Author's Note:

So the last chapter was filled with some shocks for Marigold. :o

Her dad knows about everything, and that's why he's so bitter towards Marigold. He had to raise his wife's child. Not his. He's bitter and filled with disappointments, and too weak to be able to handle it properly. But back in this time, people didn't go around shouting about adultery and infidelity.

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The Soc leaned over at the ticket booth: "Hey babycakes. How about we go on over to my place and get acquainted?"

I clenched my stomach nervously, but coolly as could be, replied: "My name's Marigold, by the way." I rolled my eyes. "How about you go home, and sober up a little bit instead?" I knew how calm and collected I sounded, but I could also hear the thudding of my heart.

The guy let out a giggle and turned away. I closed the glass door and held my coat tighter to me. This job sucked in the winter. I let out a sigh, tightly, and tried to relax my trembling hands. I could hold my own in conversation, but I hated guys that flirted. I was beginning to realize how badly out of character the night at Buck's had been, and how badly the consequences were going to play out.

Lying in bed reminded me of the night with Dallas. Driving reminded me of how quickly Soda and I had become close. And anything with alcohol reminded me of my father.

I was boring. But I swore to myself I'd be an independent woman. I'd vote and I'd wear pants every day, and I'd be a strong woman, living on her own and pay rent to Buck as soon as the baby was born. I'd need to make everything baby-friendly. It didn't even occur to me that I wouldn't keep my child. I didn't need a husband to take care of me and the baby: I had myself, and I had friends now. I had Soda, and I had Buck, and I had Mercedes.

Nobody came for the rest of my shift, and I saw a car come while I locked up the ticket booth. But I saw lights flash behind me, and my stomach sank in dread.

Thankfully, it was only Buck. I climbed in and we listened to Hank Williams play for a while, as he drove to god-knows-where. Certainly not home. He was going to the wrong way

He drove for about five minutes, until we stopped at a place that seemed all but abandoned. It was a quiet street, around a park. He turned off the radio and he looked at me. His hair was curly and he had a long face. His eyes were clear, bright.

"Welluh, listen here now," he began awkwardly, his low voice cracking. He cleared his throat. "You are uh, in a deluhcate situation, obviously," he seemed like he was struggling for words.

"I'm pregnant," I said calmly. I had grown to be comfortable around Buck. He threw wild parties, but the doors were sound-proof, and studying was much easier now, since I had all my books and everything I needed in one place.

"An', uh, it's Dally's, uh," he winced.

I felt brave, elated. "It's Dallas Winston's baby," I prompted.

"I just… shit. I needja to be more, uh, careful wich yerself. Yer a nice kid, and uh, I would like to know if ya plan on stickin' around, because, uh," he seemed shy. "I would like to be wich Dal's baby." I understood. Dallas had been his friend, despite everything. He wanted to have a piece of him, too. "And uh, maybe I'll teacha how to ride. Not rough 'r anythin', but just enough to getcha ona horse widdout fallin' off."

I widened my eyes. "Horse riding? I'd fall off!" the idea was ridiculous. I wasn't clumsy like Mercedes, but I wasn't a master of everything like Sodapop, or athletic like his older brother.

He chuckled, low and deep. "That's why I'll teach ya, kiddo." He smiled at me fondly and I felt fantastic. Buck would become the brotherly figure that Derek wasn't. It was nice to know he cared about me, not just about Dally's future child. "But before we get off topic, I wanna, uh, know something. That uh, Curtis kid, Sodapop, iffen he's yer man, then be careful – don't need Dal's kid 'round anythin' bad."

"Soda's not bad!" I protested. Then what he said hit me. "He aint my man either, Buck, don't worry. He's just been a good friend to me."

He looked skeptical. "You don't hafta lie, kid. I seen the way he looks atcha."

"He's not over his ex girlfriend," I explained, more to myself than him. "He's still in love. What'd he want with a girl pregnant with his dead friend's kid?"

I made light of it: I hadn't even thought of that idea. Soda was my friend: I was his. I was his…

I tried to ignore how true that was. A memory of his lightening grin flashed through my mind, but I waved it away.

Buck raised an eyebrow. "He aint lookin' atcha like yer his friend there, Marigold." He said crisply. "Uh, you ainta broad. Yera real nice gal, and, uh, not unattractive. Ya think Dally'd sleep witcha iffen ya weren't?"

I hadn't thought about it that way. I assumed I looked the way I looked, plain and average. I wasn't strikingly pretty or unattractive, I was simply Marigold. "I guess," I admitted unwillingly.

"Alls I'm sayin is be careful. Ya gotta think 'bout the well bein' of two of ya now. Aint just bout you, uh, Marigold. 'S 'bout ya and the kiddo."

"Don't worry. I'll be showing soon anyway, so it's likely the only guys speaking to me will be you and Sodapop," I replied wryly, smiling at him.

He swore. "Shit. How didja fuck Dally'n be so naïve?"

I was offended. "Dallas was my first kiss, and I'm not naïve."

He sighed, upset. "I'm sorry. Lets getcha back home. I betcha got homework to do or sommfin."

I nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Buck. And thanks for everything. I mean, you've done a lot for me already, and I haven't known you very well very long—"

He shushed me. "Shit, kid," he said with a lopsided grin. "You're doin' just as much fer me as I am fer you. Mebe more."

I was humbled. "What?"

He rolled his eyes. "Did I stutter, kid?"

"No…"

"You're givin' me the gift, of uh, life, kid. Aint nothin' else matters. Cept I wouldn't mind iffen ya named it after me," he was so deadpan I didn't realize he was joking at first. Then I laughed.

"How does Dahlia Winston sound? Dahlia Meryl Winston?" he thought I was joking, but I meant every word.

"Sounds 'bout right. Iffen it's a little man?"

I thought about it. "Patrick Todd Winston," I decided with finality.

He laughed. "Alright, kid. I'll getcha back now."

I smiled out the window as he drove back. The scenery flashed in front of me, and I let myself drift to sleep in the leather seat, thinking about Sodapop Curtis: with his quicksilver smile, his bottomless brown eyes, his laid-back demeanor, and more than anything, the wild zest for life that made him who he was…

When Buck and I stepped into the bar, not only was Tim Shepard there with his boys, drunk as anything, but Sodapop was sitting there, with a 7Up in his hand. "Hey guys!" he grinned, bounding up from his chair. A few other people were there: a girl with white-blonde hair, black eye makeup and a jean jacket smoked by the bar, Steve was mingling with Tim Shepard's gang, and Ash's gang friends were there: Big Red, Jimmy, Case, and the one they called Jackhammer. I wondered what his real name was. I wasn't about to ask, though: he was drunk, and he was enormous.

Soda grinned at me radiantly. "I figured Buck picked ya up when you weren't at work… so I came here with Two-Bit an' Steve, lookit!" he pointed over at the gang. "Big Red and the boys are here again." He shook his head. "I swear, they're all but moved here nowadays. Did you know Ash has a HOUSE in her hometown? From her pa?" he seemed hyper, and I put a hand on his arm to calm him, laughing.

"Settle down there, Sodapop. I think you've had a little too much caffine," I smiled at him, one hand on my slowly ballooning stomach.

"Hey, Case got a job here! Buck's lettin' him bartend here from now on." He exclaimed, babbling on about something. I rolled my eyes at him. "Hey, I figure now you can quit one of your jobs, since you don't need to save money for much!"

I shook my head. "I don't need to quit. I like having jobs. They give me independence."

Soda rolled his eyes. "You work too hard!" he grinned. "I work full time, and that aint nearly as much as your hours."

I looked at him, hard. What way did he look at me that made Buck notice? He was how he always was: laughing, a grin on his face and a glint in his eye. "Why don't you ask him if you can rodeo part time?" I asked him, concentrating on his eyes.

I saw him glance over at Buck, who was tending bar. That's when I saw it. His eyes got brighter when he looked away from me. The color seemed to lighten when he stopped looking at me. I didn't know if it was good or bad.

But before I could analyze anything, the blonde girl strode up, flicking ash from her cigarette at me. "Hey sweetie," she blew smoke in my face, and sidled next to Sodapop. "When're you expecting?" she cooed at me.

I could tell she didn't sincerely know I was actually pregnant. A week ago, I'd have hidden. Hell, a week ago I wouldn't have been here. But just being out of my father's house made me feel liberated: knowing he wasn't my father made it better. So I answered honestly: "I'm three months along."

Her eyes widened for a split second, her nasty remark turned into polite conversation. Sodapop laughed at her, his eyes bright. He honestly thought it was funny. "Hey, Sylvia, how're ya doin'?"

She blew smoke at him. Her teeth were yellowed from cigarettes. "A little lonely since Dally's gone, and Tim and I broke up,"

His smile went blank at the mention of Dally, and he immediately and transparently changed the subject. "Didja dye your hair?"

"Cut it too," she said, narrowing her eyes and curving her spine so her hips stuck out. "D'ya like it?" she purred at him, her low voice seductive.

He stared blankly and brightly as the sun for a second, right into her eyes. "Well, I've always been more of a brunette kinda guy," implying he was interested in me, rather than her.

She looked put out: worse, she looked pissed. She gave me a contemptuous look. "This your little wifey to be?" she sneered.

Two-Bit's voice nearly scared me out of my mind. "Naw, Sylv, this here's liddle MILFy to be. Aint nobody's girl."

She gave me a superior look. Two-Bit slung an arm around my shoulder and leered at her. She snarkily smirked. "Awh, did Daddy leave you?"

I stiffened at the word 'daddy'. Two-Bit felt it. This was the most sober I'd ever seen him. I felt more comfortable with him now than ever before. "No, 'Daddy' left you," I said rudely, and left no doubt as to who the father was.

She cracked me across the face and started screaming names at me. The force was enough to turn my head, and then I stared at her. Glory, that was a prime example of a greaser girl. Steve immediately ran up and wrestled her off me, and Buck kicked her out. I didn't have time to react, it happened so quickly.

Two-Bit howled with laughter. "Shit, kid, before the end of the week, everybody's gonna know that you're Dallas Winston's last girl."

I was immediately in the throes of terror. "Shoot, guys!" I wailed, unable to stop the expletive from pouring out of my mouth. "Before the end of the week, his gang of ex-girlfriends is gonna kill me!"