He broke at three minutes.

"Well, I know what I was looking at, but I don't know why you don't want me looking at it. Maybe you could elaborate a bit here…" Len said.

"Maybe because I suck with the whole music thing…" I retorted as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And the fact that I could try to help you improve?" Len questioned, cementing the idea that he was going to fight this until he heard me sing or play at least one song, probably more.

"'Try' being the operative there." Fighting about this is perfectly OK with me, especially since I had leverage.

"If you suck so bad, why'd you record?" OK, he had me there.

"Exactly how long were you looking through this?" Dodge.

"I opened up to the back first. You gunna answer my question?" Retaliation.

"Curiosity killed the cat." I'm good at this.

"Satisfaction brought him back." But, unfortunately, so is Lenny.

"But then what would he have to live for?" But I'm still better. All I got from that was a raised eyebrow. "Wouldn't you rather die knowing that you lived to find something out than come back to life knowing that what you previously lived for was gone?"

He looks like he's thinking about something. "But how is it gone?"

"It's not the thing that's gone, it's the curiosity that drove you to find out what it was. The thing is still there, but the emotion attached to it is gone." Jade, 1; Lenny, 0.

Shaking his head quickly, Len seems to get annoyed. "Stop trying to change the subject!" he says. Yup, he's annoyed.

We're both silent for a moment. Then he scores a hit below the belt. "I thought we were friends."

I look at him for a minute, gauging his emotions. That's something I am good at. To everyone else, Lenny may as well not have emotions for as well as they can see them. But I know the signs. Twitching his foot means he's anxious, crossed arms means he doesn't like something, flared nostrils means he's pissed off, and if he starts grinding his teeth it means everyone better steer clear, because Mt. Lenny is about to blow.

Right now, his eyebrows are drawn together and his foot is starting to twitch. Can this be for real? Lenny, who isn't afraid of anything, is a bit scared of what my answer might or might not be?! Great, now I'm freaked out. I have to handle this situation delicately.

Sighing, I close my eyes and rub my temples. "You know you're my best friend, Len."

Flared nostrils. Oh shit. "Then why won't you let me see or hear your music?"

"I have my reasons," I say slowly.

"What, do you not trust me enough to let me hear your stuff? Huh? Is that it?" Let me tell you now, there are very few things that someone can say to me that really piss me off. Accusing me of not trusting someone that I do with my life is one of those few things.

"Yes, actually, I do, but many of the songs are about you, and I'm afraid that if you hear them you'll figure it out and never speak to me again," I say quietly. I was quiet, but I know he heard me. He also knows that when I start getting quiet it's a really, really, really bad sign. I once didn't talk to my sister for 2 and ½ years because she put my life in danger without my clearly stated consent, something else that really pisses me off, but, again, that's another story.

His eyebrows are now in the "Oh, shit, I just fucked up" position. He also seems surprised, probably about what I said.

Before he can apologize, I cut him off by tossing the book his way. "All yours, just don't listen to them around me and don't try to talk to me about them." With that I walked out of the room, turning sideways so that I didn't touch him. This time I have no inhibitions about running. I run all the way through the house, down the stairs, into the weight room, and turn on my heel to close and lock the door. Having done that, I turned to the sound system and popped in my favorite 'angry chick' music, Meredith Brooks "Blurring The Edges" and turn the volume up to ¾ blast. I'd put it up all the way, but it's still 5:45 in the morning and I don't want to wake up the neighbors, an old married couple that seem to like me.

Going over to the punching bag, I start working out to the drums. I use a different move for each drum in the set that's hit. Because of this, I'm often doing two or three moves at a time. It's a very good thing that I have good balance. Being pissed off helps. I hit the bag harder, which works my muscles harder, and makes me sweat more, which means I can get straight into the shower after I finish and not give Lenny the time to talk to me.

Spin, kick, jab, roundhouse, kick, kick, punch, hook. I lose myself in the moves, relishing in pushing my quickly fatiguing muscles to their max. I don't know or care how long I stayed down there, but when I finally came to my senses, the CD was starting it's second round. I look at the clock.

6:30. Lenny has to be gone by now. He better hope he listens to those CD's, 'cause if that's what he wanted, I'll be even more pissed if he doesn't listen to them.

Toweling off, I half walk, half jog upstairs to the bathroom. With a thought, I get in the shower, washing me body quickly but not even taking my hair out of it's braid. Once I'm clean, I wrap a towel around myself and go across the hall into my room. The notebook isn't in there. Good. Pulling on black silk, g-string panties and a matching bra, I shuffle through my drawers, finding black slacks and a button-up, long sleeved, business shirt. Putting these on, I pulled socks out of my drawer, slipping them on as I walked out of my room, also grabbing my wallet and slipping it into a back pocket and, keys in hand, walked out to my car.

Opening the trunk, I pulled forward and zipped open my big bag of shoes, grabbing black knee-high boots with a three-inch heel. Slamming my trunk, I went up to the driver's side door, unlocking it and sitting sideways so my feet are hanging out the door. Hitching up my pantlegs, I pull on the boots and turn into a driving position.

Closing my door hard, I start up my baby and put her into reverse, backing out of the driveway.

It takes about twenty minutes to get from here to the Redmond Church of the Nazarene. I made it in ten. At 6:54, I whipped into the parking lot and straight into a spot, cut the engine, and locked the doors as I got out and hurried into the comparatively small church. Going in the double doors, I look around and see everyone's already congregated in the sanctuary, but Todd hasn't started mass yet.

::Good, late enough that no one will notice me come in, but not late enough that everyone notices me come in.:: I think, slipping into one of the seats at the back.

No one will expect me to be here. Everyone knows me, but I never come to Sunday mass. I'm here Wednesday nights for teen nights and I go to all the church functions, but I've never come to Sunday morning mass before. I wouldn't today either, but I feel like having a little chat with the Holy Father up north.

I can see Lenny up front, next to Mrs. Anderson, an elderly lady who was widowed a few years back. A few rows from the front is Mrs. and Mrs. Hall and their daughter (my other best friend) Courtney.

As I was about to start looking for Todd, the pastor, Lenny got up and walked back to Courtney. They talked for a minute then he walked back to his place in front. Being at the opposite back corner from the both of them, I couldn't hear what they said or see their faces to lip read, a weird but useful skill of mine. I start wondering what they'd said. Was Len telling C what happened? Asking advice?

I was pulled out of my musings as everyone stopped talking. Looking up, I see Todd behind the podium, scanning the sanctuary as if he could tell there was something, some number or figure, off in the sizeable room. As his eyes get to me, I shake my head frantically as surprise registers on his face. Thankfully, he masks it before anyone else notices and looks back.

Todd starts his prepared mass quickly after that, though his eyes came to rest on me often as he looked at the fifty or so people in the room. Before I know it, Todd is telling everyone that we'll be singing "Sing" to warm up, then a new (or old, in this case) song from the old testament in Hebrew called "Do Di Li." I'm perfectly happy with that and suddenly glad that I had three years of choir at school. "Sing use to be a favorite warmup, and "Do Di Li" has a catchy tune, even though the lyrics, when translated, sound kind of weird.

Quietly, I start singing along to "Sing".

"Sing, allelu- allelu- allelujah,

Sing allelu- allelu- allelujah,

Sing, sing , sing allelu- amen"

We repeated that five times then Todd's wife, who played piano through the hymns, said she'd sing Do Di Li through once then we'd sing it. I lip-synced as she sang, getting slightly annoyed as she sang the soprano instead of the alto part in the second line of the chorus. I hate singing soprano. I was thankful at the end when she said if we didn't want to sing that high, we could just reapeat the first line of the chorus during the second.

Then we got going.

"Do-di-li, va-ni-lo, ha-ro-e, ba-sho-sha-nim,

Do-di-li, va-ni-lo, ha-ro-e, ba-sho-sha-nim,"

First chorus wasn't too bad, but I didn't really want to hear these people decimate the verses, which were difficult to get the hang of, both the words and the notes.

"Mi-zot-o-la, min-ha-mid-bar, mi-zot-o-la,

M'-ku-te-ret, mor-u-le-vo-na, mor-u-le-vo-na,"

I was right. It sucked, though it was pretty good for a first time thing. As we finished the semi-lengthy song I had to cringe at some of the slaughtering of words. The notes I can handle, but with the words… it annoys the Hell outta me, especially if I know how to do it correctly. I know that C can sing this correctly, she was always in choir with me, and there were a couple people who seemed to know it, but, still… And I know Courtney was in as much agony as me, so that kinda made it a little better, knowing I'm not the only one.

As Todd said a prayer to close the mass, I said a little prayer of my own.

::Hey, Father, I know we haven't spoken in awhile, but I need advice, and I wouldn't trust anyone else. See, I recently found out that the person I've thought was my mother my whole life isn't. I don't know what to do, what to think. Heck, I don't even know my own name anymore. I'm lost. What should I do? If you could, I don't know, channel a message through Todd or something, I'd appreciate it. Amen::

Crossing myself, I looked up to see everyone's heads still bent down in prayer, Todd's voice asking for a safe return for all the soldiers in Iraq. Having a feeling that that would be the end of the prayer, I silently snuck out the propped open door right next to me and walked across the hall to Todd's office, closing the door almost all the way before sitting down in one of the chairs across from his desk.

A few moments later, I heard a great shuffling in the hallway intersection and voices as people went into the kitchen or rec room or down to the nursery to get younger kids and knew that mass was over.8:00. I waited. At 8:15 the door opened and Todd walked into the room, closing the door after himself, then noticed me and jumped about two feet in the air.

Putting a hand over his heart, Todd said, "Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," I told him with a small smile. Why am I finding it so hard to smile.

"Perfectly ok. It's good to see you here for Sunday mass, I've been trying to get you in here for three years. Why are you here anyway, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Something happened yesterday, and I needed some advice from the big guy upstairs," I said, pointing up.

"That's understandable, but why did you leave before everyone else?" he asked, sitting on the twirly-chair behind his desk.

"Same reason I came in after everyone else, and sat at the back, I don't want anyone to know I'm here," I said, looking at my hands folded in my lap.

"Why?" Todd asked, "Everyone here loves you."

"I had a huge fight with Lenny this morning and I'm not quite up to facing him yet. Besides, I got a rep to consider."

"Ah, I see. So, did you get the advice you wanted?" he asked.

"No, not really, but I was hoping maybe you could rectify that…" I looked up at him to see him smiling. But, then again, this is Todd, he's always smiling. Taking that as a sign to continue, I told him the whole sob-story, at least the whole story with my mom lying to me, everything with Len, I just kinda skimmed over and told only the necessary facts. "Well, got anything?"

"Yeah, I do. First, you need to get everything with Lenny straightened out, because you'll probably need his support through this. Then you need to go talk to your mom, and decide what to do from there. If you want to find your real family, do that, if not, don't. It's as simple as that."

"So, nothing I didn't already know," I said disappointed. Sighing, I stand up and say "Thanks anyway, Todd. I'll se ya Wednesday." With that, I walked out the door, not really caring who saw me anymore and not paying attention to who else was even in the church, just absentmindedly saying "Hi" to anyone who greeted me and moving on.

Within two minutes I was out in the parking lot shutting the door of my car and about to put the key in the ignition. Just before the door got shut, someone grabbed it and held it open. I looked up to see Len standing there looking down at me with a concerned expression.

"Did you want something?" I asked, trying to be nice but still not over this morning.

All he said was "We need to talk."

"I know. Meet me down at the diner on Main in five." I said, yanking the door free of his grip and slamming it shut. Starting the ignition, I pulled out of the parking space and lot with a screech, not looking back to see if Lenny was even going to his car.

Ten minutes later we were sitting in a booth at the Main Street Café, giving our orders to Mindy, the waitress. After Mindy left, we sat silently, me studying our coffee intently, Len looking at me. After three or four minutes, Lenny said, "We really do need to talk about this, you know" breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I know," I said, still not looking up from my coffee. I can feel his eyes on me, and it's making me nervous.

We sat silently for another minute and a half before Len said anything. "Well, since you aren't talking, I guess I should start." Sighing, he seemed to collect his thoughts before continuing. " Look, knowing that you were keeping something from me hurt, especially since it's music oriented. We talk about music all the time, it's the topic of 75 of our conversations. I guess I just don't get why you wouldn't want me seeing or hearing your music."

Taking a deep breath, I know I owe him an explanation. So I give him one. "Because there are very few things I'm good at. I don't think music is one of those few things I can do well. How did you feel the first time you performed in front of a professional? I'm guessing that you felt like they would think you were bad because they were so good, and that you looked really bad next to them and felt really bad next to them. Am I right?" I asked, finally looking at him. Lenny nods. "Then you know how I feel right now. Even if I pass as marginally good at music, I feel like you'll think I'm horrible and for some reason not want to be around me anymore."

Lenny's about to say something, but we're interrupted by Mindy bringing our food. She refills our coffee cups and quickly hurries off to take another tables orders.

As soon as Mindy's gone, I go to pick up my fork and start eating, but Len starts talking before I can. "Why would I not want to be around you because of what you may or may not be good at? Whether you're a good musician or one that's really terrible, you're still my best friend baby girl."

As he calls me his best friend and 'baby girl' I flash to a song I wrote and recorded about a year and a half ago entitled "Those Things".

: All those things ya do to me,

Tell me ya don't see me for me,

Little sister,

Best friend,

Baby sitter,

When will it end?

When you do,

Those things you do,

And when you see,

That I can be,

A woman too!

You're you,

With those things you do,

Well I can do,

Some things too,

When you do,

Those things you do,

And when you see,

That I can be,

A woman too!

Got some tricks,

Up my sleeve,

So when we do,

Those things we do,

And when you have,

Things done to you,

You will see,

What it does to me,

When you do,

Those….. things you do….:

Maybe I should ask him not to listen to that one. Or not, since that'd be the first one he listens to. Sighing at the thought, I snap back to reality and realize he's still waiting for an answer. "Did you know, I always had this weird feeling that I somehow didn't belong with my family. Turns out I don't." I told him this, looking at my plate and picking at my hashbrowns with my fork.

"What are you talking about?" He sounds confused.

"See, I was filling out my info for an insurance application and they wanted a copy of my birth certificate. No big deal, right? So I make a copy of it, then get to actually looking at it. Do you know where I was born?"

"Kirkland, at Evergreen…" he says as if it's obvious.

"Nope. Turns out I'm from Los Angeles, California." I look up into his shocked face. "So, I get disgusted with the birth certificate and start looking through the rest of my file. The first thing I see is a packet of papers that say 'American Adoption Agency' at the top."

I'm near tears again. Seeing this, Lenny scoots out of his side of the booth and ducks around to mine, putting his arm over my shoulders, pulling me into his side. As I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my head in his shoulder, a few tears drop. I'm not sobbing like last night, but I'm crying nonetheless. A while later, I pull away from him a bit. Smiling, I say "Thanks" before giving him a peck on the cheek.

Weird place to end, I know, but this was getting a bit on the long side for my tastes.