And Many More

by evitascarlett

A oneshot collection of various birthdays in the life of Johanna Beckett. A Johanna Verse story (Apologize/Reflections/Redemption/TuesdayswithJohanna ect). Castle Ficathon 2019 entry.

6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for your reviews!

Chapter 6- Fiery Fifteen-Part 2

The next morning after their tense breakfast was finished; Johanna got up from the table and began to clear away the dishes. "I'm going out," Frankie stated as he pushed back his chair.

"No, you're not," Frank remarked. "We're going to go see your mother."

"I'll see her when she gets home," his son replied. "I have plans."

"No, you'll see her today…you had plans yesterday; that's why you didn't bring the girls home like you were supposed to."

"So now I'm being punished by having to sit in a hospital room all day?" Frankie retorted.

Frank glared at him. "You'll sit in that damn room because it's your mother; you can see your little girlfriend tonight. You won't die from having your head out of her ass for a few hours."

"Fine," he retorted.

"Will you be back in time for lunch?" Johanna asked. "Do I need to make you something?"

Frank eyed her. "What do you mean will we be back? I said we're going to see your mother."

Johanna shook her head. "I'm not going; remember, I'm not to think of leaving this house this weekend because I have to stay home and play Cinderella."

Her father glared at her. "So you're going to be a little smartass and take your anger out on your mother."

"I'm not angry," she replied. "I'm just obeying my father like you always say I should."

"No; you're being a little smart ass because you're mad that I forgot your birthday. Well I already told you I'm sorry, I don't know what you want me to do about it. People get busy, Johanna; the world doesn't revolve around you."

"I never said it did," she retorted. "You're the one who grounded me so I'm doing what you said and staying in the house."

"How do you think your mother is going to feel about that?" Frank asked.

She shrugged. "If she cares about talking to me, she can call, I'll be here…as for the rest; she can take it up with you. I'm just obeying your orders. I do need to know about lunch though."

"We'll eat out after we spend some time with your mother, you selfish little brat. I wouldn't want to put you out by asking you to make some sandwiches later in the day."

"Good," she replied. "It would take up time that I could be using on the laundry."

Frank shoved back his chair as he glared at her. "Just so you know; your waffles were disgusting this morning."

Johanna smirked at him. "And yet you shoved two down your throat without gagging so they must not have been too bad."

"I was hungry," he retorted. "It's not like you made a substantial dinner last night."

Her eyes narrowed. "I didn't know I had to make a five-course meal."

Frank stepped toward her, using his height to try to intimidate her as he looked down at her. "I expect a better meal tonight; and you better lose the attitude or you'll be grounded for another week."

"I don't care," she replied. "I thought you were leaving."

Frank eyed her. "Are you anxious for us to leave?"

"Yeah, I am," Johanna stated. "It'll be a lot easier to get the house clean if all of you aren't in my way."

"Uh huh…what are you trying to pull?"

"Nothing!" she exclaimed. "You told me I had to stay home this weekend and clean so I'm doing it! What do you think I'm going to do?"

"I never can tell with you," her father retorted. "I don't put anything past you."

"I'm not doing anything but what you told me to do!" she yelled.

Frank stabbed a finger in her direction. "Don't you raise your voice to me, young lady; you keep it up and I'll slap that smart mouth of yours and then you'll have something better than a damn birthday to cry about."

Johanna glared at him. "Have you left yet?"

"We're leaving," he snapped. "Colleen, get your coat on and don't you dare even try to say you're not going."

"Don't hurry back," Johanna said as her sister left the room without a word.

Frank eyed her seriously. "You better be here when I get back; because if you're not…you better be in church asking God to help you when I find you."

"I'll be here," she retorted. "I know what happens to runaway slaves; I learned all about it in history class."

He jabbed her shoulder with his finger. "You're asking for an attitude adjustment, little girl; so you just keep it up and you're going to get it."

"I'm not afraid of you," Johanna murmured.

"You better get afraid; I've just about had it with you. It's barely eight-thirty and you're already on my last nerve. I know you're pissed off at me for yelling at you, for grounding you, not letting you go with your friends and for missing your birthday; but things happen, Johanna; you have to learn to get over it and act like a lady not a spoiled little brat."

Her jaw tightened. "Goodbye, father."

Anger flicked across Frank's face. "Don't call me that, you know I hate when you do that!"

"Dad!" Frankie yelled; "Are we going or are you going to spend all day yelling at the brat?"

"We're going," Frank yelled back. "Johanna, lock the door behind us and don't even think of having your friends over because I will ask the neighbors if they saw anyone around."

"I don't want anyone here," she remarked as she followed him to the door. "I want you all to go so I can be alone!"

"Fine," her father said as he stepped outside. "Be alone!"

"Thank you!" Johanna exclaimed as she slammed the door shut and locked it before leaning back against it. She breathed deeply…she just needed to be alone for awhile; needed peace and space…needed to pretend that she was on her own. It would be years before she could have her own place; but at least she could pretend for a little while. Maybe that would be her gift to herself.

---

Naomi McKenzie smiled as her husband and children entered her hospital room. Her head felt clearer today but she took a second look at the group filling into the room. No, her eyes weren't fooling her, she was missing a child. "Where's Johanna?" she asked.

"At home being a little brat," Frank said as he kissed her cheek.

Naomi sighed. "What role did you play in that?"

"She's the one who's had a burr up her ass," Frank stated; "Not to mention her attitude problem."

"She's mad because she got grounded and lost her allowance," Frankie stated as he flopped into a chair.

"Yeah," Colleen agreed; "And because everyone forgot her stupid birthday."

Naomi's eyes widened slightly. "Her birthday? Oh my God, Frank; what's the date?"

"Today is February fifth."

"How could you let this happen!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't you remind me yesterday?"

"Naomi, you were still groggy from the medication; I'm not sure you knew half of what I was saying."

"Well you weren't medicated; what's your excuse?! How could you forget her birthday?!"

"I've been busy," he snapped. "I have to worry about my wife lying in the hospital and go to work and run a business and then go home and deal with those three hellions every day. It slipped my mind. She'll get over it."

Naomi squeezed her eyes shut, imagining how disappointed her daughter must have been to have nothing special for her day. "Frank," she muttered; her soft tone carrying an edge.

"I told her I was sorry," her husband stated. "She doesn't believe me of course but she can't say I didn't tell her."

"She's probably angry with me too," she stated. "I hadn't even gotten her a gift yet."

"You were sick," Frank replied. "It's not like she's lacking for anything."

"I wanted to get her those boots she wanted."

"She's got boots."

She sighed a little. "The boots that are all the rage with young girls now."

"She doesn't need Go-Go Boots."

"She may not need them but she wants them, Frank; she doesn't ask for much."

"If you think I'm going out and try to figure out what size to buy her, you're wrong. You can buy the damn things when you're well enough to shop."

"Oh of course; I wouldn't want you to have to find your daughter a gift; it's so much better to let her have nothing."

"Don't worry, Naomi; I'm still the one she hates," Frank stated. "You'll still be the good one in her eyes; don't worry for a single second."

"It's her birthday, Frank; she should've had something! Did you at least get her a cake?"

"No," he answered; "By the time Colleen flapped her gums it was too late to do anything about it."

Naomi glanced at her youngest child. "Why didn't you tell your father that it was your sister's birthday?"

Colleen shrugged. "Because she wanted to go out with her friends for her birthday and she said I couldn't go…so that's what she gets…she didn't get to go out either."

"For God's sake," Naomi muttered. "Well you all better make it up to her today. You go buy her a cake, Frank; and take her out to dinner."

"She's grounded," he replied. "She's not to leave the house; although I offered to let her come visit you."

"What did you ground her for now?"

Frank explained the events of the day before with Colleen and Frankie adding in their commentary as he did so. Naomi sighed deeply when they finished. "I'm ashamed of all of you."

"What for?" Frankie asked. "We didn't do anything."

"You did plenty," Naomi said sharply. "If you had done what you were told and drove your sisters home, half of this trouble wouldn't have started. As for the business at school; how dare you take the word of your friend over the word of your sister!? How dare you let some boy humiliate her like that! You weren't there when the conversation happened so you had no right to believe him over her or to embarrass her further!"

"Dad's the one who called her a tramp, not me," Frankie replied.

"I'll deal with him in a minute," she snapped; her gaze shifting to Colleen. "And you, young lady; I have told you time and time again that you don't get in the car with anyone unless it's me, your father, brother, or grandfather; or when you're at your Aunt's, Bridget and Uncle Will; unless you have permission. Your sister did what she was supposed to do; she stopped you and you used your mistake to make trouble for her. Well guess what, little girl, you're grounded for a week for disobeying me, because you know better than to try to get in some boy's car, especially alone!"

"I'm already grounded for three weeks for the school stuff!" Colleen cried.

"Well now it's four!" Naomi said tartly; "And since you can't be trusted, your brother will be picking you up every day and driving you home…and if he doesn't pick you up like I've told him to, he will no longer have a car."

"You can't do that!" Frankie exclaimed.

Naomi narrowed her eyes at him. "You just watch me," she said; her tone low and clipped. "While you live under my roof, you'll do what I say and I said you're picking her up from school. The first time you don't pick her up because you're off with that trashy Tanya Hartley, I'll be waiting on you at the door when you get home and I will be collecting your keys; so you just try me, Franklin; you try me once."

Her son's jaw tightened as he glared at her for a moment before glancing to his father. "I'll be in the waiting room," he said before storming from the room.

"You go too, Colleen," Naomi said. "I want to talk to your father alone for a few minutes."

"Fine," she huffed as she stormed after her brother.

Frank sighed. "This doesn't seem to be the visit we had intended on."

"I guess not when you're letting everything go to hell," Naomi stated. "Good lord, Frank; it's only been a few days and it sounds like everything is falling apart. I better get out of here soon or I'll probably go home and find that I'm one daughter short because I don't put it past her to try and take off if you push too hard."

"If she does, she better hope she hides really well because when I find her, I'll blister her ass for her and slap her in that all girls boarding school in Vermont."

"Over my dead body," Naomi declared; "And if I ever hear you call either of our daughters a tramp, I swear to God, I'll punch you right in your mouth! How dare you say that to her!"

"Teach her not to throw herself at boys and I won't have a reason to call her that," Frank retorted.

"Were you in the school when this conversation happened?" Naomi asked.

"No."

"Then you don't know what really happened; you just automatically brand her the liar and take the word of the boy."

"Why would he lie?"

"I can think of plenty of reasons. Why would Johanna lie?"

"To save face because he didn't want her," Frank retorted. "She's a teenage girl, Naomi; you know they like to get bold sometimes."

"My daughter was raised right and if she says she didn't ask that boy to kiss her than I believe her…and it would be nice if her father would've believed her. You taught her a really nice lesson, Frank; you've now taught her that men can lie about her and you'll believe them over her. That's such a nice thing for a young girl to discover…especially on her birthday! It's bad enough that you called her a tramp; but it's even worse that you did it on that day!"

Frank blew out a breath. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"No; it's not okay! You didn't need to ground her; I know she has an attitude at times but based on everything I've heard about yesterday; I don't blame her for getting smart with you. You took everyone's word but hers and gave her some stupid nonsense about embarrassing us by accepting a ride home from that officer. Well I'd rather my girls come home in a police car than have Colleen out with a seventeen year old boy who could've done God knows what to her, and I don't give a damn if he's Frankie's friend. I've never liked him and I don't doubt for a minute that he was up to no good but you couldn't take that into consideration; no, all you could think about was yourself and your embarrassment. All she wanted was to go out with her friends and you should've just let her go, Frank…you bait her every damn time and as soon as she comes back at you, you ground her. You take her allowance. You took her cheerleading tonight and now she'll be punished by her coach for that; and for what? What did she really do to deserve all that? So she mouthed off to you…Frankie does it all the time and you don't ground him. So she said something to her sister that she probably shouldn't have…Colleen shouldn't have been so vindictive and then maybe she wouldn't have called her what she did. You find out it was her birthday and instead of trying; instead of saying you'd make it up today, you do nothing…you prove to her that she doesn't matter to you. You just give her a blasé apology and expect her to get over it…well she's a teenage girl, Frank; she doesn't just get over it.

"Apparently that trait never leaves," her husband stated.

Naomi glared at him. "You listen to me, Frank McKenzie, you better do something to make this birthday up to her."

"Like what?"

"Figure it out!" she yelled. "For once in your damn life, figure out what to do in regard to her. I don't want to hear excuses; just figure it out and do it! Make this better, Frank…don't just brush it under the rug because you don't think it's important. Do something."

"What the hell am I supposed to do, Naomi?" he spat.

"I told you; figure it out."

Frank clamped his lips shut, not wanting to argue further with his wife; not when any number of doctors and nurses could be in the hallway listening to every word they said. Instead he resigned himself to the idea of trying and gave a stiff nod…he didn't have the faintest idea of what to do, but he'd have to try to do something.

---

Johanna rubbed her fingers across her forehead as she made her way back downstairs that afternoon. She hoped the Midol would kick in soon and ease her headache and cramps. She sighed as she reached the bottom step; even the universe was ganging up on her; her period had arrived five days early and she wasn't sure if she should be worried about that or not. She was used to being late occasionally; her mother had told her to expect that at times but she hadn't ever mentioned being early…and of course she wasn't there to ease her mind. Johanna bit her bottom lip as she stood at the bottom of the stairs; she couldn't even call her grandmother and ask her; she was away in upstate New York tending to her own mother…she couldn't bother her with something like this…and she surely couldn't mention it to her father. Her eyes stung as tears pooled in her eyes but she shook it off. It would be alright…if nothing else, she could always ask the school nurse Monday morning, surely she'd be able to tell her.

She breathed deeply and exhaled; there was nothing she could do about her period; it had to run its course as usual…but at least its arrival meant that she no longer felt badly about missing the game tonight. She didn't feel like cheering now…but she also didn't like the thought of being benched for the next game…and she was officially benched now. The Coach hadn't been too understanding of her plight; in fact she had implied that she thought she was making the whole thing up just so she could go out with friends since it was Saturday instead of the usual Friday night games. It seemed like she was in trouble everywhere she went this week, Johanna mused; but there wasn't anything she could do about the Coach and her punishment either. She still had chores to do however.

So far Johanna had accomplished cleaning and scrubbing the kitchen; she had changed all the bed linens and had cleaned the upstairs bathroom. She refused to clean Frankie's room…and she'd be damned if she cleaned up Colleen's half of their room. She had straightened her mother's side of the master bedroom but hadn't touched her father's side, other than to dust the dresser. She had cleaned their bathroom after a short debate about whether she should or not but she wasn't anxious to be yelled at again. She hadn't dared to touch his office. The first load of laundry was in the washer and the rest was sorted and in baskets in the basement. She still had the living room to clean and dinner to make. She wished she could take a break…revel in the peace of having the house to herself…watch what she wanted on TV; which she did have the TV on but she couldn't give it the attention she'd like when she was busy cleaning. She sighed; it would be nice if she could just stretch out on the couch, watch TV…vegetate for awhile without anyone to bother her.

But she had to get her list of chores done…they'd be home in time for dinner if not sooner.

Another sigh crossed her lips and she turned to head to the kitchen to get the cleaning supplies she'd need to clean the living room but then the phone rang, drawing her back to the stand beside the sofa. "Hello?" she answered.

"Hello, Bambina," her mother said, her soft voice floating across the line.

"Hi, Mom," Johanna murmured.

"I was disappointed not to see you this morning."

"I'm sorry…I just…"

"I know, dear," Naomi replied. "I hear you had a pretty bad day yesterday."

"Yeah; you could say that."

"I'm sorry I missed your birthday," her mother stated. "You know I'd never do that on purpose, don't you?"

"I know, Mama," Johanna said softly. "You've been sick…it's not your fault."

"I promise that as soon as I get out of here, I'll take you out to get your gifts."

"It's okay; you don't have to worry about it."

"Don't be silly; I won't rest until you have your gifts…you're my baby, you need to be celebrated, even if it is a little belated."

Johanna raked her hand through her hair. "Can we go just the two of us?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Yeah…I know Colleen will get mad…but just this once, can't it be just us?"

"Yes," Naomi replied softly. "When I'm deemed well enough; we'll take a Saturday and go off, just the two of us; shopping and lunch and I'm sure we can find a Katharine Hepburn movie playing somewhere in this city; and if not, then we'll just find some other movie. How does that sound?"

A small smile touched her lips. "It sounds good."

"I'll get you those boots you wanted."

"The white ones?"

"Yes, Bambina; the white ones. Is there anything else that's special that you want?"

"I saw a pair of sunglasses I like," Johanna replied. "They don't cost much."

"You shall have them," her mother said warmly; "And a few dresses for spring."

"When are you coming home?"

"I don't know yet, darling; I hope it's soon."

"Me too," she murmured.

"I heard about the, um, Joel incident."

Johanna closed her eyes, feeling her cheeks warm. "I didn't ask him to kiss me!"

"What exactly did happen that led to this story that you did?"

Johanna explained what had happened at school and what she had said in response to Joel's remark.

"I see," Naomi said when she finished; "But, sweetheart; your response could be construed in a way as you wanting him to kiss you."

"I don't want him to kiss me!"

"You asked if he was volunteering…you can't say things like that to a boy; especially a boy like Joel…you might not have meant it that way, but boys don't think the way we do. They think we always mean it their way. You have to be careful with your words, Johanna; it's things like that that can have the whole school talking about a girl."

"So you're calling me a tramp too?"

"No, I'm not!" her mother said sharply; "And your father better never say that word to you again either. I'm saying that you need to be mindful of what you say; you don't want to end up with a reputation that you don't deserve. You're a nice girl; you don't want people talking about you. I know you're at the age where you're interested in boys and I can understand why you'd have a little crush on your brother's friend but…"

"I don't have a crush on him!" she yelled. "Can anyone in this family ever believe me just once!?"

"Johanna…"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I don't like him; I'm only nice to him because you make me be nice to everyone! I don't have a crush on him."

"Alright, you don't…but if you did; I think it would be wise to look for a boy in your own grade."

"You don't believe me; you're just like Dad!"

"Now let's not go there," Naomi remarked. "If you say you don't like him, then I'll believe that."

"I don't like him! I do like a boy in my own grade but he doesn't even notice me, so now you know, okay!?"

Naomi was quiet for a moment. "What boy is this?"

"I'm not telling you. I'm telling anyone," she said tearfully.

"Then how can I help you get him to notice you?"

"He'll either notice me or he won't, I'm not saying anything to him. Apparently girls can't say anything."

"Oh my," Naomi sighed; "Are you in a mood today?"

"Yeah, I am, so I guess I'll hang up because I have to finish cleaning your house and make dinner for your husband…and then clean the kitchen again and do more of my homework and then I'll probably have to make sure Colleen's done her homework and send her to bed since I've been told I'm her substitute mommy when you're not here," Johanna said sharply.

"Well, Johanna, you are the oldest girl," Naomi said gently. "The oldest daughter is always expected to take on the role of lady of the house when her mother is absent."

"Yeah, I know; I already heard," she said bitterly. "It would be nice though if just once Colleen didn't get off the hook. She could stick her precious hands in the dish water once in awhile."

"You know I've been teaching her to do the dishes; she's a difficult student, you weren't."

"So I get punished for having a brain?"

"Your sister has a brain too."

"She's failing math."

"I know, I heard…I also heard how that fact was discovered so you shouldn't be surprised that your sister isn't volunteering to help you."

"It must be nice to be Colleen," Johanna said. "Even when she's in trouble she's excused."

"She is not excused!" Naomi stated; "And you better drop your attitude or you won't be getting those boots!"

"I've got to go," Johanna replied, tears clogging her throat. "I've got stuff to do."

"No; you tell me what your problem is, right now, you tell me."

"Everything," she replied. "Nothing's ever fair here; I have to do all the work while you're away and no one ever helps. All I get is yelled at and told I'm wrong about everything. Some stupid boy lies about me and nobody believes me; I try to keep Colleen from getting in his car and Dad gets mad because a cop brought us home. I'm never allowed to get mad about anything because then I'm grounded for 'having an attitude'. I can't go cheer tonight because Dad said so and I had to call my coach and tell her and listen to her act like I'm lying and now I'm benched from the next game. I wanted to go out with my friends last night for a piece of pizza and to skate and I don't get to do that. My own father forgot my birthday and he's not sorry. My brother hates me and my sister gets on my nerves because I have to have her with me every second of my life it seems like. It's all of them against me and I never win and you're not here!"

"Alright," Naomi murmured; "Alright…I understand, you're frustrated; your father wasn't fair with you; your brother was mean, he sided with his friend instead of you like he should have. Colleen was in the wrong for trying to get into that boy's car and I grounded her for a week when she was here. I know you get tired of her being your shadow…but one day you'll miss her when you're all grown up and you don't see each other all the time. You have to understand, she loves you; and I know you love her and that she doesn't make it easy at times…but you have to understand, she doesn't know how to let go of the way things used to be when you were both small and those two years difference between you didn't matter. I know you're having a hard time…you're growing up and it's exciting and scary and stressful…I know you struggle sometimes, that you're unsure of what you're supposed to do and that you lash out when you can't find any other way to let people know how you're feeling. I know that you think no one listens, but I do…and I know, I'm not there and that it's hard for you to not have me there to help fight your battles…but sweetheart; one day you won't have a choice but to go at things on your own; not that that means I won't support you or try to help you…but one day, it's going to happen…and one day a very long time for now, I won't be…"

"Don't say it!" Johanna cried. "Please don't say it."

Naomi swallowed the words. "There's no need to think of that right now…but you are growing up, Bambina; when you've got things on your mind, you're just going to have to find a way to make people listen…even if that person is your father. He'll listen."

"Yeah, sure," she sniffed as she swiped angrily at the tears on her cheeks.

"You and your daddy are too much alike," Naomi stated. "That's why you don't get along."

"I'm not like him!"

"Oh, sweetheart; you have a healthy dose of Frank McKenzie in your veins; it isn't a bad thing…it just makes it difficult for the two of you to connect the way you need to."

"He only cares about Frankie and Colleen."

"That's not true; your father loves you very much."

"He's got a funny way of showing it," Johanna retorted. "He told me my waffles are disgusting…and he didn't like dinner yesterday…nothing I ever do makes him happy."

"It'll be alright, honey," she soothed. "I'm sure your cooking has been fine; I taught you everything you know…he's just being picky because he misses me."

"No, he just hates everything I do so I don't know why he's making me do it."

"Darling, listen, tonight make lasagna, the breadsticks, and a nice salad. You make those things very well and I'm sure your father will be pleased with that, okay?"

"Okay," Johanna replied softly; at least that was something that didn't need constant attention.

"Anything else on your mind?"

She hesitated for a moment and then decided to lay out her newest worry. "My period came early…is there something wrong with me?"

"How early is it?" Naomi asked.

"Five days."

"You're fine, baby; those things happen sometimes."

"You always say it can be late," she reminded her.

"I know; but it can be early at times. They rarely ever stay on a perfect schedule, Johanna; you'll find that out as the years go on. You started at thirteen and that first year your cycle was questionable as I told you it would be. Now you're fifteen and it's pretty consistent but you can still expect to be late at times…and even early at times."

"What makes it come early though?"

"It could've been anything," her mother replied. "It might just be the hormones this time…but I have a feeling that the main culprit this time is stress. You've got school and you're upset that I'm away, you were very upset yesterday and you're still upset today…you had a lot of stress this past week; it brought it on a little early but it's nothing to worry about. You're fine. Take the Midol and lay down for a little while."

"I can't, I have too much to do."

"I said you can," Naomi remarked. "Now you go lay down and take a little nap and I'll talk to you later. I love you."

"I love you too," Johanna replied before they said goodbye. She hung up the phone and glanced at the couch before forcing herself to head to the kitchen. She had to finish cleaning…she had to get things started for dinner; she'd have to change the laundry soon. There wasn't time for her to take a break.

---

It was a little after three-thirty when Johanna heard the front door open and voices filling the entry way. She frowned as she glanced at her mother's recipe book, double checking how long the pan of lasagna she was preparing should be in the oven. It needed to bake for an hour; which meant it would finish a little shy of their normal dinner time but she could let it cool while she made the salad and poured drinks. It would work out fine…and if they ate a few minutes early, who cared? All that meant was that she could get to the clean up faster.

"Johanna," her father called out.

"I'm in the kitchen," she answered as she finished sprinkling the cheese on top of the lasagna.

"Come out here," he bellowed.

She rolled her eyes. "Just a minute. I'm putting dinner in the oven."

"Fine, I'll just come to you," Frank said gruffly; silently ordering his other two children to follow him.

Johanna slid the pan in the oven as they came into the room and she carefully set the kitchen timer before she turned to face her father as he sat a pink box on the table. "I got the cleaning finished," she stated. "I'm still working on the laundry but it'll be done soon."

"Did you vacuum?" he asked.

"Yes."

"There's still lint on the carpet in the entry way," Frank stated.

Johanna's heart fell a little; apparently there wouldn't even be an attempt of halfhearted praise that she had gotten nearly everything done before he got home. "I'm sorry," she murmured, hating that she felt so emotional about it. "I'll do it over."

"The kitchen doesn't look as clean as it could."

Her jaw tightened. "That's because I'm making dinner…I did scrub the floor and clean everything. After dinner, I'll be cleaning the counter and washing the dishes again."

Frank nodded. "Did you have any guests over?"

"No, I didn't."

"Good," he replied. "Open the box."

Johanna moved to the table and untied the string on the box, smiling a little as she lifted the lid and caught sight of a cake…but then her smile faded as her siblings burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?" Frank demanded to know.

"They spelled her name wrong," Colleen giggled.

"They got her age wrong too," Frankie laughed.

Frank looked at his silent middle child and then glanced at the cake she was staring at. "Happy 4th Birthday Joanna'. He squeezed his eyes shut. "I told them, J-O-H-A-N-N-A!" he exclaimed. "This is your mother's fault for spelling your name that way!"

Johanna nodded. "Yeah…I guess it kind of is…people do spell it wrong all the time," she murmured.

"And I told them fourteen, not four," her father stated. "I specifically remember saying fourteen."

Frankie laughed harder as Johanna allowed the lid to fall, concealing the cake from view. "I'm fifteen, Dad," she remarked.

"No, you're not," he replied.

"Yes, I am."

"You're not; you're fourteen!"

"Dad; I'm fifteen!" she exclaimed. "I'm almost finished ninth grade!"

Frank shook his head. "I know how old you are!"

"Dad, I was born in 1951!" Johanna nearly yelled. "It's 1966, that makes me fifteen…Frankie will be eighteen, I'm three years younger than Frankie; Colleen will be thirteen in April; I'm two years older than Colleen. I'm fifteen!"

Frank glanced at his son who nodded. "She's fifteen, Dad," Frankie stated. "I do know that for sure."

Great, Frank thought to himself…he not only forgot her birthday, he botched her age as well and brought her home a cake that he hadn't taken the time to examine at the bakery to make sure everything was correct. Yeah, this fatherhood thing was going really well, he thought sarcastically. Why the hell had he ever thought he'd be able to do this? What the hell had possessed Naomi to think that he could figure this out without her writing him detailed instructions?

"I'm sorry," he stated as he glanced at his daughter.

Johanna shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets as she avoided his gaze. "It's okay," she said softly. "I can scrape the writing off the cake."

"I'll get another one tomorrow," Frank replied.

Johanna shook her head. "Bakeries are closed on Sundays…you don't have to worry about it."

He sighed deeply; he had disappointed her once again. "We've got presents," he said, trying to interject lightness into his tone. "Sit down; we'll give you your presents."

She sat down on the kitchen chair he pulled out for her; wondering if this could possibly go well when she had already been given a cake with the wrong age and misspelled name. Her father handed her a small box and she opened it, revealing a necklace with a charm in the shape of a cheerleader's megaphone. She already had a necklace like this…her grandfather had given her one for Christmas, only he had her name engraved on it. She forced a smile to her lips though, she couldn't tell her father that she already had one…after all, it would just be more proof that he didn't pay any attention to her given the fact that she had been wearing the necklace that Patrick McKenzie had given her nearly every day since Christmas. She was glad that it was tucked beneath the neck of her shirt…she had slipped it under while cleaning so it wouldn't get caught in anything. "Thanks, Dad; it's very pretty," she told him.

"You already have one of those," Colleen exclaimed. "Grandpa gave it to you for Christmas."

"It's not like this," Johanna said, giving her sister a sharp look.

"Yeah, it is," Colleen said, her fingers finding the delicate silver chain around Johanna's neck and pulling the charm from its hiding place. "See, it's the same charm, Grandpa just had your name put on it."

Johanna sighed. "Can you ever just keep your mouth shut?"

Frank snatched the box from her hand. "You were going to sit there and pretend that you didn't already have one of these necklaces?!" he bellowed.

"It's not exactly the same," she replied. "My name isn't on that one…so technically it is different."

"It's the same damn necklace!" he exclaimed; "You were going to keep it instead of letting me return it to get my damn money back!"

She blew out a soft breath. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings…I wear the necklace Grandpa gave me nearly every day, I didn't want to make you feel bad for never noticing."

Frank snapped the lid of the box shut. "I'd rather know the truth! I don't need safe guarded from the truth! I'll get you something else. Colleen, give your sister her gift from you."

Colleen handed her the bag her gift was in and Johanna pulled out the record album that was inside, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Colleen; you know I hate this band," she said firmly. "I've told you a million times that I hate them."

"I thought you were joking," her sister lied.

"You know I wasn't! They are one of the most annoying bands on earth!"

"Well I like them!" Colleen exclaimed; "And if I have to listen to your records, I want it to be something I like!"

Johanna smiled and handed the record to her. "Here you go, Happy Birthday two months early, Colleen."

"Really? I can keep it?"

"Please do," she told her; thinking to herself that it wouldn't last long…she'd let Colleen listen to it once or twice and then that record would have an unfortunate accident.

"Colleen," Frank snapped. "Why did you buy your sister something you knew she didn't like!"

"I thought she'd change her mind," his youngest child said with a shrug as she read the back of the album.

He glared at her but it went unnoticed and so he shifted his attention to his son. "Frankie; give your sister her gift from you."

Frankie smirked at his sister as he handed over the bag he held. Johanna opened the bag and pulled out the small package, discovering a set of lipsticks. "Oh, this is that new set I read about in the magazine," she said, a small smile touching her lips as she studied the item.

"Yeah; I thought you might need some lipstick so you'll be ready when you ask the next guy to kiss you," Frankie said with a laugh.

Her smile faded; fury and embarrassment rushing through her veins as she eyed him. "Why don't you give it to Tanya, that way at least she'll have something on when she's laying in the backseat of your car!" she yelled as she hurled the item at him.

The lipstick set bounced off his chest and he laughed as they fell to the floor. She couldn't take another second of being in that room with them, Johanna thought to herself as she got up from her chair and ran from the room, bounding upstairs to her room and slamming the door shut.

Fury was written across Frank's face as he turned toward his children. "I asked one goddamn thing of you two," he stated; his tone low and even. "I asked you to get your sister a gift she would like…but could you do that? No…no you couldn't do that one little thing. You had to give her something you knew she wouldn't like," he said, jerking the album out of Colleen's hand; "And you are not keeping it for yourself, you little brat. It's going back to the store and I will find her something she will like."

"You're the one who bought her the same necklace," Colleen retorted; "And got her age wrong."

"I know that!" he yelled. "Do you think I need you to point it out, you little twit? You're the most selfish little girl I've ever seen in my life. Your sister buys you a gift every year; something she'll know you'll like and you can't even return the favor because you're too busy being petty about the fact that she doesn't like to have you up her ass every minute of her life. Well guess what, Colleen; she'll be leaving for college in three years and you can't go with her! You need to start growing up and quit being such a big damn baby about everything; I've had it! Your little stunt today just got you another three days of being grounded; so now you're up to four weeks and three days…would you like to try for a full five weeks?!"

"No," Colleen cried.

"Quit your damn whining and get this table set for dinner; you couldn't buy your sister a decent gift so tonight you'll be her special little helper. You're setting the table; you're drying the dishes and putting them away."

"I don't want to do the dishes!"

"I don't really give a damn what you want!" he yelled. "I said you're doing it and if you don't; you'll be grounded for six weeks."

"I hate you!" Colleen yelled as she stomped off toward the cupboards.

"Now you've bought yourself that full five weeks," Frank stated. "Congratulations; keep going and you'll be grounded for your birthday."

Colleen grumbled something under her breath but Frank ignored her as he turned toward his son. "And you," he stated; "She probably would've liked your gift if you had kept your big mouth shut!"

Frankie shrugged. "It's not my fault that she can't take a joke."

"You didn't need to make a damn joke," he seethed. "You just had to ruin it…so let's see how you like having things ruined; you're not going out tonight or tomorrow."

"I'm almost eighteen years old; you can't ground me!"

"You want to bet?" Frank exclaimed. "You're still a minor, living under my roof; I'll ground you every other day if I want to. You'll be staying home tonight; and tomorrow you can start working on cleaning out the garage like I've been asking you to do for months."

"This isn't fair!" Frankie retorted. "You're the one who screwed up and you want to punish everyone else. If you hadn't sent us on to the store while you were in the bakery; I could've told you that you got her age wrong…and you ought to know by now that Mom always checks the cakes before she leaves the bakery to make sure they're right. Everyone knows that Grandpa gave Johanna that cheerleading necklace and that she's been wearing it every day since Christmas; all you had to do was ask and we would've said she already had one. It's not my fault you don't know anything about her; you're her father, you're supposed to know all the crap about her but you don't and then want to get mad at us when it blows up in your face. It's not my fault that you don't pay attention to her."

Frank glared at him. "Like you do? You think just because you're nearly eighteen you know it all, boy? You don't know a damn thing about running a company, being a husband and a father to three kids who think they don't have to give you an ounce of respect unless it suits them! Everything you have, you have because of me and don't you ever forget that. Don't you ever stand up and tell me I don't know my daughter; I know more than you do."

"Oh yeah?" his son retorted. "When is her birthday? How old is she? What jewelry does she own? What grade is she in? Do you even know her middle name?"

Frank's eyes blazed with fire. "You keep running your mouth and I'm going to kick your ass for you, son; because I think you might need it."

Frankie shrugged. "You didn't answer the question."

"Her birthday is February fourth and her middle name is Elizabeth in honor of your aunt Bridget. Her eyes are green, her hair is dark brown, she's in ninth grade and her grade point average is higher than yours. Now, Mr. Smartass; I've answered your question and then some…and you'll be staying in until Tuesday now," he said with a sardonic smile. "You'll pick up Colleen from school Monday and come straight home and stay here. Oh, and tonight, after dinner, make sure you take out the garbage."

Frankie growled in annoyance and stalked from the room, nearly colliding with Johanna as she came down the stairs. "I hope you're happy, mouthy; everyone is grounded because of you."

"I didn't do anything to you," she retorted; tears laying in her eyes that she hadn't allowed herself to shed upstairs. "I'm grounded too in case you forgot."

"You deserve it; I don't! I'm grounded because you're a big baby who can't take a joke."

"I can take a joke," Johanna replied. "I've been living with one as a brother for fifteen years."

Her brother glared at her. "I ought to punch you in the mouth."

"Go ahead," she told him. "I'm going to punch you back when you do."

Frankie scoffed. "You think you can take me?"

Johanna's brow arched as her chin jutted upwards. "Yeah; I think I can."

"Bring it on, you little cheerleader," he retorted.

"You're the one who wants to fight, you swing first," Johanna retorted. "Unless you're too much of a chicken to do it."

"That's enough," Frank said as he stepped into the room. "No one is hitting anyone tonight unless it's me beating the asses of all three of you! Frankie, get upstairs and work on your homework until dinner is ready; Johanna, get in the kitchen and tend to dinner; Colleen's in there setting the table and ready to accept any other little job you have for her. I'm going to my office and I don't want to hear a damn word out of any of you until dinner!"

His children went off in the directions he had sent him and Frank exhaled a heavy breath; he must've been crazy to have children…he must've been lovesick and insane when Naomi looked at him that night nearly nineteen years ago with those blue eyes of hers and said "Frank; I want a baby…a little boy; wouldn't you like to have a son?". He should've known he was in deep, deep trouble…he should've known that she wouldn't be satisfied with just one baby…no…they had gotten their son and she had reveled for awhile and then started dropping hints again…"wouldn't it be nice to have a little girl in the house? Wouldn't you like to have a pretty little daughter?" They had their boy and then their girl…and then Naomi had gotten funny and slipped Colleen in on him…there hadn't been any hints for a third baby; she had been far too wrapped up in the two she had and he had breathed easy…but then she had to slip in that third one without warning…and he was still sure it was Sophia Calabrese's fault for putting the eye on him.

Another breath crossed his lips as he headed toward his office; he didn't mind being a father most of the time…but he sure did mind it when Naomi wasn't home…and Sophia was away and unable to step in and take control of the girls. He was completely on his own this time and he hated it. Naomi needed to come home; he couldn't do this. He wasn't any good at it and he didn't want to do it. She wanted babies; she needed to come home and work her mama magic, fix things for Johanna, stay on top of Colleen's math grade and keep Frankie trembling in fear with that sharp look that always gave him pause before he opened his mouth. She needed to come home and take care of him…if her stay in the hospital lasted much longer; she was going to come home to three unhappy kids, a messy house and a drunk husband and he wasn't sure she'd appreciate any of those things. He just couldn't do it; he needed his wife.

---

Johanna felt proud of the meal she had put on the table awhile later; the lasagna had cooked well; she had gotten the breadsticks to turn out and she felt her salad was good. She was hoping her father would enjoy it since he hadn't seemed impressed with the meal she had provided the night before…or the breakfast she had made that morning. She was sure she had gotten dinner right though; her grandmother had taught her how to make the lasagna; but she still had consulted her mother's recipe book to make sure she got everything right. It tasted good…her siblings were eating without complaint…so surely he would like it too.

"You put too much cheese on this," Frank said gruffly, breaking the silence that filled the kitchen.

For the second time in hours, Johanna felt her heart fall as disappointment slammed into her. "I only put a pinch more than Mom does," she said softly. "Sometimes it doesn't seem like it has enough."

Frank eyed her. "So now, at the tender age of fifteen, you think you're more of an expert on cooking than your mother?"

"No," Johanna replied. "I did it the way Grandma taught me…she uses more cheese than Mom does."

"I prefer your mother's way," he stated. "You must have a different definition of a pinch than I do."

"You don't like my lasagna?" she asked, a note of hurt in her voice that she couldn't hide no matter how desperately she wanted to.

"It's not as bad as the waffles were," Frank muttered as he used his fork to pull some of the cheese off of his lasagna. "You didn't toast the breadsticks as long as I like and you put too much dressing on the salad. You've got a lot to learn from your mother. I'll be glad when she's home and back to preparing the food so I can have a decent meal."

Johanna lowered her head, her appetite disappearing as tears pooled in her eyes. It didn't matter what she did; she'd never please him…how long was it going to take for her to learn that? The tears slipped down her cheeks without permission and she forced herself to be silent so he wouldn't notice as she pushed her salad around with her fork.

"What are you crying for!?" Frank snapped; catching sight of a tear as it rolled off her cheek.

"Because I tried really hard!" she cried. "I tried so hard to make something you like and you just always hate it! I don't know why you keep making me cook when you hate everything I make for you!"

"I didn't say I hated it; I said I prefer your mother's version."

"Which is the same as saying you hate it," she shot back. "If you ever liked anything I did, I'd probably die from the shock!"

Frank blew out a disgruntled breath. "Don't get dramatic, Johanna; all I did was tell you the truth; you still have some learning to do. I'm sure that by the time you're ready to be a wife, you'll be a better cook…as long as you keep listening to your mother; but you're not there yet. You're not going to learn if I don't tell you what you did wrong. I don't like a lot of cheese; so to me, this isn't as good as it could have been. The breadsticks could be toasted a bit more; the salad needs less dressing. As for the waffles this morning…just don't ever make them again; that's a lost cause. Now quit your bawling and eat your dinner; you like it, so you eat it."

She swiped at her cheeks but the tears continued to fall. "I like the extra cheese," Frankie stated, his tone somewhat quiet.

"Really?" she asked, glancing down the table at him.

"Yeah," her brother said with a nod, showing her his empty plate. "Can I have more?"

She nodded, managing a small smile for him as she got up and grabbed his plate, taking it to the counter and slicing him another piece of lasagna.

"Thanks," Frankie said as she put the plate back in front of him.

"You're welcome," she replied softly.

"I like the dressing on the salad," her brother said as she returned to her chair. "I didn't have to add more so I could taste it."

Johanna glanced at him once more. "It's Grandma's dressing…I like using a little more of it than Mom does."

Frankie nodded. "Yeah; I like tasting the dressing more than the lettuce…then I can forget that I'm eating a salad. I usually hate the croutons but they're not bad in this because there's a little bit of dressing on them too so it makes them taste better."

"What about the breadsticks?" Johanna couldn't help but ask.

"They're good," her brother stated. "They don't need to be toasted to death to be good."

Frank glanced down the table at his son. "Well look who's suddenly a supportive brother," he said sarcastically.

Frankie's jaw tightened. "I'm not lying to her; I like her food."

"It's just funny how supportive you're being when just a little while ago you wanted to punch her."

Frankie shrugged. "So what? I like the food; just because you don't doesn't mean no one else can."

"I didn't say you couldn't like it," their father spat. "It just seems like a sudden turn of events."

"Whatever," his son stated as he sunk his fork into his second helping of lasagna.

Frank glanced at Johanna. "Well, at least your brother was able to stop your bawling. I swear, you can't say a damn thing to you some days."

Johanna's eyes narrowed as she glanced at her father. "Since my meals don't please you; you can cook tomorrow."

"Don't start your running your mouth, Johanna; I can extend your grounding."

"Go ahead," she said as she pushed her chair back from the table.

"Where do you think you're going?" Frank asked.

"I'm going to start cleaning up," she replied. "I'm done."

"Your sister isn't done and I told her she's supposed to help you," her father stated.

"But I have to do my math homework," Colleen whined. "You said I had to do three more assignments tonight…it'll take me all night if I have to help do the dishes."

He had forgotten that, Frank thought to himself. "Fine; you're off the hook this time but you better have those assignments done by the time I come upstairs tonight."

"I will," Colleen said happily; glad to have gotten out of the dish washing.

Johanna rolled her eyes as she moved to the counter to begin cleaning up the leftovers. "Do you want me to throw the rest of lasagna away?" she asked.

"Well I'm sure as hell not going to eat it," Frank remarked.

"I'll eat it," Frankie stated. "Save it for me."

She nodded and set about putting the leftover pieces away for brother; he might be a jerk but at least he never complained about what she fed him, Johanna thought to herself. At least that was one good thing she could say about him.

By the time she had the leftover food dealt with; her father gave up on his dinner and scrapped it into the trash before putting his dishes in the sink. "I'll be in my office," he stated.

"What else is new?" Johanna muttered before she could stop herself.

"What's the supposed to mean?" Frank asked.

She smirked at him. "It means that you don't have to tell us…we know you're always in there when Mom isn't home. We're not stupid."

"That might be a matter of opinion at times," her father retorted. "If you slice the cake for dessert, bring me a piece."

"I'm not slicing that cake," Johanna retorted; hurt rippling through her as she thought of that cake with the wrong age and her name misspelled…the botched attempt to celebrate her birthday that she was sure her mother had demanded.

"You said you could scrape the writing off!" he thundered.

"Yeah; I can…but I'm not," she yelled back. "If you want it; you slice it yourself. I probably wouldn't do it right in your opinion; after all, nothing I ever do is good enough for you."

"Oh here we go, you're going to pout some more…well I'm not going to stand here and listen to it. I apologized about your birthday. I tried to give you a little celebration, things went wrong; deal with it like everyone else. Yes, I told you that you don't cook as well as your mother; it was the truth, get over it and act like a lady. Now I'm going to my office; put another pot of coffee on so I can have a cup later."

"Fine," she said through clenched teeth as Colleen and Frankie carried their dishes to the sink and fled the room.

Soon Johanna found herself alone; frustration and disappointment stirring in her soul; making her feel a multitude of emotions that she didn't want to feel or deal with. Fifteen just wasn't going to be her year…she could feel it in her bones; it just wasn't going to be her year.

---

Frank was sitting at his desk, listening to the silence of the house as he ignored the papers on the desk in front of him. He was hiding…he could admit that to himself; and he had a feeling that his daughter had been implying that she knew it too. He breathed deeply and exhaled the heavy breath; he had botched things again…and he hated the frustration he felt in regard to it. Frank McKenzie didn't like failure…and he had been failing ever since Naomi had been admitted to the hospital. The phone on his desk rang and he grabbed it before any of his children could make the run for it. "Hello," he said gruffly.

"Frank," his wife answered.

He released a breath. "Hello, dear; is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," she answered. "How are things at home this evening?"

"About as expected. I really hope you outlive me because I can't do this without you, Naomi."

"Frank, don't talk that way," she admonished.

"It's the truth. I'm no good at running a house and dealing with these kids."

"From what I've heard; Johanna's running the house, you're just giving the orders."

"Is that what she told you? You said you were going to call while we were out but she didn't mention any calls."

"Yes, I called…and I know she's our eldest daughter and expected to take over when I'm not home…but she is just a girl, Frank. You're putting a lot of pressure on her and you don't offer any reassurance. She's doing the best she can…did you have to hurt her feelings about the waffles?"

"I didn't like them; she must've done something wrong," he stated. "I'm not going to mollycoddle her; I told her the truth. I didn't know she was going to cry to her mommy about it. I guess that's why she started bawling at dinner."

"What did you do to her at dinner?" Naomi demanded to know.

"I told her the truth; she put too much cheese on the lasagna; there was too much dressing on the salad and the breadsticks could've been toasted more."

"Oh, Frank," Naomi muttered in exasperation. "I encouraged her to make that meal; I told her you'd be happy with it. She was trying to please you!"

"Well she failed."

"What about Frankie and Colleen? Did they eat it?"

"Frankie ate two pieces of the lasagna and all of his salad and four breadsticks."

"He ate all of his salad? That's a first," his wife remarked.

"Apparently he liked that his sister drowned it in dressing so he didn't taste as much of the lettuce. He also stated that he likes extra cheese…and your heir to the throne declared that she made the lasagna Sophia's way because sometimes, she doesn't think you put enough cheese on it. As for Colleen, she cleaned her plate."

"Then I'd say the problem was you, Frank," Naomi remarked. "I don't put a lot of cheese on the lasagna because I know you complain about it…but the kids like cheese…and it's no secret that my mother is the one who taught Johanna how to make lasagna in the first place…so of course she did it that way, I've never told her not to because there's nothing wrong with my mother's way. It's the same lasagna; it just has a little more cheese on it. As for the salad, if Frankie ate it, then I'm all for it since he rarely eats all of a salad. You don't like a lot of dressing…but you know what, some of us do. I cater to you, Frank…apparently your daughter caters to the likes of her and her siblings and as long as they cleaned their plates, then I say she did a good job."

"Johanna didn't clean hers; she started her bawling and got up to clean up halfway through."

"I'm not surprised. Did you get her a cake like I told you?"

"Yeah; and it was a disaster," Frank replied before telling her about the incident with the cake.

"For God's sake, Frank; you're supposed to check it before you leave the bakery!"

"You didn't tell me that!"

"You should know! Just like you should know her age! She's fifteen!"

He huffed a little. "Good; that puts her closer to eighteen."

"And you wonder why she has an attitude with you all the time?" Naomi remarked. "She gives you attitude because of the way you act and the way you treat her. Did you at least buy her a damn gift?"

Frank explained how the gift giving situation went and then cringed a little at her disgruntled sigh. "Really, Frank? You haven't noticed the necklace she's been wearing for months that your father gave her? The necklace that you took a picture of her opening? And what were you thinking not checking Frankie and Colleen's gifts before they were paid for and asking why they had picked what they did?"

"I told you I didn't know how to do this," he snapped. "You should've told me what to do!"

"I shouldn't have to, Frank! You're her father; you should know what to do. You know part of your problem with Johanna is that you don't take any time to spend with her. You don't sit down for five minutes and just talk to her. You talk to Frankie; you talk to him about his plans, his future place at the company, the ideas he has that he's hoping can be used when he joins you…you two talk about all kind of things; but you never try that with your daughters. You never ask Johanna anything about herself…you never listen to her when she's upset or hurt or angry…you just deem it unworthy of notice, yell, ground, whatever. Maybe if you ever took an interest in her, you'd know what to do in these situations. You could've turned this around but instead you did the bare minimum and let it crash and burn again…so I'm telling you again; figure it out and fix it, Frank…because if you don't; she's going to be convinced that you don't give a damn about her and I've spent the last fifteen years trying to convince her otherwise…do your part and prove to her that you can make it better for once. Can you just do that? Can you just think about everything you've heaped on her this week and how you've forgotten her birthday, proved that you don't pay attention…and then critiqued her cooking because it's not up to your standards. She likes to cook and you're going to discourage her from doing it!"

"What do you want me to do, Naomi!?" he exclaimed.

"I just told you," she said slowly. "I told you to think…think about everything that's been put on her shoulders this week; going to school, taking care of the house and Colleen, listening to you critique everything, that boy lying about her, forgetting her birthday, her correct age and then being handed gifts that had no thought or feeling attached to them. You think about how you don't know your own daughter…and then you figure out a way to make this all better. You don't have a choice, Frank; you have to do something besides sitting behind your desk and letting the chips fall where they may."

He sighed heavily. "Can't you just tell me what to do? Can't you spell it out for me?"

"Frank; sometimes you have to figure it out for yourself. Think about her…think about how she's a fifteen year old girl who gets her heart broken easily. Think about how she spends half her life convinced that her father doesn't care about her…that he doesn't like her…find a way to prove to her that you do; that could be the best gift you could give her…and maybe you could find it within you to tell her that you love her and that you know she's doing the best she can to take care of things in my absence."

"I've already heard her dramatics about being the slave girl and Cinderella," he remarked. "She's already told me to leave her alone like I always do; and those are her words not mine. She just wants someone to coddle her…and that's your job because you're the one who has always done it."

"Fine, Frank," Naomi said sharply. "I'll take care of it when I get home; I'll make it up to her…because let's face it, for the majority of the past fifteen years, she's been my kid and mine alone. So I'll make it up to her…I wouldn't want you to have to strain yourself. If this had to happen, I'm glad it was her fifteenth and not her sixteenth; because I will not allow anything to ruin her sweet sixteen next year. Not you. Not anyone. So don't worry; you sit there in your chair and let your daughter feel terrible and I'll pick up the pieces when I get home like I always do…and I'll get Colleen back on track with school and I'll fix your meals to your specifications and you can just sit back and hide behind your newspaper while I do it all like I always do."

"It's not like that, Naomi," he said tersely.

"The hell it isn't," she retorted. "But it's fine; I'm used to it…so just go back to your newspaper or your work and I'll take care of my kids when I get home; because one way or another, I am coming home Monday, I don't give a damn what that doctor says about rest and healing. I'm coming home to my kids and then I'll be able to rest…because I sure as hell can't rest here while worrying about them."

'You'll stay there until the doctor is satisfied that you're well," Frank said firmly. "You know that things were bad when they took you into surgery; your appendix was ready to burst and there was a small indication of infection…which I didn't tell the kids. They only knew that you had a fever. The doctor wants to make sure you're out of danger for infection; so you're staying put. He said he might release you Wednesday or Thursday; and then you'll come home and rest."

"I don't have time to rest," Naomi replied.

"Yeah; that's what my mother always said…look where she's at."

His wife blew out a breath. "I just need to take care of my kids. If my mother was there, I wouldn't worry so much…she would've done fixed everything or kept it from happening in the first place…but she's got her own problems right now. She needs to be with Nona and I need to be with my kids."

"I'm taking care of things, Naomi," he said tersely.

"No, you're not. You're delegating tasks like you do at work and anything you deem beneath notice of management gets brushed aside. You can't brush our kids aside."

"I haven't!"

"It didn't sound that way when I was talking to my daughter this afternoon."

He sighed deeply. "So what am I supposed to do, Naomi?"

"Ease up on her, Frank; quit being so hard on her, she's trying…and you need to try too. Can you just try with her? Please?"

He closed his eyes, hating that pleading note in her tone that always ignited a sense of guilt in him. "Alright…I'll try…I can't promise I'll get it right but I'll try…again."

"That's all I ask," Naomi replied. "Just do something instead of nothing for a change…just try."

---

A short while later, Frank was still in his office trying to figure out what he was supposed to do in regard to his middle child. Why couldn't his wife just give him a clear answer? He was just supposed to figure it out on his own with no guidance. It didn't seem right or fair. He sighed deeply, it seemed like he might be in the same boat with his daughter on that feeling…after all, he was sure Johanna felt that most things weren't right or fair the last few days. Funny how that worked out, he mused.

Frank glanced at the family portrait that hung on the wall across from his desk; the kids were so little on it, he thought to himself. Frankie had been eight, Johanna five, and Colleen three. Good lord, it had been ten years since the photo had been taken. Things had been simpler then; disputes more easily settled, hurts easily soothed with the promise of an ice cream or some little toy. But now it was so much harder. His son was nearly a grown man; he'd be leaving home in the fall, moving into a dorm at NYU. Colleen was entering her teen years, desperate to catch up with her sister and yet also desperate to cling to her babyish ways.

Then there was Johanna...fifteen…not quite a woman and yet not a little girl either. She was caught in between; expected to do a woman's work and deal with the issues of a woman…all the while still being a schoolgirl who wanted to eat pizza and go skating with a gaggle of girls to giggle with about boys and rock bands and whatever else young girls talked about. Why hadn't he let her go when she asked? Maybe if he had just set her free for a few hours Friday night things wouldn't have gotten so bad…but there was nothing to be done about it now; the skating rink would be closed tomorrow and he didn't imagine her friends would be excused from Sunday dinner in favor of pizza slices.

So what was he going to do? Better yet, what would Naomi do? He frowned a little; Naomi would talk to her…allow her to spew all of her overly dramatic teenage angst and then she'd promise her something grand for her next birthday…all the while thinking up a way to give her something better for this birthday. He pushed himself out of his chair; there was no point in putting it off…even if he did believe that it would end up being pointless.

Frank went upstairs first to make sure Colleen was still working on her math and that Frankie hadn't snuck out. Both children were accounted for and made his way back downstairs in search of his eldest girl, expecting to find her at the kitchen table but the room was empty. He sighed, his gaze moving to the back of the kitchen where the basement door was…they all thought he didn't know her, but he did, he mused as he made his way to the door and opened it.

He made his way down to the basement, picking up the soft sounds of the shortwave radio as the dim light of the laundry area greeted his eyes. His eldest girl didn't think that he or Naomi knew that the basement was her hiding place when she was seeking an escape from everyone but he knew more than she thought he did. He found her curled up in the corner of the old sofa, a textbook in her lap as her bare foot tapped against the cushion in time with the song on the radio. She glanced up at him as he approached, annoyance on her face at having her sanctuary breached. "What did I forget to do now?" she asked.

"Nothing," Frank replied as he grabbed a chair from the small table that Naomi used when sorting the laundry or folding it. "I just thought that since you've taken to hiding in the basement that maybe we should talk."

"I'm not hiding; I like it down here," she retorted, her gaze returning to her textbook.

"Why is that?" he asked; "It's kind of dim and drafty down here."

"I've got a blanket if I get cold," Johanna said with a nod at the lightweight blanket at the opposite end of the sofa.

"I see that; but it doesn't answer my question."

Johanna huffed a little. "I like it down here because no one comes down here; if there was a bathroom down here I'd live here."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Seriously?" she scoffed.

Frank shrugged a little. "It's not like you tell me much about what's going on in your head."

"That's because you never want to hear it…or you tell me to shut up…or that I don't have the sense God gave a goose…or whatever else you come up with."

"Well I'm listening now; why would you live down here if it had a bathroom?"

"So I could have some peace!" Johanna exclaimed. "Do you think sharing a room with Colleen is easy? She's always in my space; always wanting to know what I'm doing, where I'm going, who I'm going with, if she can go and so on. I don't have any privacy! Every time I'm in the bathroom her or Frankie is pounding on the door wanting me to get out; I have to take the fastest baths in history; if I want to wash my hair or shave my legs I have to wait until they're both in bed and then sneak over and get my shower so I can do it in peace. Colleen's always trying to take my clothes, my perfume, my makeup. I have nothing to myself! I can't wait to move out of here!"

"You've got awhile to go," her father remarked.

"Yeah, I know; and then I'll be moving into a dorm so I'll still be sharing a room and a bathroom…it's going to be years before I can have my own place to myself."

"You should be grateful for the home you have, the home I provide for you by getting up and going to work every day," he said, a touch of tartness in his tone. "You have a roof over your head, food in your stomach, a mother who coddles you, a sister who adores you, a brother who looks after you…"

"This is why I don't say anything," she interrupted. "You always make it something it isn't. I never said I wasn't grateful; I said I don't have any privacy! You think you punished me today by going off and leaving me home alone? Well you didn't; today was the most peace I've had since I came out of the womb!"

That was probably true, Frank thought to himself as he forced himself to stay silent. He supposed that she didn't have much privacy or time to herself; she had been someone's sister since the day she was born…she hadn't had her own room since she was two years old; probably didn't even recall what it had been like to sleep in that room by herself. She had to share nearly everything she had whether she wanted to or not.

Johanna couldn't stand the weight of his stare as he sat there in silence; most likely judging her, she couldn't help but think. '"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. Add a few more days to my grounding if you want…that's probably why you came down here anyway."

"Is that what you think?" he asked.

She glanced at him. "Well, that's usually the only time you come looking for me…it's either to yell or to tell me to get a move on…I'm sure you're not down here because you suddenly missed my presence."

"I told you, I came down here to talk," Frank replied; trying to find some patience but as his grandmother had always told him, it wasn't one of his virtues.

"About what? How much you hate everything I cook? You found more lint on the carpet? I didn't dry a fork enough? Someone blamed me for something else? What is it? Just tell me and ground me so I can get back to studying my Spanish."

"I'm not here to ground you!" he exclaimed.

"Then what chore did I forget?"

"I told you, you didn't forget anything!"

"Then I don't know why you're here or what you're going to talk about."

"You really think that I only talk to you to ground you or yell about chores?" Frank asked.

Johanna nodded. "Yeah, pretty much…the only other thing is asking me if I got my homework done…which the stuff that's due Monday is done and my English paper is started but I have until Friday to finish it. I just have to study for my Spanish test."

His daughter really thought that he didn't talk to her, Frank thought to himself; but it wasn't true…he talked to her…didn't he? "I guess it's too late for you to make your game tonight," he stated.

"Yeah; it started at six…besides, I called my coach this morning and told her I wouldn't be there. She thinks I'm lying about being needed at home and now I'm benched from the next game…which if they lose and don't make the championship games, it'll be the last one of the season."

So he had cost her the end of her season…maybe he could at least fix that. "After I talk to Colleen's math teacher on Monday; I'll call your coach and explain that you weren't lying to her, that I did need you at home…and I'll ask her to lift your punishment since it was my doing and not yours. Would that help?"

She kept her gaze on her book as she nodded. "Yeah…but I don't know if it'll change anything; she doesn't excuse many things."

"She damn well better excuse this one," Frank stated. "If she doesn't, I'll go over her head to the principal or to her boss at the school board; whatever it takes."

"She'd probably kick me off the team if you went to the principal."

"And then I'd have her job," he remarked. "She'd be sorry, mark my words."

Johanna doubted that he'd really call her coach and explain anything so she merely nodded to appease him, figuring that speaking her opinion wasn't worth getting days added to her grounding.

Frank shifted on his chair, watching as she gave her attention back to her textbook. What was he supposed to say? Should he ask about school or just get right to the birthday thing? He pondered that question for a long moment and decided that he'd rather put off the birthday thing for a little longer…maybe he could form a better plan in the meantime…and people kept saying he knew nothing about his middle child, that he never talked to her…so maybe he had to prove that wrong. "Is…uh…everything going okay at school? I know high school isn't always a picnic."

"It's fine, at least until Monday…I'm sure Joel will spread his lies by then and make me the biggest joke of the whole school but that's okay, right? Because boys always get to do what they want. They get to lie and everyone believes them…and all girls get to hear is 'well you have to be careful with that you say because boys take things in a different way'…or my favorite, being called a tramp."

Frank closed his eyes for a second. "Johanna…"

"Don't," she said harshly. "Just don't…we both know you meant it. You always believe everyone over me. Joel and Frankie can twist everything around and you just believe them," she remarked, her voice cracking. "I've never even kissed a boy and you called me a tramp!"

"You haven't?" Frank asked, relief spreading through him.

"No!" she cried. "The only thing I've ever done is hold hands…and I've danced with boys but I haven't done anything else!"

"Good; that's wonderful; you're a good girl," he said, his relief at the knowledge that his daughter had not yet been tainted by a boy filled him with happiness. "I know you'll want to go out with a boy one day…sooner than I'd like…but you're a good girl, you keep doing what you're doing and you just…you know…don't rush into anything. Hand holding is always a nice, safe thing."

"For tramps like me?" she asked. "Because that's what you called me…you wouldn't even listen, you just believed Frankie and called me a tramp."

"I'm sorry," Frank said, a part of him aching at the hurt on her face. "I shouldn't have said that…I should've listened to your side. It was wrong for me to call you what I did…and it won't happen again."

Johanna scoffed as she swiped at her tears. "Why can't you ever just believe me? Am I really so terrible?"

"No, you're not terrible."

"Then why?" she cried. "Why do you always believe Frankie? He lies to you more than I ever have and yet his word is gold. Why does he get away with everything and I don't get away with anything?"

"I guess it's just different between fathers and daughters than it is between fathers and sons," he replied.

"It shouldn't be."

Frank blew out a breath. "I said I was sorry. I'll try to do better."

"Right; just like the thing with Colleen trying to get into Joel's car…instead of listening, you just automatically make me the bad person. You make me the one who did wrong when all I was doing was trying to protect her. You weren't there; you did see the way he was looking at her or hear the things he was saying and how he was telling her that she didn't have to listen to me. You weren't there…but I was and it gave me a bad feeling. Grandma always says that you should never ignore those feelings so I didn't ignore it and I stopped her…and I'm the one who got in trouble."

"It just seemed like you overreacted when it was someone you knew," Frank replied. "Especially with bringing the police into it."

"I didn't call the cops! He was on patrol and pulled over when he saw us. If you would've called him, he would've told you that. But don't worry; I won't ever make the mistake again. I will never stop Colleen from getting into any car she wants to climb into. I don't care who it is. I'm sick of having to be her keeper; she's your kid, you deal with her. You take her to school and pick her up…because I'm not walking her anymore. I'm walking to school by myself and I'm walking home with my friends. I am done."

"Your brother will be driving Colleen home from school; you mother has made that very clear to both of them; so since he'll be bringing her home, you may as well get in the car too."

Johanna shook her head. "I'd rather walk; let him deal with her for a change."

"You'd rather walk in the cold than get in your brother's car?"

"Yeah, I would…I don't want to have to stand around and wait on him at the end of the school day. I'm never going to go looking for him again; that's how my whole day got ruined in the first place. I was looking for him so we could go get Colleen and come home…but no, I had to run into Joel and Frankie said he wasn't driving us and so we had to walk. If I had just gone ahead and left, none of it would have happened…so I'll just walk."

"That will be your choice," Frank stated. "But it seems like a stupid one when you could be in a nice warm car."

"Yeah, I know how stupid you think I am, Dad. God knows you tell me enough," she muttered as she looked back down at her book.

"I don't think you're stupid…I just sometimes think you do stupid things."

"I think it's the same thing."

Frank sighed. "I know you're not stupid; your grades prove that; you're going to get into a good college. Do you still want to be a lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Johanna glanced at him. "Because it feels right…because I like learning about laws and how they work…because lawyers help people too even though a lot of people don't seem to realize that. I like the idea of helping people make sure that their rights haven't been taken away from them; and if someone has taken their rights, then I can help them make those people be held responsible for it. I like the idea that I can put cases together and argue them…that I can win. I like the idea of working in a law office, of being in a courtroom…helping someone by making things fair based on the law. I just can't see doing anything else. Mom keeps wanting me to be a teacher but I just can't be that…it doesn't feel right…and that stupid guidance counselor thinks I should be a secretary…"

"You're too smart for that!" he exclaimed. "Don't listen to that twit…you can be a lawyer if you want to be one."

"I am going to be one," Johanna remarked. "Just wait and see."

He nodded. "I believe you…I know you can do it."

It was probably the only thing he thought she could do, Johanna mused as she once again gave her attention back to her book, wondering why he was really in the basement with her. She had to have forgotten to do something…or he was going to spring something on her. "I turned the coffee pot on like you wanted," she stated.

"I know, I saw it."

"I hope I made it correctly," she said tartly before she could stop herself.

Frank breathed deeply. "I know I hurt your feelings at dinner…and at breakfast…but you have to know when you haven't done something correctly. You're not up to your mother's caliber yet; you're still young, you'll get there…but I can't just lie to you and act like it's perfect."

"You don't have to act like it's terrible either," Johanna retorted. "It's not like I burned it or anything. I tried really hard to make dinner better like you wanted and you couldn't say one nice thing about it. I spent the whole day cleaning like you told me to and you couldn't say nothing nice about that either; all you said was that there was still lint on the carpet."

"What the hell do you want me to say, Johanna?" he asked sharply.

She shrugged. "I don't know…anything? You could acknowledge that I did what I was told…you could say thank you once in awhile…anything."

"Thank you?!" Frank scoffed. "You want to be thanked for doing your share? When do I ever get thanks for keeping a roof over your head, food in your stomach, clothes on your back? Do I ever get thanked? Does your mother? Who the hell do you think you are that you're entitled to gratitude?"

Johanna said nothing, shame coloring her cheeks. Why did she have to open her big mouth? Now she'd never hear the end of this. All she had wanted was for him to like something she did…but he didn't like anything…especially when it came to her.

"Answer me," he demanded.

"I'm no one," she murmured. "I'm sorry."

"You're damn right you're sorry. No one should have to kiss your ass in gratitude that you lifted a finger to do something around here. You're not special."

"I know," she said softly. "I just…"

"You just what?" Frank retorted; his tone tart and angry.

Johanna shook her head. "Nothing…it's stupid."

"I'll buy that," he remarked.

She bit back the tears that stung her eyes. "Are we finished now? I really need to study my Spanish…Mom always does it with me and she's not here so I need to really focus."

"No, we're not done,' he snapped.

"I'm sorry," she nearly whined. "Please don't add days to my grounding or I'm going to get kicked off the cheerleading squad and it's all I have…no matter how stupid you think it is."

Frank forced himself to take a breath; he hadn't come down here to do battle…and yet battles always sprung up so easily between them. "I came down here to talk about your birthday."

"What is there to talk about? It's over."

"I'm sorry about what happened…and I'm sorry about the cake being wrong…and the gift situation."

Johanna shrugged. "It's fine, don't worry about it."

Frank studied her for a long moment; apparently she had grown up enough to start using the phrase women everywhere used when things definitely weren't fine. "It's not fine…I know birthdays are important to young girls and we botched this one."

"It doesn't matter."

"It clearly does," he replied; "I think it's been a big part of your attitude problem the last few days."

Johanna scoffed. "It's not just my birthday; it's everything around here. It's how I always get treated."

"Listen," Frank said, ignoring her statement; "I'm going to make it up to you; next year for your birthday, I'll throw you one of those big fancy parties that girls have for their sixteenth birthday…sixteen; that's the big one, isn't?"

Johanna scoffed. "Yeah; right."

"I mean it," he said. "We'll give you one of those big parties…you can invite everyone in your class; we'll have it somewhere nice…maybe one of the hotel ballrooms…make it real fancy; you can even get a fancy dress and I'm sure your mother will lend you some of her best jewelry. Your friends will be green with envy."

"Sure, Dad; I just bet you'll throw me some big fancy birthday party."

Frank's jaw tightened. "You don't believe me?"

"No; I don't believe you. You didn't want to buy my cheerleading pictures; Grandpa had to pay for them; so why would I believe that you'd throw me some big fancy party that's going to cost way more than those pictures did?"

"You can believe it because I said so! I'm telling you that I'm going to make things up to you; I know, we all botched this birthday for you…but next year you'll be sixteen and I know that's important to a girl and I'll make sure it's the biggest and best party you ever had, I owe you one."

She scoffed once more. "Right; I just bet that's going to happen…by this time next year, Frankie will be in college and he'll probably need something for school, or Colleen will need to register for her spring dance classes and need new dance clothes, or you'll want a new car and I'll hear the same song I always hear 'you have to understand, Johanna'…because that's always how it is around here, I always have to understand and I'm the one who always get promised things and then I don't get them because Frankie's the oldest and his stuff is always the most important and Colleen's the baby and she has to be made to feel special all the time and I'm just the nothing in between that can always get the shaft. Everyone in this house will have a fancy party before I ever see one…and if I did have one; I'd probably have to share it with Colleen like I have to share everything else. So no, I don't believe a word you say because I know how this works…I'm always last and I always will be."

"That's not true," Frank stated.

"Yes, it is!"

He sighed deeply. "You know it's not…you're just being dramatic."

"Whatever."

"I'm not lying to you, Johanna; next year, you'll have a big sweet sixteen party…whatever you want for it, you'll have."

"Sure, Dad," she said, her tone indicating that she was just humoring him.

Frank sighed. "I promise."

"Okay," Johanna said, her gaze back on her book.

She didn't believe him, he thought to himself…it annoyed him and angered him…and yet he also understood why she didn't think he'd keep his word. There were times when she got the shaft because one of her siblings needed something more…times when he broke promises to her…and most of all, why should she believe him when she felt like he never believed her?

"Josie…what can I do to make this up to you for right now?"

Johanna shook her head. "There's nothing to do; my birthday is over. Just go back to forgetting it; that's what I'm going to do."

"If you could have anything you wanted right now, what would it be?"

"My own apartment," she answered.

Frank smirked; of course she had to pick something he couldn't give her. "You're that anxious to move out?"

"Yeah, I am."

He nodded. "You're in a hurry to get away from your sister?"

"Yeah; and my brother and my father," Johanna replied.

Frank's jaw tightened a little. "I'm glad you didn't sugar coat it and leave me off the list."

"Why should I? You don't want me around…you've never wanted me; so why pretend?"

"I never said I didn't want you."

"You don't have to!" Johanna yelled. "I'm not as stupid as you think, I know you've never wanted me; you don't even like me! You didn't even want to hold my hand when I was a little girl. The only thing I'm good for to you is being your substitute housekeeper when Mom's sick and babysitting Colleen; other than that you don't care about me."

"That's not true! I care about you; if I didn't, I wouldn't be sitting here right now, would I?"

She shrugged. "Mom probably yelled at you for forgetting my birthday."

He glared at her. "You just think you know everything, don't you?"

"It's probably the truth; she probably did get mad at you."

"This isn't about your mother," Frank retorted. "I'm down here because I want to be and I have never, ever said I didn't care about you. I know we have our…difficulties…but it doesn't mean I don't care. It's been a bad week; I was probably harder on you than I should've been. I hurt your feelings about your cooking and by forgetting your birthday but I'm trying to make it up to you."

"I don't know what you want me to tell you to do," Johanna replied. "I don't know anything…and Mom said she'll take me to get something when she gets home, you don't need to worry about it."

"Well I do," he said tartly. "So pick something!"

She sighed deeply, frustration flicking in her veins; she just needed to pick something. "I want to get my ears pierced."

He didn't really like the thought of it but he figured they were her ears, if she wanted a hole punched through them so be it; Naomi's ears were pierced, there was no legitimate reason to say no. "Fine; but you're not letting one of your friends do it. I'll ask Bess if she knows someone who knows how to do it right. I don't want you getting an infection because some teenager didn't sterilize the needle long enough."

"Okay."

"I'll do my best to get someone to do it for you this week," Frank stated.

"Okay."

He breathed deeply; it didn't seem like enough to make up for the week they had been having…the hurt that had been caused. "What's the first thing you're going to do when you have your place?" he asked.

Johanna glanced at him. "I'm going to fill the bathtub with bubbles and take the longest bath of my life. I'm just going to soak in that tub for as long as I want without anyone beating on the door telling me to get out because they want in there. I might even listen to my records while I'm in there and I won't have to listen to anyone complain that it isn't the song they want to listen to. I'm going to wash my hair and shave my legs in peace."

"And after that?"

"Then I'm going to watch TV…the shows I want to watch, and I won't have to hear anyone complain or make fun of them…and I'll eat what I want, when I want."

Frank nodded; could he work with those things? Could he find a way to give her a little reprieve; to let her have some of that peace she sought so badly? He was starting to form an idea but he'd need to clear it with someone else before he mentioned it. "I'll be back," he stated as he got up from his chair.

Johanna sighed. "I'm going to have to start studying in the garage."

"No, it's too cold out there," Frank stated as he made his way back to the steps. "Study while I'm gone…but I'll be back."

"Can't hardly wait," she mumbled, wondering where this was going and if she should be worried.

---

A short while later, after making a few calls, Frank stuck a bow on Naomi's bottle of bubble bath that he had found under the bathroom sink and carried it back to the basement. Johanna glanced up at the sound of his footsteps, forcing herself to suppress a sigh as he neared her.

"Here," Frank said, holding the bottle out to her.

Johanna took the bottle and read the label. "Thanks…I'll save this for my future apartment because I'll never get to take a peaceful bubble bath here."

"You're not using it here; go pack."

Her eyes widened. "You got me my own apartment?"

Frank smirked. "You're not that lucky."

"Then where am I going?"

"Your grandfather's house…he's out of town on business. I can't let you stay somewhere unsupervised so it's the best I can do; Alma's been staying there to keep an eye on things so she'll be there to chaperone so to speak but don't worry, she'll be downstairs and you'll be upstairs in Bridget's old room. You'll like that room…its big; it has a TV and its own bathroom. Your gift from me is your own place until you go to school Monday morning."

It felt too good to be true, Johanna thought as she clutched the bottle of bubbles. "Really?" she murmured.

Frank nodded. "Yeah…you have what's left of the weekend off in name of your birthday."

"But…who's going to cook here?"

Frank sighed. "Me."

"Who's going to wash the dishes and clean?"

"Colleen," he answered.

A smile tugged at her lips. "Good luck with that."

"Oh she'll do it or she won't see her allowance for an even longer span of time."

"Who's going to watch Colleen…you said she's my responsibility."

"Me," he replied; "And Frankie."

"Am I still grounded while I'm away?"

Frank shook his head. "In light of recent circumstances, I'm going to do away with the rest of your grounding. I'll give you money to get the pizza you wanted for your dinner tomorrow. Go pack your stuff, take the portable record player and your records…take the longest bath of your life and do whatever other girl stuff you want to do on your own."

Johanna hesitated for a moment. "Do I still get my ears pierced or is that off now?"

Frank shook his head. "You can get it done as soon as I find someone responsible to do it. Now get a move on, you're wasting your evening."

She smiled brightly as she grabbed her book and ran up the stairs to go pack what she'd need for the rest of the weekend.

---

"I don't know why I can't go!" Colleen exclaimed as Johanna pulled on her coat in the entry way while Frank stood by holding her belongings.

"Because that would defeat the purpose, Colleen," their father retorted. "My gift to your sister is a small reprieve. She's growing up, she'd like some privacy once in awhile…and God knows you rarely ever give her any."

"It's not fair!" his youngest child cried. "She gets to go stay at Grandpa's and do what she wants and I have to stay here."

"Don't worry, you won't be bored," he told her. "Once your homework is done, you'll be helping to keep the house clean and washing the dishes tomorrow."

"I don't want to do dishes!"

"And I don't want to listen to you whine but we both have our crosses to bear," Frank stated. "Frankie, watch your sister while I'm gone; I'm just going to settle Johanna in and I'll be back."

"This isn't entirely fair," Frankie stated. "I'm the oldest, if anyone should get to be alone, it should be me!"

"You have your own room; you have more space than Johanna does. Besides; she won't be entirely alone, Alma's there…and this is my gift to her. So just shut up and deal with it. If you had helped to provide a better birthday for her, maybe it wouldn't have come to this."

"You botch it and we have to pay for it while she gets a weekend getaway down the street?" his son asked.

Frank nodded. "Pretty much; bet you wish you weren't such a smartass now. Are you ready, Johanna?"

"I'm ready," she replied as she grabbed the handle of the small portable record player and her schoolbooks.

"Let's go," he said as he opened the door and stepped outside with her bags.

---

A few minutes later, Frank carried Johanna's bags up the stairs of his father's house and into his sister's old bedroom that she still used when she came to town for a few days. He flipped on the lights, illuminating the room. Johanna smiled as she saw the antique brass canopy bed and the matching vanity. There was a stand that held the TV, a dresser; a comfortable looking white armchair next to a small stand with a lamp. A desk set against one wall and she carefully put her books down on it as Frank sat her stuff on the bed.

"Well what do you think of it?" her father asked.

"This room is beautiful," Johanna said, admiring the wallpaper that had tiny lavender roses printed on it; the lacy curtains and thick, white, plush carpet. It looked luxurious to her.

"Yes…your aunt Bridget has always been your grandfather's princess; she had the best of everything…like this room," he stated as he made his way to a closed door and opened it. "Here's the bathroom."

Johanna smiled as she peeked into the bathroom; seeing the big clawfoot bathtub that awaited her. "It's perfect," she murmured.

Frank smirked to himself a little; only a woman could be thrilled by the sight of a bathroom she didn't have to share with anyone else for a few hours. "I'm glad you like it. Here's money for your pizza tomorrow," he said as he took the money from his pocket. "There's a little extra in case you want an ice cream soda from the drugstore tomorrow…make sure you let Alma know if you're going out. Call if you need anything. I'll pick you up Monday morning and take you to school."

"Alright," she replied as she accepted the money. "Will you be alright with me being here?"

Frank nodded. "We'll be fine."

Johanna shifted on her feet for a moment as she looked up at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. "Thanks for my present."

"You're welcome," he said as he cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Go take the longest bubble bath of your life and enjoy it. I'll see you Monday."

She hesitated for a brief moment and then gave into the sudden urge to hug him.

He didn't react at first, the gesture startling him as he hadn't expected it…he couldn't even remember the last time he had hugged her; but he allowed his arms to wrap around her, holding her tightly for a moment, his hand moving over the back of her head like he had done when she was a baby. She didn't smell like baby powder anymore, he thought to himself; now she smelled like that soft Avon perfume Naomi always bought her. He couldn't swing her up into his arms and make her giggle anymore like he had when she was a toddler. There weren't any new Crayola drawings tacked up in his office at home. She didn't come to him with her problems like she had when she was four…she didn't ask for help with her homework like she had when she was thirteen. He didn't always understand her…he didn't know anything about what a girl felt or went through at this age.

It had been easier when she was little…so much easier…and suddenly, fifteen seemed bigger than it was; that time had passed too quickly and she was too grown up. He held her tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He wished he could slow it down…wished he could slow all of them down; rewind back to when all three of his children had been small and he had better knowledge of what to do. Somehow he had lost his grasp on the knowledge…somehow they had grown much more quickly than he had wanted them to…and he knew there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Frank forced himself to shake away his thoughts as he released her. "I better get home before your brother and sister fly the coop," he told her. "You enjoy your place, Josie."

"Thanks, Dad," Johanna replied. "I'll see you Monday."

He gave her a nod and then left the room, leaving her in the solitude she had been seeking. She breathed deeply, drinking it in, feeling the weight slip from her shoulders as the pressure of being lady of the house eased. For a little while, she could just be…she didn't have to do anything she didn't want. She wouldn't be bossed around or run out of rooms or have to take care of her little sister. For the first time that she could remember, she had no responsibility to anyone but herself.

---

Later that evening, Johanna had a record playing softly and the bathtub full of bubbles, just waiting for her to slip into; but before she could get to the bathroom door, there was a knock at the bedroom door. She frowned and moved toward it; hoping that nothing was going to pop her bubble.

"I'm not intruding," Alma said lightly as the door opened. "I just wanted to give you a piece of birthday cake…you haven't lived until you've ate a piece of cake while enjoying a nice leisurely bath."

Johanna smiled as she accepted the plate. "Thank you, Alma; you didn't have to do that."

"Oh I already had it in the works before your father called, dear. Your mother had called a short while before and asked me if I'd mind making you a cake for your birthday…I heard that your father goofed on the one from the bakery."

"Yeah, he did," she said; her gaze still on the generous slice of white cake that was topped with delicious looking pink icing. "This looks really good."

"I hope you'll like it," Alma replied. "Don't tell your grandfather or your father…but it's your grandmother's recipe."

Johanna met her eye. "You knew my grandmother?"

Alma paused, knowing she had to be careful because if she said too much and Johanna repeated it; Patrick and Frank would be furious. "Yes, I met her a few times," she lied; and she hated to lie about the fact that she had known Sarah Riley McKenzie since she was five years old when her family had moved next door to Sarah's. She and Sarah had quickly became friends…they had been maid of honor at each other's weddings…they had gone through everything from first day of school to pregnancy together…and then she had had to stand by and watch her best friend be laid to rest much too soon…leaving her to do her best to help look after her family; leaving her to grow old without her best friend…to experience grandmother-hood without her to share its joys and sorrows with. Sarah couldn't watch her grandchildren grow up…but she watched for her; at least the three that lived nearby…and today she'd give Sarah's granddaughter who looked more like her with each passing year the cake she had loved so much.

"What was she like?" Johanna asked; pulling Alma from her thoughts.

Alma smiled. "Oh she was very kind and very beautiful like you."

"I wish I could have known her."

"Me too," Alma replied, giving her a soft pat on her cheek. "I know she'd adore you…although I'm sure she adores you from where she is right now. But let's not think sad things; you're supposed to enjoy your gift of having a temporary place of your own so you take your cake and run along and get that bath before the water cools too much. I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

Johanna gave her a smile. "Thank you, Alma."

"You're welcome, dear."

Johanna closed the door and carried her cake into the bathroom, sitting it in a safe place until she stripped off her clothes and sank into that tub full of warm bubbles. She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment before reaching for her piece of cake, sinking her fork into it and taking a bite. Her eyes closed again as the icing hit her tongue; it was divine…and she told herself to ask Alma to give her the recipe so she could tuck it away somewhere safe so she'd have something of her grandmother's that she could make one day when she lived in her own place. She breathed deeply, feeling the warm water lap against her skin; easing the ache she had low in her stomach from her cycle; the scent of her mother's lavender bubbles relaxing her as she listened to Mamas and Papas sing California Dreamin' on the record player as she took another bite of cake.

Now this was a birthday, she thought to herself. There weren't any annoying siblings pounding on the door, demanding she vacate the bathroom. There was no grouchy father downstairs waiting to ground her…there was no dishes to wash, meals to cook or household chores to tend to. She didn't have to do anything but what she wanted to do. She sighed happily; yes, this was a birthday…a belated one but a good one. Fifteen didn't seem so bad when you were submerged in bubbles with good music on the record player and a piece of cake…but she still wouldn't hold her breath for that sweet sixteen party. It wouldn't happen, she was sure of it…but maybe, just maybe she could come back here again and have another little taste of living on her own. For now though she was content; there wasn't any reason to waste time thinking about a party that wouldn't happen next year. She had to stay in the present and drink up every moment of this unexpected gift that her father had given her…because for once, he had finally gotten it right.