AUTHOR'S NOTE: Woot. I went to the 'rolling rally' for the Red Sox on Saturday. You can see pictures of it in this weeks' TIME magazine. But I wasn't near those ppl. I'm not crazy. If I could I'd post the pictures I have on here. Those of you who wanna see know how to contact me (oh yes, I got a loverly picture of a certain Jesus looking centerfielder we all know and love). I went near the end of the route and got close to a particular boy I've had my eye on.

I'm in a good mood (to say the very least), even though my Dunkin Donut's was closed for renovations. It'll save me some money and frustration in the morning, right? uhm, not really but sure. Whatever.

This chapter is dedicated to my Johnny Damon. I Heart Johnny (and Nicholas, I know, who the frick is that? see above for that 'particular boy').

BY THE WAY: I have been tryin to update for days now. IT just wasn't working for me. So blame and not me for lacking in updates. And My Best Friend will be updated once this is over....which is soon.

And once MBF is over prepare for a totally different MM story. You have been warned. I'm telling you, heed my warning and keep an open mind.

I met Chirstie at the restaurant. I was holding Ella's hand. "Could we please have a height chair?" I asked the hostess, who smiled at Ella and told me she'd have it right at our table.

"Aww, who is this cutie pie!?" Chirstie asked with a big smile.

"My daughter," I replied. "Ella."

Chirstie's mouth dropped. "Oh, I didn't know you had a little girl. Is it your weekend with her or something?" she asked.

"No. I have her all the time. Her mom is away for awhile working, but we'll be all together in a few months. Ella you want fries?"

"Whoa, wait, you are married?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Well, practically."

"Then why are you on a date with me?"

"I'm not," I argued. "I just said we could have dinner. Never said we were on a date."

She sighed. "Fine. I have to go then. I made plans with some friends just in case this didn't work out, and clearly it isn't. Good night."

I shrugged and the waiter came up to us. I ordered a side of French fries for Ella and a steak for myself.

Ella and I mailed the sea shell necklace to Mia for Christmas. Well, Ella gave her that, I sent her a locket to put on her bracelet with a picture of Ella at the beach, and on the other side was a picture of me. People would assume that Evan had given it to her and wouldn't bother to ask questions of her.

She sent Ella some dolls that were one of a kind from a Genovian doll maker. I made sure those were put high on a shelf so she didn't slobber all over them. She sent me a watch and some books I had trouble finding in the states.

"Only a few more months, you nervous?" Lilly asked as she packed her bag.

"No. Not really. I just don't want to be thrown into a Genovian prison."

"You won't."

"Don't forget this picture of Ella," I said handing her a new picture. She was going for a bridesmaid luncheon in Genovia. She would be seeing my wife the next day.

"Any messages for our fair Mia?" she teased.

I twiddled my thumbs and looked at Ella, who was playing in the back yard in a sandbox. "Tell her…tell her that we miss her."

So our wedding is in June. It is now late April, close to Mia's birthday. I didn't send her anything because we agreed that we'd celebrate our birthday's together when we were in Genovia ( I know, mine is in January but I don't care about waiting). But I did send a song I convinced the guys from my old band to record with me, to her for our three year anniversary.

Holy shit, three years now? It has been THREE YEARS since I married that crazy woman? How the hell have I survived the past three years without her?

I started preparing for the wedding as well. "Michael, what is this jacket for?" my mother asked one May Saturday afternoon.

I looked at the jacket she was holding up. "Oh that. Nothing."

She gave me a weird look. "I read something about Mia's wedding. That Evan fellow is wearing a jacket very similar to that."

I shrugged. "Great, I get to dress like her loser fiancée."

My mother's face softened. "How did things end with the two of you? I mean, she left so suddenly…we never discussed this. It isn't healthy to keep it bottled up inside."

"It just did," I snapped. "I never want to see her again," I mumbled. A lie. A huge lie. I hated doing this to my mother, but it'd all be over in a few weeks. Just a few more weeks of lying.

"So you are going to watch Ella for me tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yes, what are you doing tomorrow?" she asked skeptically.

"I just have a thing," I replied. I didn't tell her I was being baptized and receiving communion the next day, and that I would be confirmed on Monday night.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Ella is excited to sleep over your and Dad's place tonight," I said, quickly changing the subject.

She smiled, "We're taking her to dinner to show her off. That Bette Greene is always bragging about her granddaughter, I'll show her! Ha!"

I rolled my eyes. What ever happened to my logical psychoanalyst mother? Was she still in New York or something?