A/N: This chapter is dedicated to arodloverus2001, who is the only person faithfully reviewing this story. If it were not for you, this story would have been over long ago. So, to you: thanks.

Pretend Game

The rest of Christmas day sped by rather quickly. I have to admit that it was a lot harder than it looked to keep my knew-found knowledge to myself. Sasha and I had to pretend that we didn't know what we knew, thus acting like everything was perfectly normal and we were all just gathering together to celebrate the birth of Christ and our love of one another.

I was not the kind of person who dealt well with secrets. It just about killed me to keep my smile pasted to my face and keep up with idle chit chat. Sasha and I could barely look at one another without the fear of giving ourselves away. From across the room she and I would pass glances and knowing looks. Oh, I couldn't wait for this day to be done, when I could call her and we could have the privacy we needed for a conversation of this magnitude. To walk away and find somewhere to talk would blow the secret right out of the water. Carly could never suspect that Sasha had told me the secret of her pregnancy.

Honestly, I didn't know why she wouldn't want the rest of us to know. Brett was surely the father and didn't they think that we'd find out sooner than later any how? Oh, the agony of having that piece of information lingering on my brain was enough for me to want to call off the rest of Christmas day and just have it out with the two of them.

But I did none of that.

I sat before the fire that Bosco had kindled and stretched out my hands to feel the gentle warmth on me, while Brett, Carly, Emma and Rob played a game of Monopoly at the diningroom table. Mike had left to go 'do something'. My guess was that the thing that he was doing, had a name. Carmelle Sambrooke.

Bosco and Ty had stretched out on our long sectional sofa to drink rum and cokes and talk about the old days, each sporting new red wool sweaters that we had given them as an extra gift. They looked so handsome. Every once in a while one of them would take to a fit of laughing about something that someone had done. It still amazed me how close they were, even after all of these years.

Sasha and I sat quietly, our eyes connecting and holding, each scared of what the future held. I stood up and stretched my arms over my head and yawned. ' I think I ate enough to last me for a month. I'm gonna go start on those dishes.'

Immediately, Sasha stood and started clearing away some glasses and plates that had accumulated from the days events. ' You need some help'? She asked innocently, knowing it would give us the perfect excuse to talk.

I faltered and looked over at the Monopoly game. No one was listening to us or paying attention.

'Uh, sure. That would be great.' I said, as casually as I could.

Brett and Carly were in a furious war over Park Place and Boardwalk and Rob was lording it over everyone that he had more money then all of them put together. They were all laughing and joking around and in a festive mood. Emma was trying her best to steal money from Rob's stash when he wasn't looking. Little Faith lay asleep on the far end of the couch, pillows all around her.

"You're cheating!' Accused Brett, playfully pointing an arm at Carly.

'Am not! Prove it Boscorelli'. She challenged him, giving one of her sweetest smiles.

'By the way, Mrs. Justason'. Rob interjected, looking at his wife, and picking up his money and looking at it. ' You now owe me four hundred dollars from my count.'

'Ha, ha!' Emma laughed and leaned over and kissed him. It was enough for him to forget the money for a minute. He put his arm around her and kissed her passionately.

'Ok, ok, ok. Don't make us uncomfortable or anything.' Brett said sarcastically, throwing a hotel at the pair.

'Oh, leave them alone, B, they're in love.' Carly chastised gently, giving him a playful pinch on the arm.

He nodded and picked up the dice and rolled. 'Ok, now, you better watch out Robert, cause I am buying a hotel for Park Place and Boardwalk.'

What surprised me was that there was no change what-so-ever in Carly's demeanor. She was certainly hiding any sorrow or worry that she had, and so was Brett. Why, we'd never have known that anything was wrong if she hadn't thrown up or I'd over heard them talking on the phone.

Ty leaned forward and held his empty glass out to his wife. ' Yes, woman! Go help clean up and refill my glass if you could.' He said in his silly drunk way, attempting to make a grand bow.

Bosco took the hint.

' Yes, dear wife, please do your womanly duty and give your man another refill as well.' He tried to sound suave and debonaire, but just sounded like an ass.

Both of them took into another fit of giggles when they saw the looks on our faces.

' Ya, I'll refill ya...right up your rump.' Sasha threw at them, hands on her hip, shaking her head. But she wasn't upset. Like me, she had learned that when Maurice Boscorelli and Ty Davis got together, there was bound to be stupid comments and lots of silliness.

Ignoring the both of them, Sasha and I left the room and headed toward the kitchen.

I exhaled the breath I'd been subconsciously holding when I got to the sink. I turned around to face my friend, waiting for her to tell me tidbits of her story, if she could.

We began to stack the dishes and glasses and I filled the sink and put the water on full blast.

' Well?' I whispered.

She turned to the door, to make sure that no one was around before she spoke what, to her, were words of the most importance and very, very top secret.

' I asked her last night after we got home. She denied it at first.' Sasha whispered.

' And'?

' I told her I knew something was goin' on and that I knew she was sick and that she couldn't hide it from us for too much longer.' She continued, breathless, as if she was were being chased by the devil and had to spill her story before he caught up with her.

I widened my eyes, wondering what happened next.

' She just sat down on the bed and started to cry and wouldn't say nothing else. I asked her to tell me how far along she was and she just started to cry harder. I took that as a confession. I told her that it would be ok and that she could always count on us for anything.' She stopped talking and pursed her lips together, as if what were to come next was too awful to repeat.

" Sash? What is it?' I pursued.

She shook her head and said that she had made a terrible mistake and that nothing could undo it. She was especially scared about your family.'

I blanched, not understanding.

'My family? What does that mean?'

She shrugged. 'Your guess is as good as mine, girl. I asked her and she said that everyone would hate her when they knew. I think she's afraid because her and Brett haven't even told anyone that they're together. Only the good Lord knows why they never told us, but he knows.' She muttered.

'Sasha, there is more to this story than either of us know.' I said slowly. 'This doesn't even make sense.' I said, more confused than I had been before.

But that night, after everyone had left and Bosco and I were getting ready for bed, the phone rang. It seemed that these late night phone calls were becoming something of a usual thing at our house.

'Who could that be?' I wondered aloud. I pulled my blue nightgown over my head and walked over to my dresser and grabbed my brush. I sat down at my vanity table and began to count the strokes. I always brushed my hair one hundred times before I went to bed each night. It really did work, because I still had shiny soft hair.

'Probably wrong number.' Bosco grumbled, pulling off his jeans and throwing his new red sweater on a pile on his side of the bed. Now only in a pair of green boxer shorts, he slipped under the covers and rolled over on his side watching me.

It only rang once, and I wasn't sure that anyone had even picked up. There was only one phone upstairs and two downstairs. One in the kitchen and one in the living room.

'Let it go. It's still Christmas day. Remember your promise?' He said reminded me gently.

I sighed and looked at his reflection in my mirror. 'I know. I didn't say a word all day long.' I shot back.

He laughed, that familiar sparkle making his eyes twinkle. 'Oh how you must have suffered!'

'Oh shut up.' I mumbled. He was right in a way; It was terrible for me to have to keep my mouth closed for a whole day and not mention anything to either Brett or Carly. He didn't understand how hard it was for a mother to butt out of her children's affairs, he didn't!

'I bet that tongue of yours is just about sawed off in half, isn't it?' He pursued, rolling over onto his back and tucking his hands behind his head.

I guess he was in a thoughtful mood.

'Bosco! You should be proud of me for not saying anything, not badgering me. A little support would be nice you know.' I lectured my fifty-seven year old husband.

By this time, I was getting pretty tired and now, with his teasing me, a bit irritated. He turned his head my way and grinned at me. I knew that grin.

Yes. I knew that grin well. He always used it when he could sense that I was about fed up with him. And although there were many times that I was very irritated and grumpy he could always get me in the mood with that one look he gave me. He undressed me with his eyes, his tongue wetting his sensual lips and within ten seconds I wanted him. He was that good.

'Welllll...why don't you come into bed and I'll show you just how proud of you I am.' He said in his most inviting way. He even batted his eyes at me and motioned for me to come closer with his finger.

I felt myself being drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I got in bed beside him and I could feel my heart beating a million miles a minute. He simply stared at me, drinking me in with his eyes, his breath on my cheek. I still got excited when I knew he was going to make love to me. I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the greatest love I had ever known.

After it was over, I lay in his arms for a few minutes, relishing the feel of his arms around me, the feel of his cheek against my neck. His smell, his taste, his lips on my mind, as they always were when we were done.

As I was about to close my eyes and fall into a deep restful sleep, the telephone rang again. This time it was picked up after two rings.

This was enough. I had to find out what the hell was happening with my family. I jumped out of bed and grabbed my robe and slippers.

I did up the belt on my robe and tightened it around me and glanced at Bosco, who was now passed out on our bed snoring. When he had any amount of alcohol he always feel asleep ten times better.

Tonight I didn't mind.

I took a deep breath and put my trembling hand on the door knob and opened it slowly. I knew in my heart who was on that phone and I knew that there was more to this story than I would ever know.

Unless...

It was wrong, I know it was. But sometimes a mother has instincts that carry her along, like a piece of driftwood, caught in an undercurrent so strong that she had no choice but to let it take her where it would.

I felt the soft carpet on the bottom of my feet as I slowly made my way downstairs. There weren't any lights on, so I felt along the wall with my hand until I got to the bottom.

I continued on down the hall walking as quietly. Nothing could be heard except the sound of my slippers along the hardwood floor. As I neared the livingroom, I could hear Brett speaking harshly.

'I don't care! Do you think I wanted to deal with this either?'

I stood still just outside the door, hoping he would reveal what the problem was.

'Want it? What do you mean?'

'No! We didn't plan on anything like that happening...but...what?'

For the life of me I couldn't understand why the two of them hadn't told us what was happening between them sooner. We all knew what was going on...why all the secretiveness? Why hadn't Brett told me she was pregnant himself? It was driving me crazy.

All his life, my Brett had been responsible in everything he did, be it grades, chores or friendships. He had always been the one that I didn't have to worry about, especially with his girlfriends. He and I had always been close, even in his teenage years and he had always come to me with questions or concerns he had. I never worried about him getting a girl pregnant, the way I had always done with Mikey. Mikey was a totally different person than his brother.

Mike had grown up and taken after the way Bosco had been, except that he had never had a real respect towards women the way that Bosco and Brett had. I didn't know why. It just seemed that Mikey was only out for one thing. That was until he had met Kath. I sighed just thinking about poor Kath and how lonely she must be this time of year. I made up my mind to give her a call the next free minute I had.

I crossed my arms over my breasts and held my breath. And then, the sound of Brett sniffling.

Was he crying?

'Can't you just tell me?' He cried out, the agony in his voice all but tearing me apart.

'Damn you to hell!' Was the last thing I heard before he flung my cordless phone against the fireplace, smashing it to bits.

Oh, the anger and resentment I felt for Carly Davis at that moment was monumental. I couldn't believe that she had done this to my son! I could hear the sound of Brett sobbing but it sounded like he had buried his face into a pillow.

Ignoring my first instinct to just turn and walk away and let my son deal with this himself, I took a deep breath and stepped into the livingroom. There was a fire burning brightly in the fireplace, lighting up the room in a cozy, romantic sort of way, but the scene before me was anything but.

Brett was on the sectional couch hunched over, his head in his hands. He was sobbing as quietly as he could, the tears running off of his cheeks and dripping onto his pajama pants. He made no move to even look up at me, even though he knew I was there.

I sat down next to him and put my arm around his shoulders. For once he didn't resist. He turned and buried his face into my lap, clinging onto my legs.

'She's pregnant, mom. She's pregnant.' He kept saying over and over again.

I ran my hands through his sandy hair and murmured words of comfort as best I could. 'Darling, it's ok. It's going to be ok.'

Finally, he sat up and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. 'You must think I'm some kind of wimp, huh?' He said dejectedly.

I widened my eyes. 'No! Don't ever say that! I think you're wonderful. Please tell me what has been going on with you two. I can't stand to see you so upset. Please.' I begged my third son.

He stood up and walked over to our dining room table and poured himself a big glass of Bosco's scotch. Brett was never much of a drinker. Until now.

He took a sip before making his way back to the couch. He sat down, heavily sat.

I sat there beside my son and waited what seemed like an eternity for him to speak. He was so handsome, so virile and dangerous looking when he was angry. And he was angry now.

'Brett...' I began.

He held up his hand and shook his head. 'No. Just give me a minute to think.'

I began to bit my fingernails. It was a habit I'd had since childhood and it seemed that it would never be broken. I was nervous and I knew no other way to cope with nervousness other than talking a blue streak.

He clanked his glass down on the coffee table and sat back again. He crossed one leg over his knee and began to drum his foot on the floor. He didn't even look at me as he began.

' I know that you know about Carly and me. I don't know why we never told anyone before now, but it just seemed more...private.'

'How long?'

'Three years.'

I gasped. Three years? Three long years, they had been together? I had always known...but to hear it struck me like a blow to the head. What other secrets did they have about their lives in Cambridge? I said nothing more, afraid that he wouldn't tell me what he had on his mind.

'Yes, mother. Three years of bliss. Three years of love and faithfulness and trust...gone down the drain. I can't believe she let herself get pregnant.' He said in a mournful voice reserved for someone talking about the dearly departed. But in that moment, I understood that Brett saw this child as the death of his relationship, essentially, his life with Carly. I was a little surprised though, at his apparent upset over his own child.

'Down the drain because of the baby?' I asked softly.

'It wasn't supposed to happen this way, mom.'

What could I say to that? Who ever had everything happen to them the way they wanted? Even the super rich knew that nothing was ever perfect. My heart went out to my third son, my one son that I never worried about. Until now.

'Brett, a baby is a wonderful thing. I remember when I found out that I was carrying you. I never thought I could love another baby as much as I loved Emily and Charlie, and then Mikey, but the moment I saw your sweet face I knew that I was in love all over again. It will happen to you when you see your son or daughter for the first time. Those tiny fingers and toes and the sweetest face you ever saw...oh Brett, it will be wonderful...I promise.'

He looked over at me, not convinced. 'When you met dad how did he treat Emily and Charlie?'

His question threw me for a second, for it was quite out of context. 'Well, he always loved them. We were partners for a long time before we were lovers. Fred and I had divorced and Bosco and I started spending a lot of time together and he loved my kids. He was always there for them. They called him 'uncle Bosco' from the time they could talk.' I said, my voice soft and dreamlike, as it always was when I recalled my two eldest children.

He said nothing else, just looked at the ceiling for the longest time. I reached over and took his hand into mine.

'Brett, don't you want this child? Your own flesh and blood?' I asked, looking deep into his eyes, for I could not believe that he could be so cold and callous. His father and I had taught him better.

He groaned and shook his head. 'Yes and no. I love Carly with my whole heart, mom. I love her so much it hurts...but you don't know everything and once you do, there won't be any going back. She didn't want me to tell you anything, not even that she was pregnant...but I bet Sasha already told you.'

My silence was as good as a confession. He saw it in my face.

'I won't tell her. Don't worry.'

'I wasn't worried. I'm worried about what you're going to do about your attitude.' I said, a little starchily.

He scoffed at me. 'You really think you've got it all figured out, don't you? You think I won't love my own kid. You think I'm being selfish, don't you?' He accused brokenly, his voice shrill, his face a mask of pain, in the glow of the fire.

Again, my silence told him what he wanted to know.

'Well, you don't understand'. He said, just as starchily.

'Don't understand what, exactly? That you got your girlfriend pregnant and it's an inconvenience to you...'. I began.

'It's not mine.' He blurted.

'What?' I had to hear it again.

'It's not my baby, mom. She slept with someone else.'