesitating, wringing my hands, glancing away, I quietly admit that we've slid into debt after quite some time because of my father and sister's frivolous spending habits, resulting in total anarchy - In a few less words, but it still doesn't keep that knowing, twinkling gleam from Fred's Wentworth soulful (or soulless) dark eyes.

"Bummer," he responds cheerfully, his mouth pulled upward into a smirk.

"Thanks for concealing your delight."

"Sorry," Fred grins wryly without seeming apologetic at all. He shrugs his shoulders airily, "I'm just starting to appreciate this whole irony thing a bit more. After all your family's kvetching and moaning about careers and poor futures and all, and now your father himself is in the toilet."

I roll my eyes, "Fred, it's not like it's some secret that you can't stand my family, honestly. Can we just get past that already?"

"Can you blame me?" he asks seriously, and I shift uncomfortably.

"Well, no."

"There's your answer."

And just when I thought things were beginning to smooth themselves over (if at all), that prickle of a grudge is raised from the dust. Before I have time to press it back into place, Louisa has discovered that there's an entire conversation that has been occurring behind her without her knowledge, and she promptly whisks one, Frederick Wentworth back to her side to talk about more pleasant topics.


Author's Note: So, maybe you guys have noticed that there's been some ridiculous fiddling going on with this fic's title -- this one, is even tentative, so be warned that so me more fiddling may occur! Titles are pretty big for me, but I've never had as much trouble as I have with this one! It'll be settled soon, rest assured. Anyway, thanks for reading, please review!