She felt her jaw drop. She was dumbfounded. This was a lie. This was unreal. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. I'm in a dream, a very scary, very realistic dream. One in which I will wake up from very, very soon. "N-no. No you're not. My father is...Well I don't know. But you're not him."
"Yes, I am," he reached towards her slowly, but Maria backed away startled. "I have to talk to you."
"I can't...No." She mumbled, her eyes wide. She didn't know what to do. She had to get away though, thats all she could think of.
Maria walked away, leaving him standing there. She was so confused. Her father. Her father. The concept was...well, weird. She'd always pictured him as taller. And maybe a little bit handsomer. And of course, in all her escape fantasies he always had a limo and was a millionaire and he'd come to take her and her mom away from Roswell. She'd talked to Michael about this last year. They'd bonded over it. She'd always thought there was something better out there for her than Roswell, New Mexico. But now she wasn't so sure that she wanted to see her dad. Ever. Well, that was out of the question because if this man really was her father, and he wanted to talk to her...Then she'd probably end up talking to the guy.
Maria rammed her key into the front door of her house, and turned it, opening the front door. She went inside, and without turning on the lights, she walked through the living room and down the hallway to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her and changed quickly into her pajamas. Then she crawled into bed and let the tears out. She weeped freely, until her body could cry no more. She felt tired as sleep crept up and overwhelmed her.
"Maria," squealed six year old Liz. "Your dad's here!" She announced happily. Maria felt a smile on her lips, and her heart jumped happily.
"Where?" She asked, playing with one of her sandy blond braids. Liz pointed out the window excitedly. Maria rushed to the large window to look outside, and took in the site her little eyes saw. She rushed outside and into his arms.
He hugged her tightly. Maria beamed up at him, the joy overflowing in her heart. "I have a surprise for you honey," he said mischievously. He stepped forward, revealing a huge black stretch limousine behind him.
Maria gasped, he clutched her small hand in his as the chauffeur opened the door for them. "I missed you." She whispered softly.
He grinned back. "I tried to come back sooner, but I was busy."
Maria's heart dropped. Busy? "Doing what, daddy?" she dared to ask. What could have been more important than his daughter?
His grin turned into a smirk, and the doors locked instantly. Maria's heart raced, what was going on? The car filled with bright white light as her father shifted into a green figure with a huge head and large, lifeless eyes. The typically cliched alien. He reached a bony finger towards her. "Killing people of course," he said, his voice coming from somewhere other than a mouth. Because there was no mouth on this...this creature.
The terror that Maria felt escalated, and she screamed terrified. She pounded on the window of the car furiously. "Help me!! Help!" She cried out. She felt the stick-like fingers on her shoulder and..
Maria awoke in a cold sweat, her eyes wide, and her heart beating fast. Too fast. She'd had that dream before. In fact, she'd been having that dream for years. Except it never had been like that. Her father had never been an alien. Instead, they'd had ice cream, and she'd become a princess in his castle. Juvenile, she knew, but that's the dream she'd been having since she was in first grade. And that dream had been the one in which she'd found an idealistic for her father. One that he obviously could not live up to. He'd fallen off the pedestal. But that dream-was just too...Unsettling.
She rubbed her face, and then rolled over, looking onto her nightstand. The clock read 2:42. As in 2:42 am. She tried to go back to sleep, but there was no way that that was possible. Not after something like that. Tears streamed down her face. She reached for the telephone, and slowly dialed the memorized phone number. It rang a few times until it finally was picked up.
"What?" Michael mumbled tiredly into the telephone angrily.
"Michael," was all she said.
"Maria?" He asked his tone grew much softer. He could feel that something was wrong. Her voice didn't sound right, and besides it was 3 o'clock in the morning! "What's wrong?"
"Can I come over?"
"Of course," he answered. Thank God was all that she could think. If she'd had to spend another minute alone she'd probably have gone crazy.
"Thanks," she relied quietly, hanging up the phone onto it's cradle and slowly climbed out of bed. She threw on a pair of jeans and a top, this was no time for glamour. She didn't want to deal with glamour. She could look like hell, after all, that's how she felt.
Fifteen minutes later she arrived at Michael's apartment. She knocked on the door quietly, and he opened right away. He wore a white wifebeater and a pair of black boxers. That was it. Maria shook away her interest in Michael's attire-or lack thereof. That was defiantly not why she was there. He looked concerned, like he'd been waiting for her anxiously. Because he had, she thought happily. He cares. His eyes were a mixture of curiosity and sadness, and he stood there silent. Waiting for her to speak. To explain. But she didn't. She just collapsed into his waiting arms.
Michael held her closely, letting her sob into his shoulder. No explanation to him, but he didn't seem to care. He stroked her hair softly, whispering about how things were going to be okay. But they weren't. Not for her---not really. He took her hand and they walked over to the couch and sat. Michael still held her safely in his arms.
"I'm sorry," she choked out, pulling away from his embrace.
He shook his head, and smiled gently at her. She didn't need to apologize to him. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" So Maria told him about everything. He listened quietly, not saying anything until she was completely done.
"Your father?" Michael said, amazed. "Wow." Maria nodded her agreement.
"I feel stupid. Here I am, whining about how my father's come back to talk to me, and you---you don't...well, you know." She felt so stupid! Poor little Maria, now has two parents to deal with. This must be awful for him.
Michael shook his head gravely. "No, you're not stupid. You have every right to be upset." He kissed the top of her head.
"Thank you," she smiled softly. She was beautiful. He couldn't let her be hurt so much...How could anyone do this to her?
"Do you want to stay here? It's morning anyway," he offered. Maria nodded in acceptance. "You can have the bed, I'll take the couch."
Maria shook her head. "Can't...I mean, can't we just, sleep? I want you to stay with me. Will you?"
Michael smiled. And Maria felt her mouth turn up too. He could be so tender when he wanted to be. "Sure." Maria lay down on the couch, and Michael lay beside her, holding her in his arms, reminiscent of the time when she'd invited him into her bedroom the year before. Soon they both fell asleep.
The light filtered into Michael's apartment through a window with blinds half-closed and Maria could feel it was morning. Early, granted, but still morning. Even before her eyes were open. Michael lay beside her, holding her gently. She smiled slightly, enjoying the moment. The feel of his safe arms around her, the sound of his breathing. In and out, in and out, very evenly...It was wonderful. Her eyes fluttered open and then her fantasy world came crashing down. The confusion and sorrow of last night invaded her stomach, causing her to feel almost nauseous.
She stood slowly, and shivered slightly from the early-morning chill. She hugged herself tightly. She glanced down at Michael longing to be in those warm arms again. But it didn't matter. He wasn't even awake. Was he? She peered at him, and noticed that he didn't really seem asleep.
"Michael?" She whispered. No answer. "Michael?" She asked a little louder.
"What?" He opened his eyes and asked, his voice lacking the sharpness that was usually Michael Guerin's style.
"How long have you been awake?"
"A while," he admitted, an embarrassed grin briefly flickered across his face. Maria felt her heart pound harder. He'd been watching her sleep. He was so...so...cute. Yeah, okay, Michael wasn't usually classified as cute. It's not like he was cute like a kitten, or a baby. But this was an exception. She smiled at him in silence, basking in the moment they were having. "Uh-We should...Get you home ," he muttered, shattering it all. Leave it to spaceboy to ruin something.
She nodded. "Yeah. Um...I should go home, get changed."
It was his turn to nod. "I'll give you a lift." Maria smiled.
"Okay."
Michael stopped the motor bike on the curb in front of her house, and Maria jumped off, and handed him her helmet. She stood there, silently for a moment and then bit her lip nervously.
"So..." He said, awkwardly.
"Yeah...Uh, thank you for the ride," she replied lamely.
"Sure." She gave him a little half smile and turned towards his house. Michael watched as she walked away. Then she turned, and ran back to him.
"Michael?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you." She kissed him. Little electric bolts shot through her, and she could feel his heart, the pulse beating rapidly. They hadn't kissed in a long time...But she'd never forgotten how it'd felt. She never would. And it was this. It was wonderful. Deliriously intoxicating, like she was floating on air. Cheesy, but true. The kiss was soft at first, but it grew more intense by the second. Sweetness turned into lust, and she could feel Michael's warm hand, reaching up under her shirt. Their tongues entwined together, and Maria's knees felt weak. All she could think about was Michael. All the cluttered thoughts and feelings were pushed aside while they kissed. All there was was them. It was extraordinary. But this wasn't right. It couldn't be. She needed to get away. She had to...She couldn't be kissing him breathless without asking him. She slowly gained control of the rest of her motor functions, and pulled back quickly. "We can't," she said, her tone apologetic and longing.
"What?" He asked, not getting just why they couldn't. His voice was laced with a little irritation. Why couldn't they? It's not like there was anyone outside at this time in the morning to watch their make-out fest.
"What are we?" She demanded. A look of confusion crossed his face. "Are we friends, are we together? What are we?"
Michael shrugged. "I don't know. Whatever."
Whatever? Whatever?! Of course thats how the boy would choose to define the relationship. One word. But this time it was good. Because that technically meant he was giving her the choice.
"Together," she replied smugly, kissing him again, this time more restrained. She after all, had to get a shower. And, oh yeah, think about the whole thing with her father. A pang stabbed her stomach, making her feel all bad inside. Emotional turmoil and pure bliss were getting her all mixed up, and she had to set her priorities straight. She pulled away, and bit her lip again.
"Are you okay?" He asked her softly, and tucked a strand of her long hair behind her ear. She nodded.
"Yeah. I will be...Are you coming to school today?" Her eyes pleaded. He had. Say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes....
"If you are," he replied.
"Yeah. Okay," she kissed him one last time, "bye."
He grinned at her, and pulled on his helmet, started the motor bike and drove off down the road. She then turned and walked up her front stoop. Before her hand could reach the doorknob, the door was flung open by her mother.
"Maria, get in here right now," Amy demanded angrily. She stood there in a blue bathrobe looking somewhat haggard, and older than she should. She even had on the typical 'mom' slippers, they were blue as well, and fuzzy.
And so it unfolded. Her mother giving her the sex talk. Again. As if Maria even had time to think about Michael and sex. She'd been too busy pouring her guts out to him. Whatever.
"What were you thinking?" Her mother asked quietly from her spot at the kitchen table. She looked up at her daughter, pain in her eyes.
"I don't know," Maria mumbled softly, making invisible patterns on the table with her finger. Anything to avoid looking at her mom. Maria had made up her mind not to tell her mother about her father. Her mom was dating the sheriff, she'd moved on. The last thing she needed was to see her ex-husband, and have the return of all the feelings that accompanied him.
"A-are you at least using protection?" Her mom asked, her voice strained.
Maria looked up her eyes widening. She wasn't..? "Mom, I'm not hav-"
"That sure as hell wasn't what it looked like! You aren't there when I wake up, and I find you with your tongue jammed down some boy's throat, on our front lawn at 5:30 in the morning!"
"You're right mom, I am having sex," Maria snapped, rolling her eyes.
"Don't use that tone. This isn't funny. That boy-"
"He's not just some boy, mom," Maria cried. "You know him, you know his name, its Michael!"
"That's what scares me," Amy sighed heavily. "I found him in your bed not even a year ago, you've taken off with him before, without so much as telling me you're leaving. A-and now you're sneaking off to see him at all hours," She rose from her chair, staring down at her daughter sternly.
"Mom..."
"I'm putting you on birth control, Maria."
"I'm not sleeping with him," Maria protested again.
"I can't stop you from doing whatever you're doing...But you could have come to me, honey." A tear fell down her mother's face. "You even hid that you two were dating. You didn't need to lie," she said weakly. Maria got up and wrapped her arms around her mother.
"Mom...I'm sorry...I can't explain why I was with Michael." She bit her lip. She might as well save her mother from finding out about her ex-husband. The divorce hadn't really been a great one. "Michael and I are together, again. But not like that. We've never been together like that. And if you can't believe me then...I guess you can't." She smiled at her mother, and Amy smiled back, meekly. Not quiet believable. Maria shook it off, thats about as best as she'd get with her right now. "Come on, I'll make us breakfast."
As Maria flipped a pancake, she chatted nonchalantly. Both of them wanted to forget what had happened earlier this morning. The phone rang, and started towards it to answer it. Amy shook her head. "Nah, let the machine pick up."
Maria nodded, and returned to flipping.
"Hi! You've reached Amy and Maria DeLuca, we can't come to the phone right now, leave a message at the beep..." Amy's pre-recorded message on the machine said. It beeped and a man cleared his throat.
"Amy, it's John. Pick up the phone, I need to talk to you."
Amy stared at the phone startled. It couldn't be...Maria looked frantically at the machine and then at her mother. No..."Uh...I'll get it if you want, mom?" She offered.
"N-no...No I think I'd better," her mom replied quickly.
"Mom..."
"No! I mean, no. No, I'll get it." Amy reached for the phone and picked it off the cradle. "John?" She said weakly into the receiver. The dial tone was her only response.
"Yes, I am," he reached towards her slowly, but Maria backed away startled. "I have to talk to you."
"I can't...No." She mumbled, her eyes wide. She didn't know what to do. She had to get away though, thats all she could think of.
Maria walked away, leaving him standing there. She was so confused. Her father. Her father. The concept was...well, weird. She'd always pictured him as taller. And maybe a little bit handsomer. And of course, in all her escape fantasies he always had a limo and was a millionaire and he'd come to take her and her mom away from Roswell. She'd talked to Michael about this last year. They'd bonded over it. She'd always thought there was something better out there for her than Roswell, New Mexico. But now she wasn't so sure that she wanted to see her dad. Ever. Well, that was out of the question because if this man really was her father, and he wanted to talk to her...Then she'd probably end up talking to the guy.
Maria rammed her key into the front door of her house, and turned it, opening the front door. She went inside, and without turning on the lights, she walked through the living room and down the hallway to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her and changed quickly into her pajamas. Then she crawled into bed and let the tears out. She weeped freely, until her body could cry no more. She felt tired as sleep crept up and overwhelmed her.
"Maria," squealed six year old Liz. "Your dad's here!" She announced happily. Maria felt a smile on her lips, and her heart jumped happily.
"Where?" She asked, playing with one of her sandy blond braids. Liz pointed out the window excitedly. Maria rushed to the large window to look outside, and took in the site her little eyes saw. She rushed outside and into his arms.
He hugged her tightly. Maria beamed up at him, the joy overflowing in her heart. "I have a surprise for you honey," he said mischievously. He stepped forward, revealing a huge black stretch limousine behind him.
Maria gasped, he clutched her small hand in his as the chauffeur opened the door for them. "I missed you." She whispered softly.
He grinned back. "I tried to come back sooner, but I was busy."
Maria's heart dropped. Busy? "Doing what, daddy?" she dared to ask. What could have been more important than his daughter?
His grin turned into a smirk, and the doors locked instantly. Maria's heart raced, what was going on? The car filled with bright white light as her father shifted into a green figure with a huge head and large, lifeless eyes. The typically cliched alien. He reached a bony finger towards her. "Killing people of course," he said, his voice coming from somewhere other than a mouth. Because there was no mouth on this...this creature.
The terror that Maria felt escalated, and she screamed terrified. She pounded on the window of the car furiously. "Help me!! Help!" She cried out. She felt the stick-like fingers on her shoulder and..
Maria awoke in a cold sweat, her eyes wide, and her heart beating fast. Too fast. She'd had that dream before. In fact, she'd been having that dream for years. Except it never had been like that. Her father had never been an alien. Instead, they'd had ice cream, and she'd become a princess in his castle. Juvenile, she knew, but that's the dream she'd been having since she was in first grade. And that dream had been the one in which she'd found an idealistic for her father. One that he obviously could not live up to. He'd fallen off the pedestal. But that dream-was just too...Unsettling.
She rubbed her face, and then rolled over, looking onto her nightstand. The clock read 2:42. As in 2:42 am. She tried to go back to sleep, but there was no way that that was possible. Not after something like that. Tears streamed down her face. She reached for the telephone, and slowly dialed the memorized phone number. It rang a few times until it finally was picked up.
"What?" Michael mumbled tiredly into the telephone angrily.
"Michael," was all she said.
"Maria?" He asked his tone grew much softer. He could feel that something was wrong. Her voice didn't sound right, and besides it was 3 o'clock in the morning! "What's wrong?"
"Can I come over?"
"Of course," he answered. Thank God was all that she could think. If she'd had to spend another minute alone she'd probably have gone crazy.
"Thanks," she relied quietly, hanging up the phone onto it's cradle and slowly climbed out of bed. She threw on a pair of jeans and a top, this was no time for glamour. She didn't want to deal with glamour. She could look like hell, after all, that's how she felt.
Fifteen minutes later she arrived at Michael's apartment. She knocked on the door quietly, and he opened right away. He wore a white wifebeater and a pair of black boxers. That was it. Maria shook away her interest in Michael's attire-or lack thereof. That was defiantly not why she was there. He looked concerned, like he'd been waiting for her anxiously. Because he had, she thought happily. He cares. His eyes were a mixture of curiosity and sadness, and he stood there silent. Waiting for her to speak. To explain. But she didn't. She just collapsed into his waiting arms.
Michael held her closely, letting her sob into his shoulder. No explanation to him, but he didn't seem to care. He stroked her hair softly, whispering about how things were going to be okay. But they weren't. Not for her---not really. He took her hand and they walked over to the couch and sat. Michael still held her safely in his arms.
"I'm sorry," she choked out, pulling away from his embrace.
He shook his head, and smiled gently at her. She didn't need to apologize to him. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" So Maria told him about everything. He listened quietly, not saying anything until she was completely done.
"Your father?" Michael said, amazed. "Wow." Maria nodded her agreement.
"I feel stupid. Here I am, whining about how my father's come back to talk to me, and you---you don't...well, you know." She felt so stupid! Poor little Maria, now has two parents to deal with. This must be awful for him.
Michael shook his head gravely. "No, you're not stupid. You have every right to be upset." He kissed the top of her head.
"Thank you," she smiled softly. She was beautiful. He couldn't let her be hurt so much...How could anyone do this to her?
"Do you want to stay here? It's morning anyway," he offered. Maria nodded in acceptance. "You can have the bed, I'll take the couch."
Maria shook her head. "Can't...I mean, can't we just, sleep? I want you to stay with me. Will you?"
Michael smiled. And Maria felt her mouth turn up too. He could be so tender when he wanted to be. "Sure." Maria lay down on the couch, and Michael lay beside her, holding her in his arms, reminiscent of the time when she'd invited him into her bedroom the year before. Soon they both fell asleep.
The light filtered into Michael's apartment through a window with blinds half-closed and Maria could feel it was morning. Early, granted, but still morning. Even before her eyes were open. Michael lay beside her, holding her gently. She smiled slightly, enjoying the moment. The feel of his safe arms around her, the sound of his breathing. In and out, in and out, very evenly...It was wonderful. Her eyes fluttered open and then her fantasy world came crashing down. The confusion and sorrow of last night invaded her stomach, causing her to feel almost nauseous.
She stood slowly, and shivered slightly from the early-morning chill. She hugged herself tightly. She glanced down at Michael longing to be in those warm arms again. But it didn't matter. He wasn't even awake. Was he? She peered at him, and noticed that he didn't really seem asleep.
"Michael?" She whispered. No answer. "Michael?" She asked a little louder.
"What?" He opened his eyes and asked, his voice lacking the sharpness that was usually Michael Guerin's style.
"How long have you been awake?"
"A while," he admitted, an embarrassed grin briefly flickered across his face. Maria felt her heart pound harder. He'd been watching her sleep. He was so...so...cute. Yeah, okay, Michael wasn't usually classified as cute. It's not like he was cute like a kitten, or a baby. But this was an exception. She smiled at him in silence, basking in the moment they were having. "Uh-We should...Get you home ," he muttered, shattering it all. Leave it to spaceboy to ruin something.
She nodded. "Yeah. Um...I should go home, get changed."
It was his turn to nod. "I'll give you a lift." Maria smiled.
"Okay."
Michael stopped the motor bike on the curb in front of her house, and Maria jumped off, and handed him her helmet. She stood there, silently for a moment and then bit her lip nervously.
"So..." He said, awkwardly.
"Yeah...Uh, thank you for the ride," she replied lamely.
"Sure." She gave him a little half smile and turned towards his house. Michael watched as she walked away. Then she turned, and ran back to him.
"Michael?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you." She kissed him. Little electric bolts shot through her, and she could feel his heart, the pulse beating rapidly. They hadn't kissed in a long time...But she'd never forgotten how it'd felt. She never would. And it was this. It was wonderful. Deliriously intoxicating, like she was floating on air. Cheesy, but true. The kiss was soft at first, but it grew more intense by the second. Sweetness turned into lust, and she could feel Michael's warm hand, reaching up under her shirt. Their tongues entwined together, and Maria's knees felt weak. All she could think about was Michael. All the cluttered thoughts and feelings were pushed aside while they kissed. All there was was them. It was extraordinary. But this wasn't right. It couldn't be. She needed to get away. She had to...She couldn't be kissing him breathless without asking him. She slowly gained control of the rest of her motor functions, and pulled back quickly. "We can't," she said, her tone apologetic and longing.
"What?" He asked, not getting just why they couldn't. His voice was laced with a little irritation. Why couldn't they? It's not like there was anyone outside at this time in the morning to watch their make-out fest.
"What are we?" She demanded. A look of confusion crossed his face. "Are we friends, are we together? What are we?"
Michael shrugged. "I don't know. Whatever."
Whatever? Whatever?! Of course thats how the boy would choose to define the relationship. One word. But this time it was good. Because that technically meant he was giving her the choice.
"Together," she replied smugly, kissing him again, this time more restrained. She after all, had to get a shower. And, oh yeah, think about the whole thing with her father. A pang stabbed her stomach, making her feel all bad inside. Emotional turmoil and pure bliss were getting her all mixed up, and she had to set her priorities straight. She pulled away, and bit her lip again.
"Are you okay?" He asked her softly, and tucked a strand of her long hair behind her ear. She nodded.
"Yeah. I will be...Are you coming to school today?" Her eyes pleaded. He had. Say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes....
"If you are," he replied.
"Yeah. Okay," she kissed him one last time, "bye."
He grinned at her, and pulled on his helmet, started the motor bike and drove off down the road. She then turned and walked up her front stoop. Before her hand could reach the doorknob, the door was flung open by her mother.
"Maria, get in here right now," Amy demanded angrily. She stood there in a blue bathrobe looking somewhat haggard, and older than she should. She even had on the typical 'mom' slippers, they were blue as well, and fuzzy.
And so it unfolded. Her mother giving her the sex talk. Again. As if Maria even had time to think about Michael and sex. She'd been too busy pouring her guts out to him. Whatever.
"What were you thinking?" Her mother asked quietly from her spot at the kitchen table. She looked up at her daughter, pain in her eyes.
"I don't know," Maria mumbled softly, making invisible patterns on the table with her finger. Anything to avoid looking at her mom. Maria had made up her mind not to tell her mother about her father. Her mom was dating the sheriff, she'd moved on. The last thing she needed was to see her ex-husband, and have the return of all the feelings that accompanied him.
"A-are you at least using protection?" Her mom asked, her voice strained.
Maria looked up her eyes widening. She wasn't..? "Mom, I'm not hav-"
"That sure as hell wasn't what it looked like! You aren't there when I wake up, and I find you with your tongue jammed down some boy's throat, on our front lawn at 5:30 in the morning!"
"You're right mom, I am having sex," Maria snapped, rolling her eyes.
"Don't use that tone. This isn't funny. That boy-"
"He's not just some boy, mom," Maria cried. "You know him, you know his name, its Michael!"
"That's what scares me," Amy sighed heavily. "I found him in your bed not even a year ago, you've taken off with him before, without so much as telling me you're leaving. A-and now you're sneaking off to see him at all hours," She rose from her chair, staring down at her daughter sternly.
"Mom..."
"I'm putting you on birth control, Maria."
"I'm not sleeping with him," Maria protested again.
"I can't stop you from doing whatever you're doing...But you could have come to me, honey." A tear fell down her mother's face. "You even hid that you two were dating. You didn't need to lie," she said weakly. Maria got up and wrapped her arms around her mother.
"Mom...I'm sorry...I can't explain why I was with Michael." She bit her lip. She might as well save her mother from finding out about her ex-husband. The divorce hadn't really been a great one. "Michael and I are together, again. But not like that. We've never been together like that. And if you can't believe me then...I guess you can't." She smiled at her mother, and Amy smiled back, meekly. Not quiet believable. Maria shook it off, thats about as best as she'd get with her right now. "Come on, I'll make us breakfast."
As Maria flipped a pancake, she chatted nonchalantly. Both of them wanted to forget what had happened earlier this morning. The phone rang, and started towards it to answer it. Amy shook her head. "Nah, let the machine pick up."
Maria nodded, and returned to flipping.
"Hi! You've reached Amy and Maria DeLuca, we can't come to the phone right now, leave a message at the beep..." Amy's pre-recorded message on the machine said. It beeped and a man cleared his throat.
"Amy, it's John. Pick up the phone, I need to talk to you."
Amy stared at the phone startled. It couldn't be...Maria looked frantically at the machine and then at her mother. No..."Uh...I'll get it if you want, mom?" She offered.
"N-no...No I think I'd better," her mom replied quickly.
"Mom..."
"No! I mean, no. No, I'll get it." Amy reached for the phone and picked it off the cradle. "John?" She said weakly into the receiver. The dial tone was her only response.