Happy New Year! I hope all of you lovely readers have had a wonderful start to 2013! Here is the next installment! It is a long one, so I hope you have a lovely read. Enjoy! :)

I loved all of the guesses, but I'm pretty sure that no one saw this coming! :) 10 points each to KaRaEa, Silkylove13, LoveMeant2Be and garnetandgold47! Thank you all so much!

Disclaimer: Yeah, tuition for spring was due this month. So, nope, nothing. No ownership.

"How did the barrage happen?" Emily asked, concern in her eyes.

"Well, Derek and I weren't really talking, but there were a lot of questions from other people about what was going on with us. " Casey checked her watch. She would have to leave soon. But she could take a little more time for the sake of her friendship

"That probably didn't help you both."

"Not really. We took it out on each other. It was more of a challenge that neither of us was willing to lose. It was mostly yelling expletives and angry text messages."

"Wow."

"Yeah. He was mad and I was too, but in a different way. I believed that he was torturing me with things he knew we couldn't have. I thought we were on the same page as far as how we were already related. But he didn't care. About the related part. He believed that I was standing in the way of him being happy. With or without me. It wasn't fair to any party involved."

"Yikes." Emily bit her lip. "That doesn't sound like a healthy start to a relationship. Or ending, I guess. "

"It was tense," Casey agreed. "I'm sure our whole family felt it, even if they didn't know what the tension was for. "

Casey stood over the sink, angrily scrubbing one of her mother's fancy glass plates. The set of dishes only ever came out for special occasions and Casey was the only one unafraid enough to wash them. They were plates, for Herman's sake, not ice crystals. And the way Casey was attacking them with the dish brush, one wouldn't think they could have been delicate at all.

She was angry. Not at the dishes, but their owner. Her mother had allowed herself to be conned into hosting a family holiday party. Casey's grandmother had been convinced that she was dying for the past ten years, and at 85, had convinced her daughters that this might be her last Christmas. So, Nana Susan had guilted Nora into throwing a holiday party. Which meant Casey had been forced to return to London.

It was the last place she wanted to be; she didn't need the reminder that Derek was back in Canada or that he was furious with her. She didn't want to spend the holidays remembering him. He wasn't worth it. Remembering him wasn't anyway; it didn't do her any good and usually left her more upset at him than anything else. It was not Christmas-y, but seemed the mood that would taint the season. She let a dish fall back into the water as she pushed her hair off her forehead with her wrist. She felt a tap on her shoulder and braced herself, not turning right away. If it was her Nana again, telling her that she didn't have to wash anything while stacking another dirty dish onto the looming pile next to the sink, she might accidentally break something on purpose.

"We need to talk," Derek growled, very near her hear. She stiffened at his closeness, willing herself not to fall over or start yelling.

"I can't," she replied, yanking her elbow out of his grip. "I'm busy." Her mother's entire family was in the other room. There was no way she was going to converse with him now. Statistically speaking, they tended to be on the louder side and, with his lack of tact, something unmentionable might be mentioned. And she was still mad at him.

"Look, you can make this easy or you can make it difficult; I don't care. We're gonna talk. Now."

"No," she moved away from him quickly. Water dribbled down her rubber gloves and onto the rug in front of the sink. "I don't want to talk to you. At all. Just leave me alone."

"Stop being a bitch for five minutes and come outside," he was frustrated.

"How about you stop being selfish for five minutes?" She pulled the gloves off over her fingers." My entire family is out there right now, Derek; they are having a party, in case you missed that memo. I'm not going anywhere with you."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Really? I hadn't noticed that we had guests, especially when Victoria sat on me earlier." Casey crossed her arms and bit back a retort that would only make her sound catty or jealous. Which she was not. Because he was an adult and was allowed to do whatever he wanted. She narrowed her eyes at him, but she kept quiet. "Let's go," his voice was softly demanding she do what he wanted. But she wasn't ready.

"No. What part of 'I'm not talking to you' are you not getting?"

"We can do this outside or I can start making a scene in the front room; it's up to you."

"The front room? Really? You'd voluntarily terrify everyone in there?" Casey didn't believe him. He had a sense of morals and knew right from wrong. At least, as far as she knew. He laughed loudly once.

"You'd be surprised what I'd do when I'm angry enough." He stared right at her and she put a hand on the counter to keep from taking a step backward. She had planned on calling his bluff; making him carry out his threat, but the way he looked at her made her hesitate. She'd seen him angry before, they fought all the time, and he'd been angry when they'd broken it off; but until now, she'd never seen him look like he did at this moment. She could almost feel the anger radiating off of his body; his fists clenched at his sides and his jaw locked. She understood how hard he must have been working to keep a calm exterior.

"Fine," she blew out a breath and whipped the dish towel off her shoulder and onto the counter. "I'll go outside." She hastily untied the apron from around her waist, her shaking fingers making it difficult. She dropped it on top of the towel and looked up at him, her hands on her hips. He seemed slightly taken aback; he probably expected her to put up more of a fight. He bowed her out of the room and followed her into the snowy backyard.

She stopped as far from the house as the fence would allow and crossed her arms over her chest. She should have grabbed a jacket or a scarf or her boots; something to protect her from the Canadian December. She fought chattering teeth and looked up as Derek came out the back door. He threw a coat at her as he got closer and she reacted quickly to keep from being smacked in the face.

"What is your problem?" she hissed, stuffing her arms into the jacket.

"I think that answer is self-explanatory, Casey."

"If that were the case, I wouldn't have asked, Derek."

"You have a habit of ignoring the obvious, Casey."

"You have a habit of ignoring the rules, Derek."

"Only when you make up rules of your own."

"Oh, don't give me that. You dragged me out here, so unless you pull your head out of your ass, I'm going back inside."

"I don't care if you do, Princess-"

"Don't call me that," she cut across him. He didn't get to call her that. Not anymore.

"I'll talk at you in there just as well." He acted as if she hadn't spoken at all. She huffed and crossed her arms. "I'm serious."

Casey rolled her eyes and shifted her weight. "Then spit it out. Because I was serious when I said I don't want to talk to you."

"Yeah, well, tough shit, Case," he grumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "We don't all get what we want." She rolled her eyes again, frustrated.

"So, talk. I want to go back inside." It was quiet for a beat. Their breath hung in foggy clouds above them.

"Your mom freaked out at me today."

"Did you touch the party food when she told you not to?"

"God! Casey! This isn't funny! It's like everything is just one big joke to you! Shut up and listen to me." Her nostrils flared as she took a very controlled breath in and then let it out, fighting to keep silent. His tone had been so blunt and full of hate that she struggled to appear unfazed. "Your mom is under the warped impression that we talk to each other. She thinks you've cracked and gone off the deep end. You're applying to law school? And for that promotion? During busy season? Jesus, Casey, are you trying to kill yourself?"

"So, what? I'm staying busy, it's not anything I can't handle."

"Really? Because I don't think so. Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Of course I know what I'm doing," she lied. She knew it was probably the biggest lie she had ever told him, even as the words spilled out of her mouth. She wanted to be too busy to think about him. She'd done it before; it was a perfectly normal coping mechanism. Ultimately, it wouldn't matter that she'd lived a couple of months just going through the motions.

"God, Casey, I can feel you forgetting me, and it's killing me," he said, all on one breath. He dropped his head and kicked at the snow with the toe of his shoe. "I was so in love with you." He shook his head, as if loving her had been his own stupidity. Casey felt like her heart had fallen into the snow at her feet. Even if she was mad at him, they had been happy and it hurt to suppose that he might think it all had been stupid. She swallowed hard as he sniffed. "Fuck. I'm still in love with you."

What?

Casey's gaze shot up to his face, pulse racing. He still loved her. She ran her eyes over his features. Behind the anger and hurt that were so clearly composed lingered a desperate hope. The lights of the house made the tears welling in his eyes shine. She felt a lump form in her throat and her nose began to run. She let out a shaky breath and sniffed.

He was making everything more difficult. She had drawn her lines and was determined to live by them. She had to set the moral standard somewhere. Even if it killed her, she needed rules by which to abide. And there were days where she was sure she would die of heartache. Why did it have to be him?

"Casey, I want you to know that I'm still here. Against my better judgment, I still want to marry you. We can have everything you want, Case," he took a small step towards her as she started shaking her head. She'd never stopped loving him. How was she supposed to give him up again? "We can have that, Casey, if you want it badly enough. I know I am willing to fight for that. With you."

"Derek," she warned in a whisper, casually brushing a tear from under her eyelashes. They were quiet enough that anyone at the house couldn't hear them; it would only sound like a normal conversation. Even if that was so far from the truth.

"Every relationship takes work. And I know that you and I are worth it. I know that. You just have to want it, too."

"Derek, stop," she breathed. It wouldn't work. She knew that. No matter how badly she wished for it, it wasn't going to work. They already shared a family. That wasn't something they could change or fix.

"We'd be unconventional, but it's worth it, Princess. What you and I have is worth that."

Her head was pounding when he finished. She stared at him. This was what she had done to him. Reduced him to a boy willing to lay his heart on his sleeve. Willing to let her shoot him down again, for the small chance that her answer might have changed. Because he had to know that she couldn't possibly say yes to him. Her chest hurt, like a giant weight had been placed right over her lungs. He was completely serious and yet couldn't be. She was confused and angry and in pain. It was the pet name that made her angry. How could he think that they would be normal if they just wanted it enough?

And suddenly he was too close. He pressed his mouth to hers in a desperate, shaky, open-mouthed kiss. It took all she had to not sink into him; a beat passed before she could control herself again.

"No!" Casey jerked back, pushing against his chest. "You can't do that, Derek. You can't just kiss me and make everything else go away. It doesn't make things better!"

He winced and put a hand up. "Okay. Okay." Casey ran her hands through her hair.

"How are you still doing this to me?" she whispered. She was exasperated and couldn't think straight. She looked around, but he stood between her and the door.

His brows narrowed at her accusation. "How are you still doing this to me? I know you still love me but you're not willing to trust me at all."

"Trust you? Derek, it's not about trusting you!" She took two steps to her left before returning to directly in front of him. "I'm not the only one who made a choice here. I tried to compromise, but you weren't willing to meet me halfway. So, I'm done digging my heels in with you, Derek. I'm going back to Kingston tomorrow and you'll go back to Ottawa and we'll all get on with our lives," she spat the last part out with more bitterness than she'd wanted. She breathed heavy breaths in and out. She was not going to cry.

"Case," his voice was too soft as he reached out to her.

"Don't touch me, Derek," she growled at him, but the bite had left her voice. She had missed him and couldn't logic herself out of his embrace. He hugged her and it was like going home; he was warm and gentle and smelled unreasonably good. Her knees nearly gave out from underneath him as he held her. She couldn't command her arms from clinging to him, just as she couldn't command her lungs to stop breathing. He moved to kiss her again before Casey remembered that they were in the backyard of their parents' house. With her mother's whole family inside.

"No," she gasped air, struggling to remember her resolve. "We can't. There's no way for us, for this, to work."

"Fuck that. There's always a way."

She closed her eyes. "Don't say that, Derek," she whispered. Not sure if she meant his choice of words or the message his words meant. "What could anyone think of us? There is no way." They were trapped. She was trying to find the courage and the willpower to tell him no one more time. To deny him what they both wanted from each other. To tell them both no.

"Fuck everyone else."

"Derek," she said sadly, the words ghosting out of her mouth.

"It won't matter." His thumb brushed her cheek. She took a few sporadic breaths as she tried to control the rhythm of her diaphragm, pulling in the icy winter air.

"Then how come it does?" She sniffed and wiped under her eyes with her knuckles. Derek shifted his weight and nodded, chewing his tongue. She took one step back before walking around him, giving him a wide berth, just in case he felt like reaching for her again. It had been one of the hardest things she'd done; she wasn't sure she could do it again.

The warmth of the house felt wonderful and welcoming as Casey stepped into the mud room. She shrugged out of the coat that was not hers and moved into the kitchen. The sink sat full of half used dish water. She brushed past Derek's mother on her way into the front room. The rest of the dishes could wait. Just now she needed a drink.

"Yikes," Emily muttered into her hands. Her nails clicked against her teeth before she dropped her palms to the table. Casey nodded, sadly, running her finger around the edge of her empty mug.

"And that's where I left it with him," she confessed, not looking up. Emily made a face.

"What does that mean?"

"We didn't talk about it again."

"Yeah, right," Emily narrowed her brows. "You said barrage. That was hardly a barrage, especially by the standards the two of you set. Remember when he threw you in my pool?" Casey laughed, smirking a little.

"Oh, quite well." She'd given all of his CDs to Marti along with a permanent marker and let her draw whatever she wanted. On both sides. "He had painted black 'x' marks on all of my bras."

"See what I mean?" Emily insisted. "So, that was no barrage. When did the shit hit the fan?"

"I just told you," Casey smiled, sadly. It was the moment of truth. "I walked inside and needed a drink."

Casey sat at the table with her mostly empty wine glass. It had been the longest day of her adult life. She was ready for everyone to leave so she could go to bed and end this night. She could still feel his lips on hers. She stood and went into the kitchen for the open wine bottle. Because that's what she wanted.

She heard a shout and a tinkling of glass over the noise of the party. Great. Broken glass. Perfect. As she went to investigate, Marti skidded into the kitchen from behind the stairs.

"Casey!" she said, quickly. "Don't -" but that was all Casey heard before someone's beverage splashed in her face.

"Oh, my God," Vicki exclaimed, her empty glass clutched in her fist. "You slut." She stood there looking indignant as Casey sputtered.

"Oh, my God! Vicki?"

"Victoria!" Fiona gasped at her daughter.

"I knew it! I knew there had to have been something wrong with Miss Perfect!"

"What?" Casey shook her arms, letting the liquid drip onto the carpet.

"I knew there was something so twisted and wrong about you! I knew you couldn't be as extraordinary as you pretend you are. I knew you were some sort of freak!" Casey stared at her cousin, panting slightly from the chill of the drink running down her dress.

For years, Vicki had had a desperate need for attention. Any kind of attention: positive or negative; physical or verbal. She'd even told their grandmother that she was pregnant before dramatically exclaiming that she'd lost it four months later when she was asked about it. Fiona had to reassure her mother that Victoria had never actually been knocked up, much to her own embarrassment. So, when she started screeching at Casey, their family paid very little attention. But the pretend privacy didn't last long.

"I heard her!" Victoria continued. "I heard Abby tell your mom your little secret." Casey's mind raced to think of something Abby might have known that Vicki might believe was a secret about her. When did Abby even get here? Sure, Casey passed her in the kitchen, but what would she know? "She knows, your mom knows, George knows, and now everyone knows!"

"Knows what? That you eavesdrop on conversations?" Casey wiped at her face with a sticky hand. Vicki's assertions and confidence in what she had heard had caught the room's attention; their family stopped pretending they weren't listening to the argument.

"Ha! Like that's as bad as you!" Vicki seethed. "I can't believe you yelled at me for the exact same thing! But now I see why." Her lip cured up in a poisoned smile. "You wanted him all for you."

"What are you talking about?" Casey asked. But her voice was steadier than she felt. Her heart had caught in her throat. Her cousin couldn't possibly know what Casey feared she was talking about. How could she? They had been so careful.

"That's nice, Casey. Just pretend you don't know."

"I don't kn-"

"Just pretend you're not the home-wrecking slut I know you are. You can't hide from me; I heard them. Everyone knows. Everyone knows how you like to keep things personal." Casey was panting a little as her brain went into panic mode.

"How much have you had to drink, Vicki?" Heads turned as Derek emerged on the upstairs landing. How he'd gotten upstairs, Casey didn't know, but seeing him there just served to further terrify her.

"Not enough to erase what I heard, Prince Charming," Victoria glared at him.

"Maybe enough to make you think you're hearing things?" he smirked, leaning his elbows against the banister. Vicki shook her head, smiling too widely.

"You're not charming yourself out of this one, sweetie," she hummed. "Not this time." She turned to Casey, "neither of you are."

"Vicki, don't-" Casey started, stepping towards her.

"Don't what? Don't tell your whole family what you've been doing? Don't let everyone know you're not as perfect as they think you are? Don't share that you've screwing your brother for years?"

The silence that followed pressed painfully against Casey's eardrums. She swallowed hard, her breathing erratic.

"Well, step, technically," Marti squeaked from behind Casey. "Stepbrother."

"Like that makes a difference!" Vicki screeched. "They're related. It has the word 'brother' in the title. It's sick," she turned to Casey, "you freak!" She spat the last word, trying to inflict as much pain as possible.

The front door opened. Nora, George, and Abby all filed in, followed closely by a gust of Canadian winter. Nora looked as if someone had slapped her across the face and George seemed extremely angry. Muscles in his jaw were pulsing as was a vein near his temple.

"See?" Vicki trumpeted. "See? I told you!" She pointed accusingly at her cousin. "They know what you did!"

"Casey?" George called to her, not aware of the dramatics taking place in his living room. "Derek? I would like a word." He tried to motion them into privacy but Victoria gave a merciless laugh.

"We've just been having a lovely chat, Uncle George!" she grinned.

"Vicki, please," Casey started.

"About how your son and your wife's daughter-"

"Vicki!"

"-have been going at it for years." Victoria ignored Casey's protests and barreled through the confession that was not hers. "You know, doing it? It's nice to know that we're keeping it in the family."

The room was eerily quiet. Nora's family attempted to blend into the furniture and pretend that they were invisible ears to this upheaval. Abby cleared her throat.

"I just, sorry, I only though there might be an interest, George, I didn't know-"

"You've done enough, Abby," George told her, his voice steel.

"Mom?" Derek narrowed his eyebrows.

"In the yard, I thought I was probably right. It was supposed to be a joke. I just-I thought they knew. We'd talked about it before this ever-"

"Abby!" George bellowed. "Enough."

Casey had never known George to yell at anyone. Sure, he had been a disciplinarian and had made rules, but he had usually gone for the disappointed approach. Casey's knees began to tremble as Abby fell silent, swallowing her tongue.

"Isn't that a pretty picture?" Vicki cackled. She stepped out from between Casey and the trio of adults clustered in the front entryway. Fiona harshly grabbed her daughter's arm and began to furiously whisper in her ear as she marched them into the kitchen. "Oh, sure," she yelled, making her disruptive exit. "They have sex and I get punished." The room quieted.

"Is there merit to this?" George's stare was icy as he evaluated Casey's face. She was shaking, unable to control her hands or her vocal cords. "Are you trying to be funny, Abby?" he asked, turning to his first wife.

"No, George, I thought that-"

"Because this can't seriously be happening."

"We talked about this, George. When I met Nora, we said-"

"Not now." George was unwilling to let Abby finish a sentence on the matter.

"Mom, I can explain," Casey took a small step toward her mother, trying to control the tremor in her voice. Nora countered with a step back. She was blinking hard, as if trying to focus her vision. Her mouth was slightly agape as she regarded her daughter. She tried to speak several times before her voice would cooperate.

"Un-unless you are going to tell me that this is a sick version of the pranks," she shook her head, cutting herself off. "No," she finally stated. "No, there is no acceptable explanation of this."

"Mom," Casey croaked, her heart hammering loudly in her chest. Nora's eyes had closed as she leaned against George for stability and support.

"I don't know where we went wrong," she whispered. "It has to be our fault; it's always the parents' fault." She looked to George, standing behind her. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Casey's pulse raced through her body as her mother muttered mostly to herself.

"It can't be our fault, Nora," George soothed her, his arms around her shoulders. "This is not an environmental thing or a nurturing characteristic; no, we couldn't have," he paused. "Who could guess that their children would engage in-"he stopped speaking as his face blanched of color and a green, sweaty sheen graced his complexion. "I can't even say it." He rested his forehead on the back of Nora's hair. There were quiet murmurs of agreement from the family members around them. Everyone seemed to have similar sentiments. Casey wished at that moment that the carpet would simply absorb her; she wanted to die.

"What is your problem?"Derek sounded indignant. "It's not like we're actually related." He stepped lightly down the stairs, a clam appearance in place as the whole room seemed to gawk at him.

"You are actually related," George deadpanned. "You are the definition of actually related. Relation by marriage qualifies as an actual relationship."

"I met her in high school, dad. I was sixteen; it's not like we grew up together or anything."

"How does that change anything?" George insisted, looking up from Nora's shoulder. Derek's interpretation of the facts was baffling. Nora's family whispered to each other, creating a din of condemnation that floated around the room. Derek's expression and the fists clenched in his pockets hinted at his emotional state; far different from everyone else.

"It kind of negates the whole sibling thing," he explained, uncurling a fist. He looked quickly at Casey."We were too old to build any familial bond."

"But too young, obviously, to be an adult about the situation," George countered.

"What is that supposed to-"

"Why is this even a discussion?" George cut his son off. He looked at his wife and her daughter before continuing. "We're their parents. We can get them the help they obviously need." He nodded, sure of himself. Casey stomach churned at the look on his face. "We can fix this. There are places, people, who specialize in this." George acted as though he were only speaking to Nora, speaking in private instead of to an entire room full of his wife's family.

"Dad?" Derek sounded slightly concerned as his father continued to nod.

"It'll all work out in the end," George tucked Nora's hair behind her ear. "We can still fix them; fix this. You'll see."

Casey was in full panic. George was losing it. Was he going to have them imprisoned? Locked in an asylum? Her maternal relatives were chattering to themselves about emotional and mental stability. No one would look at her; there was no sympathy anywhere.

"Dad," Derek said, louder than the first, demanding his father's attention. "Why are you acting like we're insane?"

"Because, Derek, I believe that finding out that my son is," George choked over his word choice, "sleeping with my," he struggled to define Casey, "daughter is pretty insane."

"Step, George," Abby corrected, "stepdaughter." George ignored her.

"Obviously, you both need serious psychological help. We can work this out."

Casey could feel the walls closing in around her. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought she might burst. She felt hopeless in a sea of judgment. As she looked around the room at her worst nightmare taking form, her gaze caught on her sister. Lizzie was looking at Casey without truly seeing her; a blank, unknowing stare.

"Is that why you stopped coming home?" Liz asked, barely above a whisper.

"My job in Kingston-" Casey started.

"For Christmas and summers. Is that why I stopped seeing you? All those times you traveled? Were you just going to see him?" Casey swallowed, unable to answer. But her silence spoke louder than an explanation. "I always trusted you with stuff. With everything! My secrets," she shook her head. "But you didn't trust me? You didn't even think of me? Of us?" she gestured to Marti and Edwin. "Did you even miss me?"

"Liz," Casey tried, but her sister choked on a sob and cut her off.

"How could you be so selfish?" Lizzie backed away.

"It's okay," Edwin told her, standing. He placed a hand on Liz's shoulder. George made a gurgling noise.

"Edwin!" he eyed his younger son. "We need to watch them more closely," he told Nora.

"Oh, come on, Dad," Edwin narrowed his eyes in Derek's direction. "I'm not that crazy." He turned to face his brother completely. "I'm glad I was significant enough to mooch off of, dude, and trustworthy enough to know about your prank victims and your petty problems. Thanks for letting me know how important I was in the scheme of things."

"Ed," Derek explained. "You already knew. Or at least I thought you did." Edwin scoffed. "I trust you, man, but this was," he sucked in a breath, "complicated."

"Obviously. It's okay that I was too simple-minded to understand big, important grown-up stuff, like you screwing my stepsister."

"Edwin," Casey started.

"Just forget it. Forget both of you." He took the stairs two at a time and slammed his bedroom door.

"Smer?" Marti whispered. "Couldn't you have been a grown up about this?"

"What?" Marti seemed to be the only person unfazed by the commotion.

"I mean, you could have done this a little smarter. You're kind of an idiot."

"Thanks, Smarts," he said, unsure. Marti pulled a face at him, like she was in pain, and walked over to her mother.

"You see?" George shook his head. "Your problems have plagued our whole family. What you do affects us, too. But, of course, you have an excuse for everything."

"George, it just happened," Casey defended.

"You are both inherently selfish and extremely stubborn about things you know nothing about."

"Casey never had this problem," Nora said, softly. George turned to her.

"Derek, well, he wasn't ever this bad on his own." He brushed her face. "It's okay, once we separate them-"

"Hold it," Derek yelled, holding both of his hands up. "I'm done with this shit. We," he pointed at Casey, coming to stand between her and their parents, "are done with this shit. We're adults. What we do is really none of your business."

"You are our children. It most certainly is our business!" Nora cried, her voice loud for the first time in a long while.

"We can disown you," George told his son, stone-faced.

"Dad, we're not eight. We both have jobs. Hell, I have a 401K for Christ's sake. I pay for everything myself. And it's Dennis that helps Casey with her house and her car so you'd have to talk to him." Derek looked dramatically around the living room. "But, look at that, he's not here! He wouldn't care if Casey sold paraphernalia out of there as long as she didn't bother him while she did it!" He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "And even if he did care, rent and car insurance payments are not going to make me leave her."

"I didn't mean financially, Derek," George warned. "That's not really how to disown someone."

"What do you mean?" Derek sounded on edge.

"I can't do this. I won't do this. I cannot sit here and watch my son and a young woman I have regarded as my daughter be involved together in a romantic way. I can't advocate it. I won't let it stand. I'm not having that in my house."

"So, we'll stay away from your house," Derek bit out from behind clenched teeth. Casey took a step forward. She knew that voice. She knew that Derek was using his anger to hide how hurt he was at his father's words. She had always feared this moment, but maybe Derek had been more optimistic.

"I mean it, Derek," George threatened. "I'm not going to change my mind about this."

A hot tear coursed down Casey's cheek. She could see the tear tracks on her mother's face as she clung to her husband.

"Mom?" she tried, timidly. "Mom? Mother?" Nora closed her eyes, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Casey was already estranged with her father; she couldn't bear the thought of not having her mother there. "Mom?" she choked on the last desperate plea and felt Derek slip his hand into hers. She looked up at him, as if she'd forgotten he was there and real. Up close, she could see that tears had also stained his face, next to the spattering of freckles near his nose.

"I still love you, Casey," Nora sniffed, wiping unsuccessfully at streaming eyes, "But I agree. I can't support this. Don't you know how wrong it is?"

"You'll be alone." George's cadence was flat and cold. "There won't be anyone there."

Casey's breathing became unregulated. She knew she would get no compassion from her family. It didn't even matter anymore that she'd given him up. Nothing else mattered to anyone else. She'd made her bed long ago and now, even though she had believed she had fixed the situation, she would now be forced to lay in it. And Derek. Even after everything she did to him, he stood by her. He didn't abandon her and hide upstairs as she was figuratively stoned by her family. He condemned himself with her. At that moment, Casey felt the definition of isolation constrict around them.

"You will have no one," George finished.

"Well, no," Abby spoke up. "Not quiet."

"Not now, Abby," George reiterated.

"Oh, shut up, George. Just because you're scary doesn't mean you control me."

"This doesn't really concern you," George told her, annoyed.

"Really? Because he's my son. So, I'd say it concerns me just as much as it concerns you, if not more so. I was the one who spent eight hours in labor with him."

"Abby, I'm trying to get through to them."

"No, George, you're trying to terrify them into doing what you want."

"Abby."

"I came to you because we'd talked about this. We thought it might happen the minute we saw her picture. I came to you because I thought it was funny. I thought you would have been adults about this and maybe would have addressed the potential problem instead of pretending it didn't exist."

"Abby!" George tried again.

"You're telling them that they won't have anyone, but this is my fault. So, they'll have me."

"Mom?" Derek was staring at his mother like she had sprouted an extra head.

George's look mirrored his son's. "So, you're pursuing sainthood now?"

"Of course not," she scoffed, tucking her purse into her shoulder. "I just love my kid."

"And I don't?"

"Hey, you parent your own way, and I'll parent mine."She looked at Marti who stood quietly behind her mother messing with her cell phone. Casey looked up at Derek who still appeared very stunned. Then Abby looked up at them. "Ready? I came to pick up Marti, but I would love to get you both out of here, if you'd like." Casey's breath caught in her throat.

"Mom?" Derek croaked again.

"It's okay," she smiled, holding a hand out to them. "It'll all be okay"

"Holy hell," Emily stated.

There was a slight ringing in Casey's ears that muffled any exterior noise from the coffee shop.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"That was the barrage."

"Yes."

"Jesus Christ," Emily muttered, dropping her gaze to her hands locked together on the table before her. "I could never do that."

"Do what?"

"Anything that you just said. I would have become a sniveling ball of human on the floor for years."

"That's about how I felt," Casey agreed.

"And, oh, my God, Abby," Emily exclaimed.

"Yeah, we thought she must have been possessed or something. She was the last person we thought would ever come to our rescue."

"I would have, too! I lived next to them for years! She was pretty absent for most things."

"That's what I knew of her, too," Casey explained, "We were lucky that she had come to pick up Marti. Well, lucky that she stayed, not so lucky that she saw and heard us in the back yard."

"Wow. Good for her! So, you must," Emily started, rolling her hands in gesticulation.

"Have a really great relationship with her. It has been a really wonderful opportunity," Casey smiled. "She gets to know our family."

"What about everyone else?"

"Everyone else?"

"You know, Liz and Ed and Marti?"

"Mom and George freaked out at Liz and Ed. They never let them be alone in the same room together. I think George blew a fuse that night and couldn't tell that Lizzie and Edwin were only really good friends."

"Have you?" Emily started, trailing off .

"I haven't spoken to George or Nora in nearly four years."

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "Wow." She paused for a second and then bit her lip. "What happened next?"

Because stuff just went down! Did anyone see that coming? :) I hope I kept you on your toes...

The next chapter shouldn't be a long wait... Who knows what's next? 2,000 points to guessers! :)

So, points prize: I am thinking presents! For certain totals of points, a person could earn a story, a title, a line, or something along those lines!

Let me know what you think! The box down here is directly connected to happiness! :)

P.S. If any one has other suggestions for which to cash in their points, I'd love to hear them!