A/N: This is the last chapter. In case you haven't already figured it out, that part about Ramona auditioning for a Perfect Strangers reboot is an idea my husband plans on pitching to Netflix. And yes, he can see Soni Nicole Bringas as the female version of Larry Appleton.

CHAPTER 4

The sun had already gone down by the time the party was breaking up. Thankfully, the guests had enough common courtesy to stay and help DJ with the cleaning up, and she and Steve made sure to fix to-go plates for anyone who wanted one. With that many people, there were some leftovers, but not enough that they'd be eating the same food for days at a time.

After about half an hour or so, the only ones left in the house were DJ, Steve, Tommy, Fernando, Kimmy and Ramona. The six of them were sitting around the kitchen table, and enjoying a post-party nightcap: coffee for DJ and Steve, raspberry seltzer for the Gibblers, and water for Tommy. Except for the hum of the dishwasher nearby, the kitchen was pretty silent.

"That was a great party, huh?" Steve commented.

"Yeah," Ramona agreed. "Other than embarrassing us kids, it was a lot of fun."

"You want to talk about embarrassment?" Kimmy asked. "Just be glad you weren't at our high school reunion."

"Yeah, but at least your dress stayed on."

"True."

"Did you have a good time, sweetie?" DJ asked Tommy.

"Yeah, it was pretty good. I'm just glad we don't have to stay up all night cleaning."

"I'll drink to that," Steve remarked as he raised his coffee cup in a toast, which got the others to follow suit.

That's when Ramona's cell phone rang from inside her purse, which was hanging on the back of her chair. "That's my agent," she piped up. "He's the only guy I know who insists on having 'All Right' by Christopher Cross as his ringtone."

"Really?" Fernando inquired. "What's wrong with Christopher Cross?"

"Nothing if you like listening to a guy who sings like Kermit the Frog on helium," Ramona answered as she took her phone out of her purse and hit the call button. "Kevin? Yeah, I got a second; what's up?...You're kidding. You're kidding! You're kidding!"

Ramona looked over at the table to see the quizzical faces of the others. "He's kidding," she told them, then went back to her call. "Oh, sweet! When is it? Okay, I'll be on the next flight out! Thanks a million!"

After hanging up, she set her phone down on the island and started murmuring, "Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Oh, boy."

Okay, Dr. Beckett, Kimmy thought as she looked in Ramona's direction.

"I wonder if she's going to offer us any beef jerky," DJ commented.

After Ramona pulled herself together, she turned to them and said, "That was my agent."

"Yeah, we kind of figured that," Steve said. "Especially after you told him he was kidding. So what happened?"

"You might want to sit down for this," she suggested.

"We are sitting down," Fernando pointed out.

"Oh. Right," Ramona remembered, then quickly took her seat. "Okay, here goes. Remember when I told you about that new show that Netflix was putting together? The one called Perfect Strangers?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, it's a reboot of this sitcom that was on TV about a billion years ago, and I just found out that I'm being considered for one of the lead roles."

"Really? That's great!" Steve grinned.

"I'll say," DJ added. "That was one of my favorite shows when I was a kid, and I thought Balki was the cutest guy on the planet. Well, other than Joey McIntyre, that is."

"Anyway," Ramona went on as she folded her hands on the table, "if I get the job, I'd be playing a college graduate who finds out that she has a distant cousin from Latvia. But you see, the thing is, the auditions are this weekend, and—well, they're kind of far away."

"How far?" Fernando asked.

"Chicago."

In that instant, there was dead silence. Even the dishwasher had stopped. Obviously, the rinse cycle was getting ready to start, but still, it was as if it was another person reacting to Ramona's news. It was that surprising.

"Ch—Chicago?" Tommy finally managed to ask.

"Yeah."

"Whoa."

"Yeah."

"That's pretty far."

"Yeah."

"Uh, you can stop saying 'yeah'."

"Oh. Right."

"You already said that, too."

"Look, I'm sorry, guys, but there's a lot going on right now, and apparently, I didn't do a very good job in breaking the news to you," a visibly upset Ramona said as she shot out of her chair and started pacing the room. "I mean, after being in and out of local stage productions and improv comedy troupes for the last eight months, this is the biggest break I've ever had!"

"Whoa, Ramona querida," Fernando interjected as he walked up to his daughter and put both hands on her shoulders. "This is nothing to get upset about. Of course we're happy for you."

"Yeah," Kimmy added. "It's just that—well, we weren't expecting Chicago. After all, you'd be halfway across the country."

"I know, Mom, but I'm still going to be back on holidays and during the summer," Ramona assured her. "And let's not forget how much we both use Skype. Believe me, we will not lose contact."

Kimmy thought for a minute. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she decided.

"Oh, and one other thing: I told my agent I'd be on the next flight out, and according to the airport's schedule, it leaves at 5:30 tomorrow morning."

As soon as Tommy heard those words, his chest felt like a punctured air mattress. He knew exactly what Ramona was saying, but he just couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.

Then Ramona saw the stricken look on his face. "Oh, Tommy, I'm sorry, kid," she said regretfully. "I really wanted to see you and Pamela graduate, but this just happened out of nowhere."

"It's okay," he mumbled, forcing himself not to cry as a very subtle tear managed to escape from his eye.

"Come here," Ramona soothed, and she pulled him into a sisterly hug. Not surprisingly, her parents followed suit, as did DJ and Steve.

"It's okay, Tommy," DJ reassured her youngest son. "I'll be taping it, and it'll be on Ramona's Facebook page before dark tomorrow."

His face still buried into Ramona's shoulder, Tommy nodded but said nothing.

After a moment, Ramona said, "Hey, what am I doing standing around here still? I've got to get going."

"Yeah, that's right," Kimmy realized. "Papá and I will help you pack and drive you to the airport."

"Um, actually, Kevin told me yesterday to go ahead and pack just in case," Ramona said. "But the three of us can still go to the airport."

"I'll come, too," DJ volunteered.

Fernando nodded, and after one last good-bye hug and kiss from Steve and Tommy, Ramona and her parents were out the door with DJ close behind.

Steve had just put the coffee cups in the sink when he saw a very forlorn Tommy trudging upstairs. Right away, even though he wasn't his biological father, he knew what he had to do. He was also well aware that DJ had been there quite a few times with her boys.

Tommy was taking off his watch and ring when he heard a knock at the door. "Yeah?" he answered.

"Tommy, can I talk to you?" Steve called.

"Sure," he said, very quickly wiping his face with his hands before opening the door.

There was Steve, and the look on his face said it all. Granted, he wasn't what you'd consider an Ivy League valedictorian, but he was certainly no dummy.

"What's up?" Tommy asked as he sat down on the bed to take off his shoes and socks.

"Look, Tommy, you don't have to put on this act for me," Steve told him.

"Huh? What act?"

"You know—the whole brave face act. I've seen it more times than I can count."

Upon hearing this, Tommy started laughing, albeit not very convincingly. "Good one, Steve," he remarked. "Like I have to put on an act for you!"

"Tommy..."

"No, uh-uh! Look, you guys know me! I'm Tommy Fuller, Jr.! I'm a survivor!" Then he started singing off-key, "I'm a sur-viv-or, I'm not gon' give-up, and there's the thing, and the other thing, and a-no-ther..."

"All right, that's enough," Steve interrupted. "No offense, but I always knew singing was never your thing."

"Yeah? So what's your point?"

"My point is, you're not fooling me. I know exactly how you're feeling right now."

The instant those words came out of Steve's mouth, Tommy dropped the macho, tough-guy façade, wilted to the bed, and buried his face in his hands. He didn't want to let his stepfather know that he was crying, but to no avail. And the fact that he was shaking like a leaf was a dead giveaway.

Steve sat down on the bed next to Tommy and put his arm around him. "Hey, it's all right, buddy," he said gently. "You can tell me. Is this because Ramona has to take off on such short notice?"

Tommy looked up. His bloodshot, half-open eyes were streaming with tears. "It's not just that," he sniffled.

"What is it, then? Tell me."

Tommy dug his black bandana out of his back pocket, wiped away his tears, and clung to it for dear life. He felt so young and confused.

"I'm scared, Steve," he finally confessed. "I'm excited about tomorrow, but nobody ever told me about what happens after you graduate. I don't mean all the picture-taking and all that other stuff; I'm talking about really going out there on my own. What if I'm not good enough in school? What if I never get a shot at Team USA? And—and what if I get hurt and can't compete anymore? What am I going to do then?"

And that's when the floodgates really opened full force. Sobbing uncontrollably, Tommy hunched over and pressed his bandana against his face in a futile attempt to control the relentless wave of tears that were gushing down his cheeks as Steve pulled him into a comforting hug.

"Tommy, it's okay," he told him. "It's normal to have these feelings. I felt the exact same way before my graduation."

"How do you make it go away?"

"I'm afraid it doesn't just go away," Steve told him. "But there are ways of dealing with it."

"Like what?"

"Well, for starters, you can focus on all the good things you still do have. It's not like you'll be all alone out there. You've still got your mom and me, your brothers and their families, and the rest of us. I mean, sure, things won't be exactly the same, and we probably won't get to see each other as much as we used to, but you can always make sure to keep in touch. Tommy, even though we might not be together, we'll always be there for you. And no matter what happens down the road, I'll always be in your corner."

Tommy lifted his head up and wiped away his tears. "Really?" he asked, in a barely audible voice.

"Really."

"Thanks, Steve."

"You bet."

After they shared a hug, Steve looked at his watch and said, "Well, I think it's time to call it a night. You kids have a big day tomorrow."

"I'll say," Tommy agreed. He was on his feet in a second, getting his cap and gown out of the closet and hanging it on the back of the door, then getting out the first shirt-khaki-and-tie combo he could grab and laying it on top of his dresser.

"And you know, even if you don't make Team USA, you still have something to fall back on."

"True. I guess I did get a little worked up over nothing."

"Yeah, you might say that. Well, I'll see you in the morning, okay, kid?"

"Okay. And Steve? Thanks again."

"No problem. Good night."

"'Night."

A few minutes later, Tommy was in bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the wind and traffic from outside. As he lay there in the darkness, he came to a realization: Steve was right. These feelings he was having were perfectly normal, and not at all uncommon in kids his age. Not only that, he had no way of knowing what the future would bring, nor did anyone else. And expecting the worst-case scenario certainly wouldn't help, either.

Like the song said, "Que será será: whatever will be will be."

It'll be all right, he told himself. And besides, Steve said I still have a back-up plan. Just think about that.

And think about it he did. Just like he always did before practice or a competition, he trained his mind to block out all the what-ifs. That was the one thing his coach had always told him to do, and the more he did so, the better he felt about the whole situation.

Gradually, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of wowing the spectators with his magnificent dismount from the rings and flawlessly sticking the landing.

THE END