Disclaimer: I own ONLY AnneMarie, Fabiola, Madam Velosomikh, Madamé Císerosa, K.C. Anderson, Amelia Herrington, and baby Mariah.

Summary: This may be out of order in whatever way, but hey, its my story, I get to decide how it goes. ;-) Sorry if it takes a while for me to get it posted, but I've been writing it in whatever time I get between classes and stuff and I'm laptop less so its all scribbled down on paper and I've actually gotta find time to type it all up. But hopefully I'll find enough time somewhere. =) Also, I've decided to make it easier on people to let me know what they think, and give me more ideas of what to write. If you would like, I can be reached via email or Yahoo! messenger at AdorableKittens2002@Yahoo.com or via AOL instant messenger as PrincessSpzMnky . Feel free to drop me a line if you'd like. =) Happy Reading! =)

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Dedication: I am dedicating this chapter, as well as the next few, to my Grandmother whom I lost to Alzheimers on December 6, 2003. I actually wrote these the other day when I was having a really bad day, but didn't understand why until just before going to bed, when I looked at the calendar. It was also the same day I ran into my grandmother's friends at the grocery store. Its amazing how depressed you can get completely by accident. But anyway, to my Grandma Ruth . . . These last 4 months have been very hard without you, but I know that you are watching over all of us; helping us to heal and to move forward. Thank you for all the years of endless love and support you have given our family. We all love & miss you more than you know!

For more information on the horrific disease known as Alzheimers, please visit alz.org




I Need

~ ~ ~ 30 Minutes Later ~ ~ ~

"Oliver Residence!"

"Mom! I need you to go to my house and get the girls." Tommy said in a panicked voice.

"Tommy, what's going on?"

"I'm on my way to Santa Monica. Kimberly was in a bad accident."

"Oh my gosh! Is she ok?"

"I don't know. But AnneMarie is at home with Mariah. I really don't want to upset them, so will you please take time to your house, and not tell them what's going on? Just tell AnneMarie I had to meet Kimberly in Santa Monica, and I'll explain later."

"Ok. I'll take care of it. Where are you right now?"

"About half way there, I'm driving as fast as I can, but I"m stuck in traffic. I think there's an accident or something up ahead."

"Are you on the 5 freeway?"

"Yeah."

"Then there's definitely an accident up ahead of you. But I'm not sure where. Let me find out, and I'll call you back."

"Thanks Mom." Tommy said, then hung up.

~ ~ ~ 5 Minutes Later ~ ~ ~

"Tommy, what exit are you near?"

"Actually, I'm coming up on the accident right now . . . . . . . . . . OH MY GOSH!!!!!!!! I GOTTA GO!!!!!!!!!" Tommy said dropping the phone, and quickly pulling behind a police car.

"Sir, you can't stop here." an officer said as Tommy began to get out of his car.

"That is my wife's car!" Tommy said, trying to keep his voice steady, seeing the crushed Mercedes a couple of yards ahead of him.

"What is your name sir?" the officer asked.

"Thomas Oliver. My wife is Kimberly Anne Hart Oliver. I got a call saying she was on her way to the hospital, about 40 minutes ago. Can I see her car, please?"

"Mr. Oliver, I don't think . . ."

"Please!" Tommy said strongly. "I need to see her car!"

"Ok . . . . ." the officer said backing down. "Your wife was just flown to the hospital by Mercy Air. Would you like a police escort?"

"If it gets me there faster than a race car driver, sure."

"Do you race?"

"I used to. I quit about 9 months ago."

"The Angels, right?"

"Yeah."

"I wish we had met under better circumstances. I'm a fan."

"Thanks." Tommy said, forcing a half smile.

"Mr. Oliver, I'll warn you. Your wife's car is mangled pretty badly. There is a lot of blood."

"Oh my gosh . . . ok . . ." Tommy said taking a deep breath. "She's alive though, right?"

"As far as I know, yes she is."

"Ok good. That's all I care about." Tommy said as they approached Kimberly's car. "Oh my gosh!" Tommy said covering his mouth with his hand, as he stood there in shock.

"I am very sorry Mr. Oliver." the officer said as he stood with Tommy.

" . . . . .That . . . . . that's her purse . . . . . Can I take it?"

"I will go check with my Sargent. Can I get you anything?"

"No . . . Just her purse and that police escort."

"Sure. Looks like the tow truck is here . . ." the officer said softly, then walked away.

"Gosh, Kim . . . . . . . . ." Tommy said softly to himself, as he looked at the car. There was glass everywhere around him. All of the windows had shattered and both of Kimberly's air bags had deployed. Tommy could see blood on the leather seats, as well as the carpeting. The driver's side door had been pried open, and the seatbelt cut. Tommy looked back at the surrounding cars. There was a large truck behind Kimberly's Mercedes, with a very crushed front end, then another in front, with a crushed back. " . . . . . . . . She got hit from behind, didn't she?" Tommy said, more than asked, as another officer approached him.

"Yes she did . . . I'm very sorry. Officer Ramos said you asked for your wife's purse . . ."

"Yes . . ." Tommy answered softly.

"I just need to see your ID, please."

"Its in my car . . .Can I just give you the number?"

"I'm sorry, I need a photo ID."

"Ok . . . . ." Tommy said with a sigh, as he took one final look at Kimberly's car, before turning and heading back to his own. "Here you go." Tommy said pulling his drivers license out of his wallet, and handing it to the officer.

"Thank you Mr. Oliver. Here you go." he said handing Tommy Kimberly's purse. "I am very sorry about your wife."

"Thank you . . .:"

"Let me make sure your escort is ready . . . Is there anywhere special you would like your wife's car towed?"

"I don't really care right now . . . . ." Tommy said softly.

"Ok . . . I'm going to go check on that escort then." the officer said, then walked away as a tow truck pulled up behind Tommy.

2 minutes later, with the help of a the police and firemen, Tommy was out of the traffic, and on his way to the hospital.







To Be Continued . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .