Some honeymoon; me at work, him in Oklahoma City being poked and prodded by Army doctors.

It was still only midday when Two-Bit and I dumped all my stuff at Steve's house. My house. I was tired, but I was also afraid to sit around and start thinking, so I said 'Thanks and goodbye' to Two-Bit, dropped him at the junk store and drove myself to work.

I had to cope with Marian, of course, and her reaction to what we'd done. She acted sore, told me all the plans she'd had for my floral centerpieces and bouquet, what she would have done for me if I'd had a 'real' wedding. I pointed out that no wedding on the North side ran to the kind of displays she was talking up.

She sprang for Chinese food and a bottle of wine for lunch, as a celebration, which made the afternoon go a lot smoother, although maybe not all the bunches we sold late in the day were as neat as they could have been.

I asked about her weddings, while we were eating, since we were talking ideal displays.

"Oh, I never had two cents first time around. We ran away. Eloped. Happiest I ever was in my life."

I was so interested, she'd never told me that much detail. Maybe it was drinking in the daytime, that she got a little carried away.

"You two, you and Steve, you remind of me and Aaron. We was only kids."

I asked her what happened to him.

"He was killed in an accident on the rig. That's why we came to Tulsa, he got a job on the rigs when he came back from Korea. Who knew he was safer over there?" She smiled sadly. "The next one was the pig, I divorced his worthless ass soon as I possibly could. And number three, well, I don't know where number three is. I guess he decided he wasn't cut out for marriage, because he up and went without an explanation." She took a long drink of her wine. "I think, honestly, I got it right first time and some things just can't be replicated."

"But you go out? You date?" I knew she did.

She hesitated, like she thought better of what she was about to say, then she laughed:

"Hell, I like a little dinner and dancing, I'm only human. But I ain't getting stuck again. I done my time."

I played with the last of my food. "How did you stand it? When Aaron was in Korea?"

"I ain't gonna lie, Sweet Pea. It was hard. But you got people around, your friends, me. We'll get you through."

I really wanted to believe her.

xxXxx

Going home to an empty house was weird. I realized that I was probably different from most people, because chances are it happened to them fairly regularly. But if you grow up with a mom who never leaves the house and always has the TV on, there's a certain expectation that your brain has, regarding noise, when you step in the front door.

Maybe I would have to leave the radio on all day.

I looked at the stuff I'd dumped in the entryway. A couple of bags of clothes were easy to hang up – Steve's closet wasn't exactly bulging with gear. I put my make up on the dresser. Most of my bathroom stuff ended up balanced on the edge of the tub; I needed a shelf put up in there.

I jumped right out of my skin when the phone rang.

"Evie, darlin'?"

"You okay? Where are you? Are you okay?" My mouth was working independent of my brain when I heard his voice.

There was a short chuckle. "Gimme a chance to get a word in, babe. I'm at Fort Sill. 1-A all the way."

I hadn't realized I'd still been clinging to one last shred of hope until it was torn away by those words.

"I gotta go, babe. This was just to let you know I'm here and Basic starts in the morning..."

"No. Don't. What are you –"

"Evie, darlin', there's a line a mile long for the phone. I gotta go. I'mma write you the address here, okay?"

"Steve! I love you."

"Yeah, me too, babe."

The line went dead.

xxXxx

I lasted a week, knocking over shampoo bottles and stuff every time I turned around, before I asked for help, putting up a set of shelves in the bathroom. Spilling the talc I'd bought expressly because it was advertised by Twiggy was the final straw.

Darry seemed to think it was a useful learning exercise for Soda, but as far as I could see he was more of a hindrance than a help. It was the first time Soda had been by the house that week, for a start, and he was nervy, his eyes flicking around like he expected Steve to be around every corner.

I knew how he felt.

So far, I'd had visits from Jo, who brought me a set of groovy pillows for the couch as a wedding present, Sarah – who brought a casserole, like I was ill or something – and Marian, who brought wine.

Two-Bit had managed to drop by twice, right at dinner time, although the second time he brought take-out burgers, so I couldn't complain.

And every time someone left, the house grew around me, empty and echoing, no matter how loud I played Steve's favorite records.

"Evie, you got mail!" Soda yelled, on his way back from the truck with whatever Darry had sent him for. Darry was perfectly well prepared, he'd just wanted Soda to stop asking smutty questions about 'handling wood' and 'the perfect screw', I think.

I took the parcel from the mailman, wondering what on earth it could be. It was the size of a couple of small pillows, wrapped tight. But the return address stamp was military, 'Administration' at Fort Sill.

I was crying when they found me, sitting on the floor in the entryway, the brown paper hurled away from me in a ball, and Steve's clothes on my lap, as I hugged his leather jacket.

Darry tried to explain that the Army did this, they had to, they couldn't store thousands of guys' gear, that Steve would be in uniform the whole time now. But all I could think was, that they'd taken the last piece of his identity.

xxXxx

I ain't scared of thunderstorms, so that wasn't why I went around putting on the lights. It just got so damn dark so quickly. The knocking on the front door made me jump some, I admit, but that's nothing to be ashamed of; some evenings it got so quiet in that house, I resorted to talking to myself, to break the silence that crept around, stalking me. Longest two weeks of my life, so far.

"Lord, Pony! You look like you been swimming." I yanked the front door wide and let him in. A sorry excuse for a weed was just about holding onto a spark in his lips and he nodded ruefully.

"I know. I shoulda stayed up at Bud's, but I thought I'd get home okay."

"Where?" I asked, in surprise.

He rolled his eyes. "Not you too. Bud Williamson. Jeez, Darry always thinks I said I went to Buck's..." He looked at himself in the mirror in the entryway, flicking water off his hair. I got him a towel and suggested he change out of his t shirt. He protested, but I told him not to be stupid and I put one of Steve's sweatshirts in his hand and then shoved him towards the bathroom.

When he came through to the kitchen a little later, he looked warmer already. I offered him coffee but he asked me shyly if I had cocoa, so that's what I made.

"Sorry, to land on you an' all."

"Shut up. I ain't gonna be the one tells your big brother you got pneumonia because you walked past this house for fear of disturbing me. Did Soda remember to give you that mail that came here?"

He nodded, a huge smile developing. "Steve's step dad sent me a copy of his book. I don't have to use the library one no more." I'd figured it was that. "And, not only that, he sent me an original draft of the best story. So I can see how it changed. It was real interesting, he kept some of the description, but at the end..." Pony trailed off, seemingly embarrassed by his rambling. "Anyway, it was neat. I wrote him thank you."

I tried not to smile at the way he disguised his enthusiasm with careful cool. "Did you eat yet?"

He shook his head.

More thunder rolled around and the rain came down even harder, if that was possible.

I opened the fridge. "You wanna eat here?"

Ponyboy peered over my shoulder. "Are you livin' on eggs?"

"Pretty much. It's hard, when it's just me, to be bothered about cooking much."

He reached for an onion and some other stuff. "Tortilla then."

It was still raining after we ate what was an excellent omelette. I complimented him and he shrugged modestly.

"It ain't as good as Mom made it, but it's better than Soda's. He puts way too much weird stuff in." He looked at the clock. "I oughta get goin'."

I offered to drive him, but he said he would call Darry. I got on with the dishes while he made the call. There was a pause after he said where he was and would Darry come get him.

"I dunno...maybe..." he said, looking over his shoulder at me. He held the phone away from his ear. "Darry says to ask you if you mind me to stay over, what with the storm an' all. He ain't itching to drive up and get me."

I nodded. "No problem."

He relayed that to Darry and they finished up their conversation. I had a sneaking suspicion that Darry had no issue with driving five minutes in the rain, that he was setting Pony to babysit me. I didn't care.

We watched some TV and then I said I was going to make up the bed in Eddie's room.

"I can just sleep on the couch," Pony said quickly.

"We got a perfectly good bedroom, goin' to waste," I sighed. "Unless that would that be weird for you, sleeping in Eddie's room?"

Ponyboy shrugged. "Guess not. If you think it'd be okay with Steve."

I opened the door. The bed needed linen, but I had vacuumed and dusted the room. There was nothing of Eddie's around in it, Steve had taken all his clothes to the goodwill and he wasn't exactly one for knickknacks.

"Steve didn't use this room yet?" Pony asked me, as I pulled sheets out of the dresser drawer and threw them on the mattress. I remembered when I first knew the Curtis boys, it was less than a year after their folks went and they weren't using their parents' room at all. They did now. Three rooms, three guys, it just made sense, once some of the hurt faded, I guess.

I thought about it, in terms of Steve and Eddie. It didn't seem quite the same to me. Not that anyone could measure love, I didn't think. Not that I necessarily believed that it hurt the Curtis boys more to think about their folks, than it did for Steve to think about Eddie being gone. I just suspected that a lot of Steve's reluctance was down to growing up with Eddie's 'rules'. He hadn't been allowed in this room when he was a kid and old habits die hard.

But if we were talking 'hurt', I was having a hard time being in Steve's room on my own. Every time I woke up in his bed, I reached for him. Every time I opened my eyes and he wasn't there, it was a crushing blow.

I remembered once, when we'd been playing make believe and talking about what we would do to the house if it was ours. I'd countered some suggestion that Steve made with the comment: 'If this was our house, we'd have the big room.'

I looked around, thoughtfully.

xxXxx

When my alarm went off, I sat bolt upright. I hadn't slept that late in a while. I hadn't slept that well in a while. I was mad with myself for that, really.

See, I was all over this women's lib shit. I could do whatever I wanted, live however I wanted. Independent woman. This was my house now, as much as Steve's and – thinking back only a little while – this was definitely what I'd wanted, to be out from under Sarah's eye and be my own boss.

But, Christ, I was lonely. Every night I wadded up the last t shirt Steve had worn before he left, using it like a comfort blanket, as I lay there staring at his photo on the night stand, unable to sleep.

I was also more of a wuss than I liked to admit, convincing myself that the creaks and noises were burglars and murderers surrounding the place. Well, maybe not for real, I still had some grip on sanity, but there was no denying I'd slept a hell of a lot better, knowing Ponyboy was in the next room.

And hearing someone else in the kitchen as I got up was plenty cheerful too.

I made breakfast and offered Pony a lift to school. We had to stop for his books, but since it was raining again –although nothing like as hard – he accepted the ride happily.

"Anyone else we oughta be stopping for?" I was angling for information on his love life and he knew it. He rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the side window. "What happened to Carrie?" I asked, 'Carrie' being the girl he'd brought along a few times when the gang got together. She was small and had short hair, a fact that Two-Bit had razzed me about. I told him not to be stupid. Plenty of girls had a Twiggy do.

"She had to move. To Ohio." Pony glanced at me quickly, his cheeks reddening slightly. "To live with her aunt...her brother that she lived with, got arrested...It ain't like when..."

"Nah, I didn't imagine it would be. I'm sorry, I liked her. I think she liked you."

He shrugged, picking at the zipper on his jacket. "I dunno. Darry said we was too young to know."

"Darry don't know everything." I winked at him as I uttered this blasphemy. "Just 'cause he was late gettin' roped..." Pony laughed at me. Lynette was kind of a bossy one.

"Well, there's this other chick I think is kind of cute. But she's dating this kid I know, Bryon. So, y'know, that's not going anywhere."

"Bryon? Wasn't he the one got you mixed up in that fight at the dance that time?" I pulled over in front of the school. It looked so different to me now. Smaller.

Pony shook his head. "Nah, that wasn't his fault. He's okay. Thanks for the lift, Evie." I told him no problem and watched as he shot away, to get out the rain.

A/N: Yes, I know, Evie didn't get it quite right about the fight at the dance (That Was Then, This Is Now) - she's not really going to know the details of Pony's social life. But it does let you know a little of the timescale I have going. (Extra points to anyone who noticed that when Angela showed up recently, she still had her long hair, but she was married...)