Hello! I'll use this space to say a huge thank you to all who have reviewed and have given words of encouragement. Thank you so much, it means quite a lot to me. Also, I want to just say here that Erin is not going to be the only character developed throughout this story. I really love the character of Kitty in the novel (Katie here I suppose) and her potential – I think that fact that Austen leaves her so underdeveloped is probably the biggest flaw in the novel. Not that I am any better than Austen (I wish!), but I want to at least attempt to give Kitty something of substance and show her as she grows up.

Chapter 2

Saturdays meant a few things to Melly Benson. First and foremost, it was a day where she woke with the sun. It was a sort of therapy, she supposed, to watch the sun come up over the horizon. She would sit on her favorite wicker chair in the backyard and watch as everything was transformed around her. The sky was always different; that was her favorite part. It seemed to denote just what sort of day the world had in store for her. The days where pink and orange streaks cut through the sky would be the good days, the cool days with just a hint of spring. Today, however, the sky was ruddy and red; a day that promised heat and stickiness, two of Melly's least favorite things. Then again, there wasn't much that Melly really liked.

Secondly, Saturdays meant pancakes. It was the Benson's only real family tradition, and for some reason, though she could never discover why, she looked forward to it every week, and even more so as she grew older. Perhaps it was because Melly knew, just like Erin, that soon, their numbers for pancake breakfast would begin to dwindle, and soon, Melly would be forced to grow up.

Thirdly, Saturdays stood as peace for Melly. She woke hours before anyone else in her family stirred and she was left to read or study in peace. It had never struck her odd that she sought to escape in classic literature and fantastical lands even when the world really was right in front of her, ready to bend to her whims; it had been what Melly had done for as long as she could remember and she wasn't one to break out of habits.

The day did turn out to be sticky, much warmer and muggier than the previous day had been. Erin woke feeling grimy, with sheen of sweat on her forehead. She woke late, but could hear her father moving about in the kitchen below her. He was singing, and Erin listened with a smile. Her father had an amazing voice. It was what had originally brought her parents together; Nicolas Benson could belt it out like the best of them while Melanie Foster had the piano playing fingers of an angel.

She sat up, stretching slowly, the smell of the breakfast below reaching her, making her stomach grumble in anticipation. She slowly made her way down the stairs, still groggy from her sleep; it hadn't been long. She and Janie had stayed out until 1:00 AM, a curfew they rarely employed. Normally, Janie was the first to get uncomfortable or sleepy with the surroundings, and Erin, like the protective older sister she was, would do whatever Janie insisted. But last night had been different. Janie had wanted to stay.

Erin couldn't help but smirk. Clay Barrick may have had something to do with that. And it was true. Janie seemed to be enraptured with the guy already, something that Erin found endearing and a little bit worrisome at the same time. Of course, Clay seemed like a great guy. He was just a tad bit older than she had first expected. Twenty-one. It's not that big of a deal, Erin reasoned as she shuffled through the living room, towards the kitchen. You've had a crush on Paul for forever, and he's twenty-one. And Janie is seventeen. Four years is hardly anything. Even though Erin's reason told her all of that and more, she couldn't help but feel a little anxious; unlike her crush on Paul, Janie's crush on Clay seemed to be returned with just as much intensity, if not more.

She pushed the thoughts away. As long as Janie was happy, she was happy. Her younger sister was delicate and shy, always had been. Maybe a relationship with Clay would help her open up more. Erin pushed open the swinging door to enter the kitchen. The sun was streaming through the windows, lighting up the entire room. The Bensons kitchen had white walls with blue and yellow diamond tiled floors. The counters matched the floors, and potted plants lined the window sills – they all belonged to and were cared for by Janie. A few were even beginning to sprout flowers. There was an island located in the middle of the room, just behind the older white oven, and right across from the chrome refrigerator that their father had gotten just that past year. The dining room table was large and white, pushed aside towards the corner of the room, in front of the two French doors that led to the backyard. Through the doors, one could see the extensive backyard, the wicker-piece furniture set, and the new day beginning before them.

Her father looked up from the frying pan as she walked in. He smiled at her, almost in a sort of laughing way as he noticed her weariness. The counters were a mess next to him, with bowls, egg shells and measuring cups spread out everywhere. Pancakes were his specialty, and he went all out with his homemade recipe. All of the girls loved them.

"Good morning sleeping beauty." He said it lightly as he flipped over a pancake with ease.

She gave him a hard look, knowing she was certainly no beauty this morning. "Good morning." It came out a lot harsher than she meant it to, but her father just laughed in response.

"Will you set the table?"

"Yeah, sure," Erin replied, bee-lining for the cupboards.

"So did you girls have fun? I was mildly disappointed when I didn't hear anyone stumbling or vomiting in the bathroom when you got home last night," Nick remarked casually, a smile playing about his face.

Erin snorted as she gathered a stack of six plates. "Yeah we both puked at Carly's place. Sorry to disappoint."

"Well, I'll thank Janie later for at least forcing you to respect your curfew."

"Other way around," Erin smirked. Then she bit her lip wondering if Janie wanted their father to know anything about Clay Barrick. Still, Erin had never lied to her father. Sure she hadn't always told him the complete truth. Like when she was in sixth grade and one of the wealthier students had mocked her mercilessly about her designer-less outfit, and she had punched her in the face, Erin had told her father that she had just been having a bad day. She didn't want him to feel guilty for not spending a small fortune on her clothes, and she could deal with the teasing herself. She had certainly proved that. The next year, when St. Luke's instilled the new rule of uniforms, it was like a load had been taken off of her small shoulders.

Her father turned to face her. "Janie wanted to stay?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Erin said softly, not meeting his eye as she set the plates down on the long, white-oak table.

"Well that's a tad surprising. Was she drugged?"

"Maybe by love," Erin remarked with another smirk, going back to the drawer to get out the silverware.

"Ahh, the world makes sense again. So it's a boy. I always feared this moment."

Erin smiled, seeing that her father was somewhat serious. "His name is Clay. He seems really nice, his family just moved into that yellow house on Netherfield Lane."

"Oh, Doctor Barrick's son? Joe Luther was telling me about him, apparently he grew up here and the two of them were friends back in high school."

"Yeah, Carly mentioned that actually," Erin said as she set the forks down, got the napkins, and went back for the glasses.

Melly entered the kitchen a bit stormily, her curly hair frizzy and mangled. She had a feverish look about her, something that Melly nearly always had. She had much more spunk than even Erin, seemingly making up for Janie's lack thereof. Of course, not one of the girl's could even begin to compete with Lily when it really came down to spunkiness. Lily could look a raging, angry bull in the eye, the ugliest, meanest bull you could find, and the twelve year old girl would barely bat an eyelash.

Melly's eyes were stormy, and she nearly slammed her book – this time a rather monstrous copy of Gone with the Wind - down as she sat at the table. Nick raised an amused eyebrow; if there was one thing he learned about dealing with his teenage daughters, it was never to take anything too seriously. He learned long ago that many things passed easily enough on their own. He had also learned that each of his daughters had their own tendencies; some could even call it flaws, but he certainly wouldn't. Erin's was simple enough; she was a harsh judge, and once her mind was made up, she wouldn't relent. It had been nearly the same with her mother. Janie had a tendency to be offended by nearly everything he said, and sometimes things that he didn't even say. She was still sensitive, and he had long ago accepted that she always would be. Melly, on the other hand, was rash and tended to sweat the small stuff. She was studious, cared more about her grades than any of the girls combined and seemed to want to prove herself to everyone. Just why she had such a giant chip on her shoulder, he had no idea. Perhaps it was his fault.

Lily was loud and even more rash than Melly. She had a flair for the dramatics and more often than not gave him a headache. Lily was the one he was always disciplining for this or that, and he knew that before long she would rebel against him. He feared it, yet at the same time welcomed it; he knew it would happen sooner or later no matter what he did. He had been much of the same way with his own parents. Katie though was the one he now worried about the most. She seemed to feed off others, as if her own personality was non-existent. She mostly looked to Lily for direction due to their natural closeness as identical twins. She always seemed a little lost, a little dazed, and he wondered where she had misplaced herself along the way. Then again, she was only twelve. She had plenty of time to find herself.

"Everything alright Melly?" he asked, ready for some amusing anecdote. Melly was normally full of them, although the humor of her words was regularly lost on her.

She gave a loud sigh, as Erin continued to set the glasses at each spot at the table. "I'm just so sweaty! I hate summer. I can't even read without the pages sticking to me."

Nick smirked, in a loving manner of course. He almost envied Melly; if this was the largest of her problems, he figured she was doing quite alright for herself. In through the door came the rest of the crew, their eyes bleary with sleep, but their stomachs rumbling with hunger. Katie and Lily with their wispy blonde hair pulled into a bun on top of their heads, nearly attacked the stack of pancakes that their father had just set out.

"I am starving!" Lily nearly screamed. Melly and Erin winced.

It wasn't long before the entire table was full, pancakes had been distributed and everyone was eating away merrily. There was light chatter at the table, Nick seemingly drawing out elusive details about all of his daughters' lives. His attention was soon turned to Janie.

"I hear you've met a nice boy Janie?"

Janie's eyes instantly fell on Erin, and even though there was no malice in them, she instantly felt like a traitor. Janie smiled slightly, showing much more confidence than Erin had been expecting.

"His name is Clay."

"Ohhhhh," Lily let out childishly and in such a way that the rest had to let out a laugh. It was just such a Lily response.

"What does he look like?" Katie asked.

"We would be able to know, you know, if dad would have let us go to the party," Lily reminded.

"Lily, you're twelve. I garuntee you that you will have enough parties of your own to miss without having to count on Erin's and Janie's."

Erin and Janie both chuckled, while Lily huffed indignantly.

"Was he cute?" Lily repeated.

Melly rolled her eyes, and Janie refused to comment.

The rest of the breakfast passed, for the most part harmoniously. Lily and Katie fought over the last Pilsbury cinnamon roll, while Melly left early to escape to the cooler part of the house to read in peace. Janie picked up the dishes, since it was her turn to clean up, and Nick helped put things away. It left Erin to her music. She walked quietly to the study, her mother's old songbook in her hands. It was more of a comfort thing really – she had long ago memorized all of them and no longer need the book at all.

Erin had added to the back of the book – only three songs, one of which was Sydney's song, her very first, and the other two had been from earlier that year. Her inspiration was seemingly limited and the other two were far from perfect. Still they were hers, like her own children, and she looked upon them with pride and happiness. Erin had of course tried to write a song about her mother many times, but she never seemed to be able to get it right. All the note combinations she found just didn't do her mother's memory justice. And she couldn't bring herself to write a song that would be anything less than perfection.

She played a few pieces, mixes of her own mothers and other composers, in order to soothe her. She couldn't quite get the images from the night before out of her mind. Nor what she had overheard. She struck the next note with too much violence as she thought about the entire thing.

After dancing, she and Carly had made their way to the kitchen – Carly needed to replenish her drink. Erin at that point in time had already stopped drinking, but just went along with her friend anyway. They soon sat on the counters, and just chatted and gossiped lightly, Carly supplying most of the dirt. It was during one of the rare lulls in their conversation that they overheard deep, male sounding voices coming from just outside the kitchen door. Most likely, the two were waiting in line for the bathroom, which was just outside the kitchen. Erin and Carly would not have given it a second thought had not Janie's name been mentioned.

"She's beautiful," the voice said, and although slightly muffled, the tone declared that it was quite heartfelt.

"Yes, she's easily the only attractive girl here. But really, Clay – they're eighteen. I'm too old for fucking high school parties." This voice was harsh – and easily recognizable. It was Clay's friend, William Dalton, the guy who had been so rude to Carly and had continued to look about the entire place as though he was above it and the people there.

"Jesus, Dalton, it's not that bad," Clay cut in. "And there's some other cute girls – like Janie's sister. I think her name was Erin."

At this point in time, Erin had smiled slightly, a bit flattered.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Erin's smile was wiped away.

"No, I'm not."

A laugh. "No thanks Clay. You can stay here with the jail-bait, but I'm going back home."

Erin had been miffed, but laughed it off. Carly assured her that William Dalton was "an absolute jackass" and that she shouldn't worry or take offense. And of course, Erin knew this was true. Still, it's a sensitive topic for every girl and Erin couldn't help but feel the sting of the insult, even the morning after. Of course, she would get over it quickly – but she certainly wouldn't forgive Dalton for such a remark. At least, she thought as she hit the keys still a bit too harshly, I won't have to deal with him again.

After struggling in vain to write something she liked, Erin left the piano room behind her. She was having a hard time concentrating. In fact, she didn't feel much like herself at all. There was only one thing to do in such a situation; go for a run.

While Janie preferred walking to running, and Melly just thought physical exercise was horrible, Erin loved running even more than walking, even if she did it much less. It was a time where she got to think about nothing or anything at all. It was a boundless time, a time to feel and breathe, time to think about anything or absolutely nothing; it was all up to the discretion of the runner themselves. She changed quickly, grabbed her orange iPod nano and was out the door, her shirt already damp with sweat the moment she left the front door.

It was days like today that Lily especially liked; that is, days when she was completely unquestioned, and thereby totally in charge of the proceedings. Being technically the youngest, it was a feeling that that Lily reveled in and enjoyed, mostly because she knew she shouldn't have any power at all; it was similar to the thief who steals not out of need but for the sake of thrill. By being in charge, Lily was defying some age old rule that only the elders possessed the wisdom and right to rule. That defiance, that refusal of accepting norms, made Lily giddy with pleasure. And Lily, like most of us, also simply enjoyed getting her way, something which her twin Katie nearly always allowed.

Katie was just fine being ordered and bossed about more so out of habit than anything else. She had long ago learned that it was easier to just accept and go along with what Lily said, rather than challenge her and endure her subsequent wrath. The two were currently watching reality TV shows in their bedroom, painting their nails and giggling throughout commercials, their chatter rife with meaningless gossip of the average twelve year old girl; the news of who had kissed who, who was going to the dance with who, and what they would wish for if they only had one wish.

Of course, the last topic prompted much discussion, as such a question surely should. "I'd wish for Brent Dennis to ask me to the Homecoming dance… even if it is a whole summer away," Lily sighed, as she wiped a smudge of pink finger nail polish off her skin.

"Me too," Katie agreed a bit overzealously to make up for the fact that her thoughts had strayed elsewhere when she had first heard the question.

Katie cared little for Brent Dennis, and Lily, ironically cared even less. What they both ardently wished for, something they were both too afraid to admit, especially to each other, was just a glimpse of their dead mother alive once again, with all her imposing beauty that they had only seen represented in the photographs that their father kept in albums in the family room, stacked up neatly on the wooden shelves. All they really wanted was to bring her back, even if only for mere seconds, to try to know her, and at the very least, to see a little piece of themselves in her, whether it be in her bearing, her smile, or the gleaming, peaceful gaze that sometimes adorned her face in the well worn pictures they each secretly stole away to, the one that they couldn't understand yet wanted so desperately to replicate.