A/N: Welcome back to this mess! I'd like to thank for reviewing this story so far and encouraging me to actually stop being lazy and update it. I was going to leave it at the last chapter and just write an epilogue, but why not continue? I hope this turned out good. All the love from me to you! Please r&r.

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Chapter 3: Saturday Afternoons

Audrey was stressed.

Even for Lucy, who was inadvertently unobservant of her parents' body language most of the time, this was unusual. Her mother had a certain way of dealing with things; she usually let things intentionally fly over her head. But since Lucy's little trip and the recent worsening of Jamie's fever, something clicked that set her off.

It was mostly small things. Dropping utensils and sighing in exasperation, pulling away when Daddy touched her— she wasn't acting normal.

And no, Audrey would never raise her voice or hand to her children as other mothers would. Some of Lucy's friends would complain about being yelled at for misbehaving, but she never knew that way of reprimanding. For the Krelborn children, they had to talk it out. And that was far more reprimanding than a shout.

But even now, at her worst, Lucy's mother wouldn't be caught making her children cry. Although she didn't know why, Lucy assumed it had to do with the whole.. touchy past thing.

But why? The curious child had to know. The mysteries her parents held, the mumbling she incoherently overheard in the bedroom beside hers at night, there had to be something. Why did it matter that she went to Skid Row? Why did Momma cry in the car on the way home? Why was the shop blown up? Where was the plant? What was going on?

She needed to ask her mother.

Audrey spent a lot of her day in Jamie's room. It common for Jamie to get sick, it actually happened often, but this time was different. She and Daddy had him go to the doctor twice this week but things still weren't improving.

It was the following Saturday after last weekend's escapades. Lucy huffed and unwound her fingers from the puppet she held. "That's enough Howdy Doody, for now."

William frowned. "Luce!" He dragged her nickname out into two syllables to show his protest. Lucy pushed herself to her feet.

"Maybe later, Willie." She left the room abruptly, heading for the nursery. She passed through the family room and waved to her father, who smiled and adjusted his glasses.

"Where ya headed, Luce?"

"Jamie's room." Her voice lowered.

"I wouldn't go in there, you might get sick."

"Momma's takin' care of him which means she'll get sick, and you kiss Momma so you'll get sick, so I could get sick talking to you right here."

Her father blinked, chuckled, and turned the page in the book he was reading. "Ya got me there, Luce."

Lucy opened the door carefully to avoid creaking. Her mother turned her head to see her and smile, her hand occupied as it rubbed small circles on James' chest. "Hi, Sweetheart." She whispered. Lucy's eyes moved to Jamie. He lay there with his eyes closed, his warm cheeks graced with a red blush. His eyebrows were knitted together in pain, and the hand that wasn't grasping the sheets was resting on Audrey's free wrist. "Whatsa' matta?"

The young brunette walked a bit closer. "How's he doing?"

"Just sleepy. He's gettin' warma but at least he ate something. I'm sorry I haven't been here for ya, Darlin' it's taken up quite a bit of my time."

"It's okay," as the oldest sibling, Lucy wasn't unaccustomed to losing her mom to her brothers. "Can I get him anything?"

Mom clicked her tongue. "A wet rag for his head? That would be real sweet of ya."

Lucy kissed her mother's cheek and left the room. Daddy wasn't on the sofa when she passed by the living room again, but she found him in her retired spot, occupying William. She found her way to the bathroom and turned on the sink, running a rag underneath.

Momma finished with Jamie for the afternoon and hurried into the kitchen to start dinner, while Daddy left William to his own entertainment to help her. When passing by the kitchen to head back to her room, she overheard a conversation.

"You work yourself too hard, Audr," Daddy was cutting vegetables. "Maybe you should relax tomorrow, let me take care of Jamie."

"I'll worry myself to death, Seymour. I wish he'd just perk up, but it isn't improving."

"The flu, maybe?"

"He was vaccinated."

"Maybe it slipped through. Look, he'll get better. Just relax."

"Seymour—"

"Audrey."

They shared a glance. Daddy smiled, which made Momma laugh, and turn back to the meat she was cooking with a smile.

Lucy slipped away and clambered onto the top bunk of her bed, pulling out the book and laying out the old photos again. She took a closer look at the photo of her mother smiling next to the plant. Were those.. teeth? Plants ...don't have teeth.

A chill went up Lucy's spine, but she wasn't sure why.