A/N: To answer a question … Maureen is 28 – she was born in June of 1968 (when Soda was 17, going to turn 18) and this story takes place in 1996. Also, FYI, this plot is based on fact – it was common in the '50s, '60s and even the early '70s for young unmarried women to be sent away to have their babies, and then those babies were put up for adoption. Generally, society didn't see them as fit. It's very hard to believe in today's world.

On with the story. Oh, and I still don't own the Curtis boys. Well, I own Shayne and Will, I guess, but not their dads or uncle.

Chapter 6

Soda had spent almost three hours with Maureen. Breakdown or not, Corinne was going to start wondering where he'd gotten to. He needed to get home, confess to his lie and explain what had happened. Even so, instead of going straight back, he found himself heading to the old neighborhood.

The houses, the Curtis one included, weren't as shabby as they had been 20 years ago. A developer had bought the vacant lot and put up a large, ugly condominium complex, and even though most of the old neighbors had been horrified when the construction started, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The people who moved in – Pony called them "wanna-be Socs" – committed themselves to fixing up the neighborhood and slowly, the property values increased and the criminal element decreased. The old park had been completely redone; new grass, new walking paths, new playground equipment, even a new splash park. Soda had brought Shayne and Liz when they were little. Pony wouldn't go near the place – there were too many bad memories, too many old ghosts that no amount of new paint could erase.

Ten minutes later, Soda pulled up in front of Darry's house. Darry's was still home in a lot of ways. Soda had moved out in 1976 and had only spent a handful of nights there since then. The whole place was new. One summer, he, Darry and Pony had taken down all the walls to the studs and rebuilt the rooms. Darry and his crew had re-roofed and re-sided it and replaced all the windows. The only thing original, they joked, was the foundation and the frame, but it still held the memories of their parents and their childhood.

Soda sat on the top step of the porch. He hadn't thought of Sandy in a long time, but now, having met their daughter, the memories were flooding back. He'd spent a lot of time on the porch that week, thinking somehow that if he watched the corner long enough, Pony would eventually come walking around it. He had been sitting almost in the same spot, with Darry leaning in the doorway behind him, when he announced he was going to marry Sandy.

"You are 16 years old," Darry said flatly. "You are not going to get married."

"You can't stop me."

"I'm your legal guardian. I'm pretty sure I can." Darry swore under his breath. "What were you thinking, Sodapop? Where was your head? This is not why I let you drop out."

"That ain't fair! I'm working. I'm givin' you money," Soda protested. "What, you think we're just hanging out and screwing around? We didn't plan on it, it just happened! It could have happened to you! Hell, it's probably already happened to Dally!"

"Dally don't worry about paying bills," Darry said. "And Dally isn't worried about a boys' home."

"You say that all the time, like it could really happen," Soda said scornfully. "They won't throw me in a boys' home. And if you're worried about the bills, I'll still give you money, I'll still help you."

Darry snorted. "Yeah? How are you doing to do that? How? With a wife and a kid?"

"Is that what you're worried about? That the money will be gone?" Soda shoved himself to his feet, and faced his brother, furious. "How can you think that of me? How can you think I'd walk out on Pony like that?"

"I think you'll have to walk out on Pony like that," Darry snapped. "What do you think babies cost, Soda? Use your head. And if you're married to Sandy, you won't be living here – so what about rent, electricity? A phone to call the doctor if the baby is sick? You have no idea what it takes to run a house, or what it costs, and you sure as hell can't do it on what you make at the DX."

Soda gaped at him. He knew Darry would be mad, but he never thought he'd threaten to throw him out.

"Ponyboy's right about you," he snarled finally. "He thinks you're hard and mean, and he's right. And you know what else? He thinks you hate him." Darry gasped and the color drained out of his face, but Soda went on relentlessly. "He thinks you can't stand him, that you only let him live here because of me. And now he's gone, and why? Because you hit him. It's not that dead Soc, and we both know it, it's because you got pissed off and slapped him. If he's dead, or if he doesn't come back, it's your fault, Darry. It's your damn fault. And now I guess I'm gonna go too, and you'll be alone. Enjoy the fucking peace and quiet."

Soda's words shocked even himself, and as what he had said registered, he burst into tears and fled from the porch, leaving Darry standing stunned in the doorway.

Soda shook off the memories and walked into the house. Darry was sitting at the kitchen table, the Sunday paper spread out in front of him. "Randle got arrested again," he said without preamble. "In Oklahoma City. It's on page 7."

Soda winced. "Drugs?"

"Of course drugs. Heroin this time."

Steve had been drafted and spent almost two years in Vietnam. He'd come back in '71, skinny, mean and with a new appetite for drugs. He'd never been able to shake it or to stay clean for more than a couple of months. No one had been able to help him, not Soda or Gus, the owner of the DX where they'd worked. Steve didn't care enough to try to kick the habit, and none of the Curtises had seen him in almost 15 years.

Darry was sorry Steve turned out to be such a mess, but he was also profoundly grateful that it wasn't one of his brothers in the police log every other week.

"I came by to tell you I'm an ass," Soda said, sitting down opposite his older brother.

"Well, you could have saved yourself a trip," Darry said evenly. "I know you're an ass. It's my boy you have to explain yourself to."

Soda glanced down the hall. "Is he here?"

"No. Back at his mother's." Darry folded the paper neatly. "You want to tell me what happened yesterday, should I try to figure it out, or am I just forgiving you because we're related?"

"That woman who called here looking for me? Maureen Tull?"

"What about her?"

Soda looked at Darry directly and was a little surprised to find a happy grin beginning to spread over his face. "She's my daughter."


It was almost two o'clock when Soda finally got home. As he came through the door, Corinne, Shayne and Liz were all sitting at the table, the remnants of lunch in front of them.

"Hey," Soda said. "Any baloney left?"

There was no answer. Shayne and Liz exchanged a glance and then Corinne said, "Go on. I need to talk to Daddy about adult things."

It was a phrase she hadn't used since the kids were preschoolers, and it made Soda's stomach plummet like he'd seen blue lights in the rear-view mirror. Something bad's happened, he thought, and sat in the seat his son had hastily vacated. "Cory, what's the matter?"

"You know I was with Miranda yesterday," Corinne said evenly. Soda nodded; Corinne and her sister were as close as he was with his brothers. "Her purse tipped over and her wallet ended up under the seat. I drove over this morning to return it to her. So, about 10:30, I went by the station, and you know what I saw? Or rather, what I didn't see? I didn't see the tow trucks missing. And I sure didn't see your truck there."

Shit. So much for getting away with his first and only lie.

"So I would like you to tell me where the hell you've been for the last six hours," Corinne said, struggling to keep her voice from breaking. "And if there's a woman involved, I'd like you to tell me what you intend to do about it."

"Sweetheart, you can't believe I'm running around on you," Soda said.

Corinne just looked at him, biting her lip. She wanted to be brave – hell, she wanted to be furious – but mostly she just wanted to there to be a plausible explanation.

In her wildest dreams, she never could have imagined what Sodapop told her next.