Author's Note: Not much to say here, so -

Happy reading :)

XXXXX

"When does he get in?"

"This afternoon."

"Yikes."

I wasn't sure I should be riding when I was with child or whatever, but we weren't really riding – just sorta…strolling around on horses. Me and Annette and Francine, just doing what we always did, trying to feel like things were even the least bit normal. It was a really beautiful day, anyways, with the sun out and shining down on us, making it feel as though it was warmer than it really was, and the trees around Soda's property were all red and orange and yellow. It was a perfect fall day. If it stayed this way through Saturday, it was perfect wedding weather. I didn't dwell on that.

Dad was hanging out at the fence with Steve and Soda, the three of them bystanders to our conversation, too far away to hear but not so far away they couldn't see us. They weren't even trying to hide that they were looking at us, which definitely meant they were talking about us, or me and my predicament.

"You're clear on the plan for tonight, right?" Annie asked me, and I nodded. "Since you're knocked up, you know what that means."

"Nothing wrong with being the designated," I grinned. "At least one of us will be maintaining some dignity tonight."

I wasn't the only one – the other designated for Melissa's bachelorette party was Lisa, so in a strange twist of events, all three of us Mathews' kids would be going without tonight. Usually I liked to have a few, loosen up, but that wasn't an option right now. I was sort of okay with that. Actually, I was very okay with that. James and Lee be damned – this baby was mine, mine, that much was clear, and I wanted to protect it.

"Besides, I know how you country girls get," I went on. "You like to walk around acting all innocent, very clay-of-the-earth, but I know the truth. You put your hair up in those ho braids and tip cows over or whatever the hell is you do out here in the middle of nowhere when you're drunk and looking for fun."

"'Least we're not a bunch of gun-totin' Republicans," Fran grinned, and I tipped my head – touché. "Say, think your boyfriend can hook us up with some Al Gore swag?"

"I think your dad's already being risky enough with the yard sign."

"It was my doin' anyways. Daddy pretty much votes for whoever Uncle Pony votes for."

I could not wait for the rest of my life to be spent talking about politics. Could. Not. Wait. Because god knows James seemed to think of nothing else. I was about done with it right now, too, ready to shoot my head off thinking about Al Gore and George Bush and having to vote on top of everything else. I mean, really. Of all the things I already had on my plate, I also had to worry about carrying out my civic duty. Just one more goddamn thing. It's always just one more goddamn thing.

Just then, Soda yelled at us to bring the horses in, so we steered them back towards the barn. "Fran, you take care of Mary's. Thanks, sug."

"How you feelin'?" Dad asked me as I slid off Night Rider. Soda's horses always had the best names. I shrugged, running a hand through my wind-swept hair. I knew I smelled like horse, and wanted – nay, needed - a shower.

"Fine," I breathed. "God, Dad, not like I was up there six months and huge."

"I know," he sighed. Dad watched me carefully from his spot on the fence, leaned up against it with his arms crossed. I didn't like that look on his face, the unsure, worried one. He didn't whip that one out just for nothin'. "You still goin' tonight?"

I nodded. "'Course. It's the right thing to do."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve nudged him and smiled that smile that said they were up to something, and Dad smirked. "When's that boy of yers get in? Four-ish?" I nodded. "Perfect. He's gon' get to know us tonight."

I blanched. "The hell does that mean?"

Steve laughed. "Means that if he's gonna try and worm his way into this family, then that means he has to go through a bit of, uh…oh, what's the phrase I'm lookin' for…."

"Interview process," Soda supplied, smile a mile wide. "Don't worry, Mary honey, Jaq and Evie put Melissa through the same thing, but I don't think she caught on to that bein' what it was. I think she just thought they were bein' nice."

"James won't get the same impression," Dad winked. "He'll know what it is."

I rolled my eyes. "You're all terrible. You know that?"

"Hell yeah, we do!" Soda yelled, and they all started hollering, and me and Annie and Francine all just looked at each other and shook our heads.

xXx

"What's that?"

Lisa grinned conspiratorially at me from her spot on the floor. She was surrounded by little clippings and photos – what looked to be some of our mother's memorabilia. Mom's room wasn't all that different from what it was back when she lived here, and she'd left some stuff behind from her high school days. Lisa and I had seen little bits and pieces of it over the years, but most of Mom's stuff was back home in New York, so we really felt no need to go digging here, figuring we wouldn't find much. I guess Lisa had, though.

"C'mere – I jimmied the lock on this drawer in the desk. It's full of this stuff." I sat down beside Lisa as she eagerly read to me from an old newspaper clipping written by a Mrs. Janine Johnston. "'…the biggest buzz of the night surrounds our newly crowned queen! Miss Stevens, who came to the dance with her friends – 'stag', is what the kids call it – is the first young lady to be crowned without a date! But after the dance, Miss Stevens was seen – tiara and all – gallivanting around town with one Two-Bit Mathews, Steven Randle, and Evelyn Martin, the latter two of whom are a known couple. Miss Stevens and Mr. Mathews have also become something of a known commodity, so the question arises: Why, then, was Miss Stevens dateless? Alas, this reporter has no answer to THAT particular question.'"

We both cracked up. Lisa let me get a look at the rest of the article, dated from May of 1968 under the Society section. I guess it was about senior prom night. I saw Cherry Valance, Randy Adderson, and Vickie Harper's names in there – I guess Vickie had married that George Washburn guy. I swallowed and pushed thoughts of Vickie and aborted babies to the back of my mind. "This is amazing," I laughed, and Lisa nodded her head with enthusiasm.

"There's more where that came from." She pulled the drawer open wider and started rooting around. "I have no idea why she locked all this up – it's great. Here, here's a playbill from the year she was in Oklahoma! Ooh! – Letters addressed to Paul McCartney! Oh, I can't believe this!"

Along with the playbill and the letters to Macca, there was another playbill for a production of Anything Goes, an invitation to someone named Penny's birthday party, a Black Panther Party pin, a few pictures from various school dances, a swatch of tie-dye, a dainty-looking class ring, a few very expired condoms, a booklet of Beatles postcards, an old patch for a DX gas station, a copy of class schedules from her junior and senior years at Will Rogers High School, some pink paint swatches in various shades, old dress and blouse patterns, an essay on Their Eyes Were Watching God, a flyer for a cotillion ball of sorts, a few tickets to high school football games, a few tickets to high school baseball games from Dad's senior season, corny but cute valentine's cards from Cherry and Marcia and Missy, a somewhat-depleted coupon book for a long-gone department store, a handwritten copy of the lyrics to "Queen Jane Approximately", a postcard with an Andy Warhol cat print on it, a postcard with the Golden Gate Bridge on it dated July 1967, a friendship bracelet, a blue ribbon for a little tennis tournament at the country club in the doubles competition, a blue ribbon for the high school talent show, a red ribbon for the state fair baking competition, a little booklet filled with pressed flowers, a big yellow 'W' that she probably earned from cheerleading to match Daddy's baseball letter, a map of Vietnam, an article about the end of a serial murder case, a Deadhead bear patch, sheet music for the song "Many a New Day", sheet music for a piano arrangement of "Moon River", a dance card with names of boys I'd never heard of, a few more clippings of articles from that society section of the paper about Mom and her Yenta friends, a Bobby Kennedy campaign pin, movie stubs for The Great Race and Meet Me in St. Louis and The Graduate and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, a torn-off slip of paper that read: "Bee Stevens & Vickie Harper know each other. Here's to hoping Vickie won't tell that big mouth about what happened – god knows she'd spill the whole damn thing", and finally, a note that read: "Meet me out by the football field after school lets out. I'll keep myself outta trouble so you don't have to wait on me. – Two-Bit"

It was a lot. It was our mother's entire time in Tulsa, is what it felt like.

"Wow," I breathed.

"I know," Lisa chuckled. "You ever forget that Mom and Daddy are, like, people? That they used to have lives and do stuff and all that?"

"Maybe," I shrugged. "I dunno, I sorta feel like Mom never stopped doing stuff. Like, maybe she didn't really work anymore after a while, but she didn't just stop. And Dad, he's always worked."

"Yeah, but I'm not just talking about work and all the social groups. They used to just be people, like, normal people."

"You're not making sense. They're still normal people. They're just…old now."

Lisa sighed; clearly her point was lost on me, or she was just having trouble communicating it. "You don't think we're, like, invading her privacy, do you?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "It's neat stuff, though – I don't see why she locked it up."

"Well, probably didn't want Grandpa finding those condoms." And we both laughed again. Then she continued more gently, "There are just pieces of them everywhere. Like, one day your kid's gonna find little things about you and laugh about them. I dunno. I guess that's kinda what I'm trying to say – they were people then just like they're people now, but now they're different people."

"Yeah," I whispered. "I guess they are. Do you think they miss who they were?"

Lisa sighed and considered the ribbons and the notes and the pictures of our mother, young and baby-faced and smiling, untouched by age and motherhood, surrounded by friends and swathed in fashionably modest dresses of pastel fabric and tulle. I knew that Lisa was comparing that girl in the pictures to the fifty-year-old woman who was our mother, still beautiful, still smiling, but with crow's feet and wider hips. Her hair still seemed to have a mind of its own, no matter what year it was.

I wondered if all of this was going to happen to me.

I wondered who I would become once this baby got here.

I wondered if the Mary I was now would just become lost to time, just like Bridget Stevens had.

"I would," Lisa said with a nod of the head. "And in another twenty years, I'm sure they'll miss who they are now. Adults are always complaining about not being young anymore – who's to say she won't think fifty's young when she's seventy?"

xXx

"Be nice, Dad, please."

"I am bein' nice! This is about as nice as I'm gonna get, far as this boy is concerned."

I'm not even quite sure why he had insisted on coming, but the cross-armed, puffed-chest, defiant stance certainly didn't look nice, but I don't think James noticed right away because he was looking down at his pager or phone or something, and Dad's ire was initially lost to him. I was starting to think James might just run into us because it didn't look as if he'd ever look up, but as if he knew I was there, his head shot up and he smiled.

"Mary, hey," he greeted, and he kissed my cheek.

James and I made quite the pair. He was tall, almost always in a suit or a button-down and jeans, with slicked-back auburn hair and blue eyes to die for. Say what you want about him, but his eyes were gorgeous. And I was starting to think maybe I had a thing for guys with blue eyes, but that's neither here nor there. Dad cleared his throat, and I looked up at him and his expectant expression, eyebrow raised and awaiting an introduction.

"Dad, this is James Williams," I introduced. "James, this is my father, Two – uh, Keith Mathews."

James smiled at my father and they shook hands. Dad and his buddies judged other men's character based on three things: what they drank, if they played cards, and if they had a good handshake. There were other, lesser tests, but these were the Big Three. I couldn't quite tell from Dad's expression if James had passed this first test, but I knew he wasn't much of a cards player, and I wasn't quite sure if his preferred drink would impress them. Guess we'd find out after tonight. Maybe two out of three wasn't bad, but I knew James would have to have more going for him than a good handshake to earn my father's respect.

"Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Mathews."

"Likewise," Dad drawled. "Nice of you to come down. No better place to meet the family than a wedding."

James laughed. He really had no idea what he was in for.

xXx

"I was getting some serious Deliverance vibes from some of those people at the airport. Hillbillies know about air travel?"

I rolled my eyes; James was sure from Massachusetts. "Buddy, you're in Oklahoma. Two things: one – this is cowboy country, and it's not the deep south, even if it is a red state. Two – and this one's important – you're in Tulsa, which is, ya know, a major metropolitan area. So just because you've never seen a man wear a cowboy hat out in public doesn't mean they're completely uncultured."

James smiled at me as he loosened his tie. "Your father got a cowboy hat?"

"More than one," I informed him. "Boots and bolo ties to match. He's an Okie through and through – and if you're not careful, he'll trick you into eating bull testicles. Watch your ass tonight."

James was staying in a nearby hotel, the Ambassador, insisting he didn't want to impose on my grandparents, especially since he didn't even know any of my family. I'd stepped foot in the Ambassador maybe once in the entire time my family had been coming down here, and it definitely lived up to its reputation. You could see the Arkansas River from the window, and if I used my imagination, I could imagine Tulsa was the same metropolis that New York was, just the southwest version, and when the sun would go down, the lights would dance on the water and the sun sinking low on the horizon would make for a beautiful sunset. We'd only come here so James could checked in and changed, Dad leaving us with strict orders to get back to the house by six-thirty so I could head to Melissa's bachelorette party with Lisa and Dad and his buddies could start in on their torture.

I also wanted to break the news before we went back. Mom and Dad thought I might as well tell him sooner rather than later. Probably a smart idea.

"What's he do again?"

"He owns a bar. That's what he's always done. Well, when he got back from Vietnam, he did a bunch of odd jobs, but that's what he's been doing for as long as I can remember."

"My parents said they saw your mom in a show once, in a production of The Music Man. Said she was absolutely wonderful."

I was five when she did that. I remember going to see her, remember sitting very quietly in my seat next to my father and just soaking in everything, marveling at her, and I remember thinking all those years ago that my mother had to be the coolest mom on the planet. To this day, I maintain that she's a better Marian that Barbara Cook and Shirley Jones combined, but that's just my opinion. "Small world," I smiled.

"I'm excited to meet her," he went on. "Kinda embarrassed to say I did a quick web search of her – she's pretty accomplished, I don't get why people don't talk about her more."

"She hasn't done anything in a while," I shrugged. "She did more shows when we were younger. It got harder for her after she had Lisa."

"I'm excited to meet your siblings, too. I can't wait for our families to meet, actually. It's funny, cuz I can tell our mothers would get along great, but I have no idea what my dad's gonna make of your dad. Keith Mathews sure is something, and I've only known him an hour." Understatement. He'd talked our ears off on the drive over here, and James had patiently listened as he went on about everything from baseball to Bob Dylan to landmarks around Tulsa. "His buddies sound like a wild time."

"Yeah," I sighed. "James. James, honey, I need to tell ya something."

He stopped buttoning his shirt. I looked at him, really looked at him; he was gorgeous, for sure. I really could get lost in those eyes. He was tall and sweet-looking, and looked nothing like a lawyer; those eyes were too kind. I didn't like how he was talking about my father, how he'd already painted him as the outcast, or how he'd talked about this place that was like a second home to me. James knew nothing but Washington DC and Massachusetts and east coast politics and living as the son of a senator. He didn't swing wildly between two worlds, and I doubted he'd ever loved someone who lived hundreds of miles away.

"What's up?"

"Sit down." He sat down. "The reason I called you – it wasn't to make you come down here, even if it's great you came."

"Then why?"

I grabbed his hand and bit my lip, looking down at my stomach and sighing. His eyes widened; somehow, that said it all.

"How…?"

"How do you think?"

He sighed. "Is this a bad thing?" James asked. "Is this something we need to…take care of?"

"I'm not getting rid of it, if that's what you're asking." I almost said something about being Catholic, but that didn't feel right, even though a big part of the reason I'd decided to keep it was because I thought of the Virgin Lady, and somewhere in the back of my mind, she'd whispered and told me that I needed to see this through. I trusted Her. "But there's more to this. I need you to know something else."

"There's more?" He asked, astounded, and I nodded.

"There's something you need to know about Lee Curtis," I told him.

xXx

I told him.

I told him that I'd loved Lee Curtis for as long as I could remember. I told him how heartbroken I'd been when I'd learned he was getting married. I told him I was confused and caught up, and this was complicating things.

"I still feel like I'm just getting to know you," I admitted softly. "You're a great guy, but I don't know yet if I can marry you, not when the only thing I'm sure of these days is the confusion."

James stared at me. "Well, now I'm confused – are you breaking up with me, even though you're having my baby?"

I blinked. "Are we even together? We've been dating around, sure, and clearly we've…" I couldn't say sex for whatever reason right now, but that's what I was getting at. "The timing's just all wrong. I know all of this sounds bad, but I'm telling you this because Lee is never going to be mine, but I'm hoping that one day I can get over him. It's just that I don't know what we're supposed to do now. I'm not giving up this kid, but I don't know where I stand with you. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," he breathed. "I…I guess, Mary. But. But, uh. You know this doesn't look great, right? For me or my dad, if anyone finds out. They'll think my old man raised up a womanizer who knocks up a girl and then leaves her to clean up the mess."

"So…what do we do?" I asked miserably. James shrugged.

"Lie?" I furrowed my brow. "I mean…I like you, Mary. A lot. And I think you like me – maybe not as much as you like Lee Curtis, but at least a little bit. So maybe we don't know if we love each other yet or not, maybe you don't know if you ever could love me, but…this is our kid. We didn't mean for this to happen, no, but it did, and we owe it to this kid to try. So, I guess we just fake it 'til we make it."

"You're saying we should get married anyway," I said quietly, realization dawning on me. "You just…you want to just get married and see where it all goes? That's crazy."

"I don't see what else we're supposed to do. You do get I've got a lot at stake here, right? My brothers and I have been looking out for our dad our whole lives. We can't fuck up. Local politics is a bitch, and this is just the sort of thing that would make people think he's no better than white trash, and they don't want to send white trash to Capitol Hill. Ya know?"

I sighed through my nose. Reputation, I was learning, from him and my mother, must be the most important thing. You never get a second chance at a first impression, so you'd better not fuck it up, even years after the fact. "I know," I ground out, trying to stay calm. "I think we need to think about this a little more. Okay?"

James ran a hand down his face. "Yeah, okay."

"And in the meantime, I'm gonna go to Horse Girl's bachelorette party, and you're going to find out just how wild my dad and his buddies are."

We stood up. Nothing felt solved, but at least he knew. At least he knew, because everybody else sure did. James could certainly appreciate my ability to leak news. "Okay," he sighed. "Then that's what we'll do."

xXx

The next morning, Mom wanted to know all the details. She was always pressing me and Lisa for gossip, and Lisa was the one eager to give this morning. It had been a pretty typical bachelorette party, hopping around from bar to bar while Melissa wore a little veil on her head and a white lace dress, a pre-wedding get-up, and all her friends got absolutely trashed while Lisa, Annette, Fran, Martha, Joan, and I watched on at their little clique. They had no idea, just absolutely no idea, what was going on behind the scenes, not even Melissa, which I felt a little bad about, but what do you want me to say? I'm in love with her fiancé. Probably.

"One of her friends would just not. Stop. Throwing up," Lisa laughed. "Annie stuck with her for ten minutes and then just gave up."

"Well, she's not known for her bedside manner, is she?" Mom asked, taking a sip of her coffee. Dallas snorted softly, then went back to glumly resting his head in his hand. Something had happened last night at Lee's bachelor party, but he wasn't talking about it. Mom had quit trying to pry it out of him.

xXx

"Mary?"

I opened up the bedroom door and saw Mom and Dad on the other side, and I sighed, getting ready for…whatever the hell it was they were about to throw my way. "Yes?"

"Is James coming tonight?" I shook my head.

"He can't. He has to do some distance work on the case he's on. He'll be at the wedding, though. How was your night with him, Dad?"

Dad rolled his eyes. He was half-ready for the rehearsal dinner, while Mom was exactly zero percent ready, but that wasn't unusual – Mom was almost always making us late. I myself was just putting the finishing touches on, getting my earrings in, and I turned and let Mom fasten my necklace. "Guy can't play a decent hand of cards to save his life." I smirked. "How the hell do ya get through life like that?"

"Keith. The reason we're here."

"Oh – right." Dad sighed. "Lee came by earlier."

My eyes widened. "He did?" I choked out. "Wha…why?"

"Came to see you," he said. "Says he knows how to 'make things right', whatever that means."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I shrieked. "He wanted to see me, why didn't you let him?"

"Honey, it would just confuse things," my mother sighed. "He was…hungover and just emotional about god knows what, everything, and…well, he needs to learn from his mistakes," she said defiantly. "He's the one missing out on a good thing. He made his bed, he lies in it." My mouth quivered like it wanted to smile, and I was glad to hear my mother say that, but I was still pissed they hadn't let him see me.

"He also came by pretty early, and from what I remember, you spent the better part of the morning with your head hanging in the toilet, so…"

My stomach lurched at the reminder of my morning sickness, and I scowled and slammed the door in their faces. Dad tried to yell through the door – "I thought you wouldn't want any visitors!" – and Lisa just laughed at my plight as she put on her shoes.

xXx

"Do you still hate me?"

Different night, different year, different time and space. Different dock, too. Same Tulsa. Mom and Dad and all their friends and my grandparents all said it had changed over the years, but I wasn't here often enough to really tell. It was just where my dad was from. That's all it was. I looked at him, confused. "Still?" I repeated. "When did I hate you?"

Dad came to stand beside me, shoulder-to-shoulder, and shrugged. "Long time ago, when you were a kid. I told you not to see Lee, and you said you hated me."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I remember that. But I don't remember telling you I hated you. So, to answer your question – no. I don't hate you."

"Really? Not even now, when he's about to marry some other girl?"

I leaned her hip on the rail and looked out at the docked boats, bobbing up and down. This country club atmosphere was certainly a step up for Darry. For all of us - that was for damn sure. Dad almost looked a bit out of place, with his long greying hair and scruff, still a hippie. Mom always fit right into these sorts of places. She made sure Lisa and I did, too. I wondered if people looked at me in this setting and thought I looked like I belonged here. I'm not sure I felt like I did. I felt like some sort of tramp as of late, no matter what anyone else says. "Well, I mean, he was all the way out here, and I was all the way out there…it was bound to happen."

"You told me the two of you had known – were positive, for a long time – that you loved each other."

"We do."

"Yeah, but not like this. Not like he's just family."

I glanced at him. "What are you getting at? Dad, you were right to stop me. It never would have worked," I said, mumbling the last part. Daddy smirked.

"Say that again – that part about me being right."

I snorted. "Shut up," I laughed.

"No way! 'Cording to you, kid, I'm right only once in a blue moon." He glanced up at the sky. "Speakin' of the moon…"

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked plainly, looking up at it with him. "Now that's a moon."

"Harvest," Daddy added, nodding. "Pullin' out all the stops, dahlin'."

I edged closer to him, both of us resting our forearms on the railing and staring up. "Daddy?"

Dad raised an eyebrow and looked down at me. "'Daddy'?" He repeated.

I ignored him. "What do you think of James?"

Dad sighed, didn't say anything for a minute as he tried to work out what to say. "Whatta I think? He ain't no Lee Curtis, that's what I think."

I shook my head. "Unbelievable."

"I know I am."

"That wasn't a compliment." I paused. "I was too late."

"Too late for what?"

I knew I was starting to get a little weepy, but I held back. Damn these hormones. "To...to…you know."

"I do," he said, and he did. "I'm sorry, Mary. I'm sorry all of this is happenin' to you. I wish I knew how to make it better. I wish to God I did."

Wasn't that just everything? Hearing him say that meant a lot, no matter if it meant that nothing would happen. Just the thought that he would do something if he could – that was something. That was really something. He kissed the side of my head and squeezed my shoulders, and wrongly thinking that I wanted to be alone, started to head back for the country club, and when I looked up, I could see Mom lingering on the porch with Dallas and Lisa, and suddenly my throat felt even tighter. The four of them – no matter how we fought, no matter how annoying Dad and Dally were, no matter how young Lisa sometimes seemed, no matter how uptight Mom could be, I knew I had them. I knew I had them, I knew that. Had it ever really been a question?

"Dad?"

Dad stopped. He always did. He never walked away. Just always, always there.

"Yeah, kid."

"You wanna go for a walk? I…I don't wanna go back in."

It became clear that Mom had been watching us because when Dad stopped, when I said his name, she stopped trying to hide it. She stared down at us with her arms crossed, and she had stopped talking to my siblings. "Sure, honey," Dad grinned, and he backtracked to me and grabbed my hand when Mom called,

"Mind if we tag along?"

Dad looked at me for the OK, and I nodded. "Sure thing!"

Mom could surprise you sometimes. Dad was always the fun parent growing up, the one who would take us to movies on a school night and order pizza when Mom wasn't home and wasn't afraid to leave out the dirty details in all of his stories; who would come home with kittens that had been born in the back alley. But Mom – for as steady as she was, for all her propriety, was the one who would do the funny strip-teases with the other moms and have us all pealing with laughter; the one who would turn on the radio while she was in the kitchen and grab your hands and sing and dance with you – really belt it out like she knew she was damn good at it, and she was. She and Dad were a balancing act, both of them good cop and bad cop, a fearsome duo in Trivial Pursuit, and when apart almost didn't seem like themselves without the other.

Oh, god, how I wished I could have with James what they have with each other. And we're at the rehearsal dinner for the one guy I do have that with.

"Lisa, where are yer shoes?" Dad asked, looking down at my sister's feet as the five of us made our way around the perimeter, Dad still holding my hand.

"Checked 'em. They were hurtin' my feet like crazy."

Dallas looked down at her feet in disgust. "Yeah, but, that means the rest of gotta see those blister-covered things. Are yer feet ever not bleeding?"

"Nup."

"You're missing a good party," Mom told me and Dad.

"So're you," Dad shot back. "'Least ya are now. 'Sides, all the important stuff is over. We'll say bye later."

I didn't want to say goodbye. I didn't want today to end. Didn't want it to become tomorrow.

"These things are always so boring," Dad continued, loosening his tie. "'Member ours?"

"It wasn't boring," Mom insisted. "It was very nice. I still can't believe they let us get married in a church, what with this one tagging along," and she playfully nudged my side. I had to smile a little. "Your mother would have had a cow if we hadn't, anyway."

"Your anniversary sure wasn't boring," Dallas grinned. Mom and Dad had just celebrated twenty-five years back in June. "I don't think I've ever seen that many drunk people over forty-five before."

"I wasn't drunk – "

"Yes, you were," Dad chuckled. "You totally were. You have to be in order for Evie to talk you into doing that act – "

"Alright, that's enough," Mom huffed, but she was trying not to laugh, too. Mom didn't have to get drunk to get up to any shenanigans with the rest of the moms. When Mom got drunk, she'd drape herself across the piano like some sort of floozy and sing all of "La Vie En Rose" in a sultry, smoky voice, or stand up there and sing the opening number to Bye-Bye Birdie in a dead-on impression of Ann-Margret, and then be completely unable to do either when she was sober. It was her drunk superpower, and a hit at parties. See? Mom can loosen up. But she doesn't get drunk that often, so it's a rarity she does either of those numbers.

"We had a nice wedding," Mom went on, insisting. "Nicer than any rehearsal dinner or wedding I've ever been to. It was a pretty day, and everybody was happy, and we were happy. Your sister brought me sunflowers, remember that? I remember feeling so heavy and sick, even though when I see myself in pictures I don't look half as big as I remember, and I suddenly decided I hated my bouquet, and your sister went out and found those for me."

"I didn't know that part," Dad said. "I thought the sunflowers were Plan A."

"Plan B," she confirmed. The three of us walked beside our parents in the moonlight, just listening to them talk. Parents are annoying and all, but our parents were always so in-synch with each other, getting lost in their own little world, and they were fun to listen to when they reminisced, which is often – maybe that's common with older loves. "And just like that, everything fell into place, and I was ready to face you."

"Good thing, too," Dad nodded. "I wasn't in the mood to get jilted that day. I'd'a never heard the end of it from the guys if you had, either."

"I suppose it was very considerate of me to marry you, wasn't it?"

Dallas huffed a laugh and shook his head. "Sounds like a nice time. Wish I coulda been there."

"Nah," Dad sneered. "Weddings are just big shows. Ya get up there just to tell everybody somethin' they already know. They're expensive as hell, and stressful as hell, and – "

"And very nice," Mom finished, but I don't think that was what Dad was going for. "There's flowers and dancing and people coming together in the name of true love."

"Oh, gross," Dallas sneered. We'd circled back around. The five of stood at the base of the club patio staircase, not making a move to head back up to the party just yet. I held tighter to Dad's hand, and he kept on holding mine even though I was probably cutting off his circulation, which was nice of him to do.

"We ready for tomorrow?" Dallas asked us all.

The five of us made eye contact with each other in turn, and Lisa nudged me because the question was probably directed mostly at me, which – fair. I took a deep breath, and really thought about it. Weddings were stressful and expensive; they had flowers and dancing. They were all about true love; they were about getting up there and telling the whole world something they already know, that you love the other person up there with you. What was the punishment for that being a lie? It had to be more than divorce. There had to be more, a punishment to fit the crime about lying to the universe about who your true love was. If that's the case, looks like Lee and I have even more bullshit to look forward to.

We all make mistakes. We all make choices, too. And if I really love him, I had to respect this one.

"Yeah," I whispered. "We're ready."

xXx

I've done some stupid things. I mean really stupid things. Stupid, teenage-level dangerous. The things you do when you think you're invincible, immortal. And what I did that night was stupid. It was one of the stupidest things I've ever done in my little life.

The night before Lee Curtis got married, I snuck out with him.

It may have been stupid, but I can't say it didn't feel right.

After the rehearsal dinner, I'd done the polite, familial thing and hugged him like he was my lame cousin or something, trying to pretend like all of this was okay because I guess it had to be, and Lee slipped a note into my dress (It has pockets!) and winked at me. Then when I got back to my grandparents' house, I went into the bedroom I was sharing with my sister, my mother's old bedroom, and read it.

"What's that?" Lisa asked. She was brushing her hair. I envied her hair – wavy and strawberry blonde. She looked like our aunt, Dad's little sister. My hair was black and kinky, and people often marveled that Lisa and I were sisters. We sometimes did, too.

"A note," I said, sounding dumbfounded.

It said that he wanted to meet with me.

Tonight.

Like we were in some crazy rom-com.

My heart fluttered in my chest. It jumped up into my throat, and then plummeted into my stomach on repeat. Up and down, up and down, up and down and around. Sioxsie and the Banshees were playing on the radio softly, even though they're the sort of band you're supposed to blast so loud you risk wrecking your speakers. ("All of it was made for you and me…Let's take a ride and see what's mine…" Lisa sang along quietly.)

"Who's it from?" My sister asked.

I swallowed. There was a lump in my throat. "Lee," I squeaked.

I heard Lisa's footsteps coming towards me. She snagged the note out of my hand and held it out of my reach, her eyes quickly scanning the little slip of paper and then widening once she had finished. "Woah," she breathed. "You should go."

"I should?"

"He asked you to, Mary."

Lisa thought it was that simple. Of course, it wasn't, but she helped me sneak out of the house anyways, even though I'd never needed help before. When I found him sitting in the nearby park, looking all lonely on that bench, I remembered something: Easter, at least a decade ago now, I guess. He and I sitting on that porch swing together. His hair wasn't quite so blond now, but his eyes were still that same piercing blue. He looked a lot like his father. I guess that meant he looked like Darrel Curtis, Senior, too. I wouldn't know, exactly. I'd only seen him in pictures, and he wasn't exactly a part of my particular family history.

"Hey," I said, and sat down without him having to even ask.

"Hey," he said back. "Hi, Mary."

"Hi, Lee." I smirked, and he smiled back. He had really straight teeth. I remember having braces at the exact same time as him. I remember sharing a lot of my childhood with him. Since our dads and their friends were inseparable, so were the rest of us. He graduated only a year before I did. We remember when nearly all the other kids were born. We remember that weird void that was left when Uncle Soda's wife left. We have grown up together, and I should be happy for him. I should be, but I'm not.

"Remember the last time we came down here for Easter?" I asked.

"Of course I do," Lee whispered.

"Remember what our dads did?"

He gave a soft snort. "I think we might have the most embarrassing dads on the planet."

"Well, Francine has Uncle Soda."

"Fair enough."

I felt sick with nerves. "Lee, what did you want to meet for?"

I knew that look on his face. In as many ways as he was like Uncle Darry, he was just as unlike him. Darry never came across this soft. "I'm gettin' married tomorrow."

"Right. That's what we all came down here for."

"Yeah. But I ain't gettin' married to you."

I took in a sharp, nearly silent inhale. "Do you…do you want to….? What are you saying?"

I was hoping he was saying that he was going to call the whole thing off, but for some reason, I doubted that. In fact, if he had, I'd be wondering if I was really talking to Lee Curtis at all. Lee looked me right in the eye, and I knew exactly what he was saying. I grabbed his hand with mine and hoped and maybe even prayed for him to say what I still wanted him to. For him to say that he was going to call the whole thing off and come clean, that all of this was just a mistake, that he was going to forget about familial duty and think about himself and think about us, as unlikely as I knew that would be. Instead, he said, "I know a place where we can be alone."

I drew my brow in. "What? Lee, we're alone now."

"No," he laughed a little, "I mean…alone."

And then it really dawned on me. I put my other hand on his cheek, felt him lean into the touch, and rubbed his stubble with the pad of my thumb. Look – I've had sex with plenty of men. I know the signs. I know what's going to happen before it happens. So yes, it was irresponsible and stupid and probably cruel and I'm probably going to Hell, but I looked into his blue, blue eyes and couldn't say no. I kissed him for all I was worth and told him a thousand times yes, yes, yes and let him corral me into his truck so we could drive off and he could show me to the place where we could be well and truly alone. It's funny that I was able to love someone for so long without ever having had sex with them, and when he dropped his pants, I learned exactly what I'd been missin'.

xXx

To think Melissa Macdonald was going to get that all to herself.

xXx

"Tell me about it."

I smiled into the pillow; Lisa was laying next to me, and was now demanding details from my little excursion. Usually, I'd tell her to put a sock in it and let me sleep, but Lisa was the only other person who knew about this, and probably the only other person who should know about this, and by God, did I want to talk about Lee Curtis and his magical dick with somebody.

"Lisa," I breathed, "he's amazing. He's a…a god. How can I ever go back to anyone else after that?"

My virgin sister just giddily grinned; she lived for this shit. "Hell if I know. Oh, Mary," she said sadly. "Sister, sister. I am so sorry."

Lisa flung her arm around me and hugged me, and, surprised, I hugged her back with my free arm and let myself be reassured by my crazy, annoying, beautiful little sister.

XXXXX

AN: There's only two chapters left, but this story's not quite done yet….

Thanks for reading!