Title: Snapshots: Anthology of a Life Well Lived

Author: Kimberly21570

Fandoms: Guiding Light / All My Children

Pairings: Olivia and Natalia / Lena and Bianca

Disclaimers and Other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia and Rafe Rivera, Maureen and Matt Reardon, Vanessa Chamberlain Lewis, and Phillip and Alexandra Spaulding are owned by CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. The characters of Lena Kundera and Bianca Montgomery, are owned by All My Children, ABC/Disney and Prospect Park. The original characters of Jordan Montgomery-Kundera, and Jacob and Dylan Jackson-Morgan and their extended family are the property of this author, and any resemblance to fictional characters, or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

No copyright infringement intended with regard to Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, AMC, ABC/Disney, or any other entity. The dialogue, settings, and story content in these scenes are original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.

As always, thank you to my pal, MoniRod for the edit. I know how busy you've been, of late, and thus, the time you take to help me means even more. And finally, thank you to Silverbutterfly50 for my beautiful new avatar and Confessions… banner. I admire your work, and certainly appreciate you thinking of me.

Rating: Chapter 5 is rated PG, though this story will eventually reach NC-17.

Synopsis: It's a stroll down memory lane for Olivia and Natalia, Lena and Bianca, and their friends and family, as two of our favorite couples' daughters prepare to enter into wedded bliss, in a double wedding… of sorts…

Author's Note: Pay particular attention to the transitions in time, as this chapter is a flashback within a flashback. Twenty-nine-year-old Emma is still on Moshup Beach, reminiscing about a conversation that took place during the summer when she and Jordan were 20 and 17, respectively, and the story flashes back to other memories…

Snapshots: Anthology of a Life Well Lived

Copyright September 2012

"Platonic friendship is the interval between the introduction and the first kiss."

— R. Woods, Editor, in Modern Handbook of Humor

Chapter 5—Of Closets and Kisses:

The Cottage, Martha's Vineyard—Saturday, July 17, 2021, 12:30 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

"So… was that your first meaningful kiss?" Jordan was inquiring, as Emma's thoughts returned to the present. They had been friends nearly all their lives, but something had changed since the last time they were together. And suddenly, Jordan felt an overwhelming need to know Emma more, to understand her better—to understand the source of the shadows that sometimes eclipsed those usually vibrant greenish-blue eyes.

Taken aback by the intensity of emotions evoked by the memory of that first real kiss with Dylan, Emma hoped her face didn't reflect her inner turmoil. She wasn't ready to share those things with Jordan. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Digging her toes into the warm sand, Jordan wrapped her arms around her knees, and leaned forward, studying Emma intently.

Self-consciously, Emma shifted her body, purposefully avoiding Jordan's intense gaze. "No," she said quietly, surprising Jordan with her answer. "But it was definitely my most memorable."

Jordan regarded Emma carefully. "What made it so memorable?" she asked quietly, hoping to draw Emma out of the protective cocoon she had just retreated into.

Emma hesitated for several moments, as she contemplated her answer. "The look in Dylan's eyes, the way that he touched me, I… I knew that he loved me, without even asking," she answered quietly.

"And that really meant something to you," Jordan intuitively surmised.

A soft, satirical laugh fell from Emma's lips. "Yes," she said softly. Distractedly, she raked her fingers through the sand beneath her bare thighs. "It meant everything."

Delivered on a shaky breath, Emma's confession spilled out into the warm ocean air, where she allowed it to drift, as she silently reflected upon that night, and all that had transpired since.

Being the observant one that she was, Jordan noted the shadows that once again eclipsed Emma's gaze. But she said nothing. Instead, she sat quietly, allowing her friend the moment of quiet inner reflection.

Several moments passed, and then willfully releasing the past, Emma brought her attention back to the present. She glanced at Jordan, gratefulness reflecting in her tired smile. And then her gaze drifted out toward the surf. "My first meaningful kiss was with Maury," she shared, purposefully shifting the subject away from Dylan. Maureen Reardon had been Emma's first girlfriend, and she was also the person Emma was dating at present. Interesting, how life took so many twists and turns sometimes, she mused. "But that wasn't the first time I kissed her."

"Oh, really?" Again, Jordan sounded intrigued. She settled in, a determined expression on her face. She wanted to know it all. "Tell me your stories..."

Emma smiled wistfully at the memories. "Well, I was fourteen, the first time we kissed…"


Emma's Bedroom, the Farmhouse of Love, Friday, January 30, 2015, 7:30 p.m. Central Daylight Time

Fifteen-year-old Maureen Reardon rifled through a walk-in closet full of clothes, like a mad-woman on a mission. A freshman at Lincoln Prep, she was frantically searching for the perfect thing to wear on her first official date. It was only a movie, but after three solid years of mooning over him, Jacob Morgan had finally asked her out. She didn't care if they sat on a log, watching ice form on the pond! But she had to look absolutely perfect while they sat there.

Lifting a pair of formfitting designer jeans and a cashmere sweater from one of a dozen neatly arranged shelves, she held them up against her body, surveying them in the full-length mirror on the back wall of Emma's closet, with a critical eye. Her hips were wider than Emma's, she knew, so the jeans would be far too tight. And the pale pink of the sweater made her skin take on a jaundiced hue. Frustrated, she released a disgruntled sigh, tossed the clothing onto the growing pile, and reached for another pair of jeans from the shelf.

Climbing the back staircase from the farmhouse kitchen with two mugs of hot cocoa in her hands, Emma reached the landing, and turned toward her bedroom. She heard the ruckus Maury was creating, and pausing in the doorway, she leaned casually against the frame, quietly watching the antics. "Um… what are you doing?" She sounded amused.

Ass in the air as she shuffled though the pile of clothing she had strewn all over the closet floor, Maureen's flexible form twisted like a pretzel, and effortlessly tucking her head between her long, slender legs, she peered up at Emma. The upside-down image of her best friend would have made her giggle, if she weren't so frantic about this outfit thing. "Looking for something to wear tomorrow night," she answered, sounding exasperated. "What did you think I was doing?"

"Pilfering my wardrobe again," Emma answered wittily. "And doing a really messy job of it."

Maury made a face at her. "Who says 'pilfering'?" She rolled her eyes, as she shook her head. The motion made her a little dizzy, because she was still upside down. "Where the heck did you learn a word like that, anyway?" she asked, as she continued tossing articles of clothing around the closet. "You're fourteen, for God's sake."

Emma grinned. Her vocabulary had always been light years ahead of her peers. "I read the dictionary for fun," she said, only half-jokingly. She was geeky enough that she had Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day texted to her phone every morning. And she always got a little excited on the mornings when she already knew the word. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No," Maury answered. "Just curious." She sent a pair of faded jeans sailing between her legs, and through the closet door, for good measure.

Pushing away from the doorframe, Emma kicked the door closed with her right foot. It was a gesture she had performed countless times during the years she had inhabited this room. "You're gonna clean all this up, right?" She set the mugs of cocoa on her nightstand, and climbed onto the bed.

"You sound like your Ma," Maury accused in a tone muffled by the pile of clothing she had scooped up in her arms. She was carrying them toward the bed.

Emma shrugged, as she plopped down in the center of her bed. She couldn't argue that. "So… while you were destroying my closet, did you happen to come across that cute pair of Levi's I wore last weekend?"

"No," Maury replied. She deposited the pile on the bed, and climbed on, sitting cross-legged next to Emma. "They're at my house."

"Why?" Emma sounded confused.

Maureen arched an eyebrow. "Uh, because they're mine." Sarcasm in her tone, she emphasized ownership, as she burrowed her hand into the pile of clothing. Pulling out a light-weight floral blouse in pastels, she scrutinized it. "What do you think of this one?"

Emma furrowed her brow. "Nah, those colors are too light. They make your face look pale," she answered. "And, those jeans are mine," she added, for good measure. "My moms bought them for me when they were checking up on their latest BGRC acquisition last spring."

Vaulting an eyebrow, Maureen sized Emma up. "Are you sure you're only fourteen?"

"Positive," Emma replied without a beat. "And that blouse doesn't work either," she commented on the latest article of clothing Maureen had retrieved from the pile. "You need something dark to compliment your complexion."

Releasing a sigh, Maury tossed the blouse onto the floor.

Emma's eyes followed it as it fell, and then she leveled Maury with a pointed look.

"Oh, just relax, neat-freak," Maury said dismissively, as she dug back into the pile, searching for another option. "Actually, they bought those jeans for me," she countered, again emphasizing ownership. "They bought you that adorable black dress that you refused to wear."

"I can't stand dresses," Emma declared with a shrug. "You can't play sports in them."

At fourteen, Emma was far more interested in sports, than in fashion. And not surprisingly, she was as headstrong as her mother, and she adamantly refused to wear anything but blue jeans, t-shirts, shorts, and sweats, regardless of her scheduled agenda. She even wore sweats to the formal dinners at the Spaulding mansion, much to her Great Aunt Alexandra's chagrin. Her parents found it amusing though; especially her dad, Phillip.

"Do you know how ridiculous I'd look, playing basketball or soccer in a dress?" she asked rhetorically.

Maury stole a quick glance at Emma. "You'd look good playing sports in anything," she complimented. "You're beautiful."

Blushing, Emma said, "Thanks… So are you."

It was the truth, but only Emma's tone made Maury actually believe it. "Thanks," she said, shyly.

A mischievous grin teased at the corners of Emma's mouth, making her look so much like her mother. "Hey, maybe you can wear that dress."

Maury laughed heartily. "I'm sure your moms would appreciate that." She leaned closer to Emma then, momentarily resting her chin on Emma's right shoulder. "You sure you're okay with me going out with Jacob?" There was concern in her voice as her dark eyes met Emma's gaze.

Emma smiled, and bumped Maury's shoulder with her own. "Yeah, I'm cool with it," she said breezily. Though she had harbored a longtime crush on the elder son of two of her mothers' best friends, she had given her blessing on the outing. She knew it was a big deal to Maury, and she had long-since given up on Jacob paying her any attention. "Jacob is really sweet, and he'll treat you right."

"You think so?" Maureen sounded hopeful.

"Yeah," Emma assured. Their eyes still locked, she gently brushed a wave of brunette tresses from Maury's face. "That's what I want for you."

"Thanks, Em," Maury said quietly. It meant the world to her that Emma wanted good things for her. She relaxed visibly, and returned to the business of picking out something to wear. She showed Emma several more options, earning the thumbs-down to all of them. Frustrated, she trudged back to Emma's closet.

Forty five minutes later, Emma released a heavy sigh, as she slumped back against her headboard. "I really don't think you're going to find anything suitable in my wardrobe, Maury." She sounded exasperated. "My stuff's too casual for your tastes."

"Well, I can't wear any of my own clothes," Maury countered. "We're in the same class. He's seen everything I own!" She sounded like that was the worst thing in the world.

"I think we need to go shopping," Emma declared. "Maybe my Ma will take us."

Shaking her head, Maureen said, "We should get your Mom to do it. She has better taste in clothes."

"Yeah, but Ma won't let her near the mall without a chaperone," Emma explained with a sigh. "Apparently, she spends too much money."

"Oh—" Shoulders sagging, Maury sounded almost defeated. And then out of nowhere, she released a nervous gasp, her face contorting in horror. "Oh, my God… What if he wants to kiss me?"

Emma arched an eyebrow, once again making her look just like her mother. "Do you want him to?" A bit taken aback by the surge of inexplicable jealousy she felt just thinking about it, she hoped her face didn't reflect her inner feelings.

Maury contemplated for a moment, and then she shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe."

"Then I don't really see the problem," Emma said, with an air of nonchalance she didn't really feel.

"Well, I…" Maury worried her bottom lip, as her dark eyes darted nervously between Emma's intent gaze, and the rumpled dress she had clutched in her hands. And then she lowered her voice, whispering, "I don't know how."

Emma felt her own surge of nervousness encroaching. "Well, don't look at me," she said, self-consciously, as she swiftly avoided Maureen's gaze. "The only experience I have is that day when Dylan ambushed me in the tree house. And I'm sorry, but that was kinda gross."

"I know you don't have any experience, Silly," Maury laughed, as she pushed Emma playfully. And then her eyes lit up. "Maybe we should practice," she suggested. "Then we'll both have experience."

"Practice?" Emma's heart leapt into her throat, nearly eclipsing her ability to breathe. Stealing a sideways glance at Maury, their eyes unexpectedly locked, and she felt her pulse begin to race with nervousness.

"Yeah. Practice," Maury reiterated. She bumped her shoulder against Emma's as she grinned at her. "C'mon, Em, it could be fun."

Emma didn't exactly look convinced, but she couldn't think of an excuse to say no. And part of her—the part she didn't quite understand—didn't really want to say no. It wasn't that the idea of kissing a girl was foreign to her. That would be ridiculous. But it was the sudden urge to kiss this girl that perplexed her. Maury was her best friend, not a girlfriend. And Maury liked boys. So did Emma for that matter. Perplexing, indeed.

"So… do you wanna try it?" Maury pressed, yanking Emma out of her ruminations.

Wordlessly, Emma swallowed around the lump in her throat, and nodded.

With Emma's tacit assent, Maury leaned closer, lightly brushing her lips against Emma's. The kiss was fleeting—so much so that Emma barely rendered it perceptible. Her eyes fluttered open, and she grinned at the fact that Maury's were still closed. She cleared her throat, grabbing Maury's attention. "Yeah, I don't think that's the way you're supposed to do it," she said, skeptically.

"No?" Maureen scrunched up her face. "How, then?" she asked, as she sat back, her eyes searching Emma's face for an answer.

"I don't know…" Emma shrugged. "Just… not like that. More like in the movies, or on TV."

"You mean like your moms, that day we caught them in the tree house?"

"Well, maybe not quite like that." Emma sounded chagrined. She had been beyond mortified when she and Maury had topped the rope ladder and opened the door to find her two mothers in a passionate embrace, each in a different state of obvious undress.

Maury grimaced. "Yeah, that was kinda gross."

Emma laughed harshly. "You're tellin' me!" She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Try living with them. They're like that all the time. It even grosses Rafe out—and he's married now!" She stressed the married part.

Reaching out, Maury lightly touched Emma's hand. Instantly, that grasped Emma's attention, and Maury asked, "Does the idea of kissing me gross you out?" She sounded disappointed, almost hurt.

Surprised by the question, Emma's head lurched back, and she blinked, twice. "What?" she gasped. "No!"

"Then why are you avoiding it?" Maury challenged. Her dark eyes never left Emma's bright ones.

"I…" Heart pounding in her throat again, Emma swallowed hard. "I'm not. I just…" She searched for words to express her jumbled thoughts. "What would it mean, Maury?"

Maureen leaned close, her eyes fluttering closed, as her fingertips lightly brushed Emma's lower lip. The gesture caused Emma's breath to catch.

"It doesn't have to mean anything, Em," Maury whispered. Her breath was warm against Emma's lips. "Not unless we want it to."

What if I want it to, and… you don't? Emma worried. And then, her curiosity overcame her nervousness, and she leaned into the inviting warmth of Maury's breath, throwing caution to the wind.

Her eyelids fluttered closed, and their lips met, brushing tentatively at first, and then more confidently. She was suddenly aware of the softness of Maury's lips, and the light, sweet scent of her shampoo. And when a soft sigh slipped past Maury's lips, Emma answered with a slight parting of her own.

Gently, Emma drew Maury's bottom lip between her own, mimicking the way she had witnessed her mother kissing her ma in their kitchen one afternoon. That particular kiss shared between her parents hadn't seemed nearly as disturbing as some of the others she had seen. Though, truth be told, she didn't really even mind the more unsettling ones… it was nice just knowing that her parents loved each other. Until Natalia became her other mom, Emma had never known what that was like, and she realized very early on, that she preferred the somewhat over-the-top public displays of affection from her mothers, to living in a world where her mom had never known the love she deserved.

Slowly, their kiss continued, and they felt the slightest hitch of mutual breaths, as their lips caressed, lightly, almost innocently. Fingertips tightly clutched her own, as Maury sighed softly into Emma's mouth, and Emma felt her head begin to spin.

Tangling the fingers of her free hand in Maury's soft, wavy locks, Emma allowed herself to get lost in the sensations that ravaged her body. They were unexpected, yet delightful, and she briefly wondered if this was what her mother had been talking about that day when she explained that woman's body was created to react to touching and kissing, even when it wasn't true love. She was pretty sure that talk had been about boys, but maybe it applied to girls, as well.

Her inner musings were cut short when Maureen suddenly panicked, and pulled away from their kiss; leaving the two of them out of breath, and feeling quite unsettled.

Maureen's eyes widened, as she met Emma's confused gaze. Locking for a brief moment, Emma opened her mouth to speak, but Maureen was shaking her head, as she stammered on about needing to find an outfit. Then quickly, she scampered from the bed, leaving Emma watching after her, as she retreated back into the closet.

Nearly thirty minutes passed before Maury finally reemerged, looking rather sheepish and still feeling a bit perplexed by all that had happened. She had spent the time trying to figure out why her body had responded to Emma's kiss. And why the fact that it did, scared her so damned much. It wasn't like lesbians were foreign to her. Or that she thought her parents might object. Though her mother, Vanessa, could be a bit uptight on occasion, she had never expressed any concerns about her best friend having two mothers. And her dad, Matt, well, he was a typical man—he thought lesbians were hot.

Emma was leaning against her headboard again, absentmindedly fiddling with her cell phone. To say she was confused would be an understatement. Why had she felt the things that she felt when kissing Maury? She had never thought of her that way before. And more importantly, why had Maury run away like that? After all, she was the one who wanted to practice kissing.

Tentatively, Maury moved toward the bed. "I wish you and Dylan could go with us," she said softly. She felt terrible for having run away from Emma that way, but she simply hadn't known what else to do. She never should have suggested that they kiss. What had she been thinking!

"Maybe next time," Emma said, by way of promise, as her eyes met Maury's dark, guilt-ridden gaze. Lightly, she patted the bed beside her, extending an unspoken invitation.

Maury smiled, and released a quiet sigh of relief, knowing that she had been forgiven. "Yeah," she said, as she crawled up onto the bed next to Emma. Leaning her head against Emma's shoulder, she took Emma's hand into her own. "Maybe next time."


Moshup Beach, Martha's Vineyard—Saturday, April 21, 2029, 8:30 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Yeah, maybe next time… Emma thought to herself, as her attention was drawn back to the sand and the surf. And then she was laughing, as she shoved away from the rock where she had been perched, continuing her journey along Moshup Beach.

Oh, if only they had known where that one innocent kiss would lead…

Next time, indeed.


TBC in Chapter 6…