Shout-outs: WeLoveNeville, I Dream of Scotty, Mareear, Guest, MissDonnie, AngryLittlePrincess, Guest, Jane Doe51, blueyedmentalistfan, & Chymom

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Chapter 5

Chicago

Dear Patrick,

It's almost time for Halloween. My neighborhood and school have been transformed into spooky alleys and the leaves have completely changed their colors. Fall is one of my favorite seasons.

Tonight, Leah is spending the night with me. Mom is making apple tarts and Irish beef stew (yes, there is a difference) and then daddy is going to take us to a classical concert in the park. During September and November, the Chicago Symphony Orchestra gives free concerts on Friday night. This week's theme is fall-centered pieces. I hope they'll play Fall by Vivaldi. It is one of my favorite classical pieces of all time.

Leah is enjoying writing to Eddie; I've seen some of his letters. He seems to enjoy writing her more than he did Stella.

Speaking of Stella, she's having a birthday party tomorrow and guess who's not invited? You're right! It's me. Everybody in class, Leah included, got invitations. I guess she's still mad at me for what happened back at the beginning of October.

Mom says she can't stay mad forever, but I can see her staying mad at me until we graduate from high school. Unless by some miracle, she moves away before then. Which, I highly doubt will happen.

I hope you are doing well.

Love,

Teresa

She hesitated a moment before signing off. Love wasn't a word she used unless it was her parents or grandparents. She didn't even use it with her brothers or cousins and they were her family. But something about using it with Patrick just felt right.

She read through her letter and then remembered something exciting that had happened over the week. She scribbled a quick postscript.

P.S

My cousin, Katherine Moretti was born this week. She's my first girl cousin and I am so excited to have one even though I am almost ten-years-older than her. I just have the feeling we're going to be the best of friends.

Satisfied, she put the letter into her envelope and sealed it. She rummaged through her desk for the Halloween stickers her cousin Christopher had given to her and added some ghost stickers for decoration. She felt a little childish doing it, but she didn't have any other way to use the stickers and she wanted to get rid of them without hurting his feelings.

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After school was over, Leah and Teresa took the bus to her house. They sat and whispered together the whole time; neither of them noticed Stella glaring at them from the seat right across from theirs. Finally, she got up and approached them, arms folded across her chest.

"Are you coming to my party tomorrow, Leah?"

Leah looked at her and shrugged. "I don't go to parties where everybody except one person is excluded. I'm sorry Stella."

"Who'd I exclude?" Stella asked glancing around the bus before her gaze fell on Teresa. "Oh, right. I guess I. . . just forgot to invite her. It's too late now though, isn't it? You wouldn't mind if Leah came to the party though, would you Teresa? Or do you not know how to share?"

Teresa blew out a breath and shook her head, her braids slapping her cheeks. "You can go to the party if you'd like to Leah, I really don't mind."

Stella's lips curled into a cruel smile. "See? It's okay with Teresa, Leah. You can come to my party if you want to."

Leah was completely oblivious to what had gone down between the girls, but she knew that it probably wasn't something good. So, she shook her head and squared her shoulders. "Sorry Stella, but I'm afraid I can't make it. The Lisbon's invited me to their house and my parents said I could stay until after dinner tomorrow night."

Stella's smile faded and she glared at Teresa again. "You did that on purpose!" She screeched. "I was right; you don't know how to share! You're selfish Teresa Lisbon, really selfish!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Teresa insisted, the color rising to her cheeks. "This was one of the first available weekends for her to come over. I wouldn't do something like this to you on purpose!"

"Oh yeah? What about Patrick? You didn't share him with me!" Stella said, her voice elevating so high that it drew everybody else's attention.

"He's my pen pal!" Teresa reminded her. "I didn't have to share him with you!"

"He was better than my pen pal!"

"What is going on back here?" The aid, Rosie Martin asked with her slight British accent.

"Teresa started it!" Stella answered, crossing her arms again.

"Don't lie Stella!" Leah interjected. "You're the one who started it!"

Rosie looked between the three girls and tucked a short strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "Stella, I think you better sit with me."

"But. . ." Stella trailed off, her eyes filling with fat teardrops. "But I didn't do anything Rosie, I swear I didn't! I was just asking Leah if she's coming to my party tomorrow when Teresa started to say mean things to me."

Rosie looked at her skeptically and then smiled soothingly at her. "All the same, I think you better come and sit with me."

"But. . . but. . ." Stella trailed off helplessly, lost for a good argument and then she lifted her chin definitely, her tears drying up almost instantly. "Fine, but I'm not going to like it!"

"I don't think I'm going to like it that much either," Rosie muttered as she managed an encouraging smile for Teresa and Leah.

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"I didn't know you were a fan of classical music," Leah said as they trailed behind Teresa's father. "I mean, you never said anything. . ."

"I'm not a huge fan," Teresa answered. "I mean I wasn't until this year anyways. You don't like classical music?"

"Are you kidding me?" Leah replied, rolling her eyes. "My parents make me listen to it because they think it's good for my mind, but if I never had to listen to it again, I wouldn't care one single bit. Why do you suddenly like classical music?"

Teresa shrugged. "There isn't any reason not to like it," she replied.

"Ah, does it have something to do with a certain pen pal of your's?" Leah teased.

"Leah, please! I'm not even ten yet, I am too young to be thinking about boys like that," Teresa said primly. "And you are too."

"I'm ten," Leah reminded her.

"So? You're not that much older than me," Teresa answered. "I'll be ten in three weeks. We're most certainly too old to be thinking about boys as anything more than our friends."

"Do you always talk like you're a grown up?" Leah asked.

"No. . ." Teresa trailed off and shrugged. "I mean, I don't think so. . . why?"

"No reason. I'm just asking."

"Come on you two, hurry up!"

"Coming dad!" Teresa called, grabbing Leah's hand and speeding up to meet him.

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Florida

Patrick was rereading the Little Prince and listening to his recording of Camille Saint-Saens Le Carnival des Animaux when Candy came in and knelt down in front of him. She pushed his book down and smiled at him.

"Hey Patrick," she said, pulling a twenty dollar out of her leather jacket and giving it to him. "This came out of my tip money at the nail salon today. I know your daddy took all your money from that reading you did yesterday."

Patrick looked surprised and then pushed the money back. "I can't take your money, Candy."

"You can and you will," Candy said. "Now hurry up and put that away before your daddy catches us."

"What's the catch?" Patrick asked, tightly fisting the twenty-dollar-bill.

"Excuse me?" Candy asked, her eyes widening.

"You're giving me money," Patrick answered. "There must be a catch."

"No catch!" Candy hurried to assure him. "I promise."

"You don't want me to contact any dead relatives for you, predict your future, help you dig up repressed memories?"

"All my relatives are alive," Candy answered. "And as for my future, I would prefer not to know details. And if I'm repressing memories, it has to be for a reason. Right? The money is a gift, Patrick. I don't want anything from you."

Patrick still looked a little suspicious, but he pocketed the cash and resumed his reading.

"Hey, do you want to help me make some dinner?" Candy asked.

Patrick looked up from the Little Prince and raised an eyebrow. Apparently his father's new love interest was way more than heavy makeup and leather jackets. "You can cook?" he asked.

"Of course I can cook, sugar! I've been doing it ever since I was a little girl," Candy replied. "So, do you want to help me?"

He hesitated for a second and then nodded, putting the Little Prince aside. He got up and brushed his hands across his jeans. "So, what are we making?"

Candy pulled her jacket off and kicked off her high-heeled, snake skin pumps. "How about my world famous fried chicken, sweet tea and biscuits?"

"Do we even have ingredients for fried chicken?"

"You could always run to the store and get them," Candy answered, pulling a wad of money out of her skirt and handing it to him. "Hold on a second while I write you a list and then I'll clean the kitchen while you go to the grocery store."

"Okay," Patrick agreed, willingly.

An hour later, Candy was frying chicken while he followed her instructions to make biscuits, they had switched out his classical recording for one of her Barbra Streisand records, she was singing along loudly with the music in between telling him to add shortening and baking soda. After dinner was ready, they ate outside because the trailer had grown hot from having the stove on.

As the sun dipped below the trailer park, Patrick told himself not to get too attached to Candy because his father would eventually get bored with her and dump her, and then there would be another woman. Probably someone very unlikeable.

He didn't want to think about it.

.

Dear Teresa,

I like my father's new girlfriend. Her name is Candy and her favorite singer is Barbra Streisand, she owns every record that she's ever recorded. This weekend she taught me how to make fried chicken, biscuits, and southern sweet tea. The sweet tea was thick with sugar. She wears a lot of makeup and works at a nail salon, but she's nice. Nicer than most women my father brings home. I know it won't last though, they never do.

I hope you enjoyed your sleep over with Leah and that she didn't complain too much about the classical music. Eddie got a letter from her and she was telling him how much she hated classical music.

Halloween is in full swing at the trailer park too. Nobody does creepy like a trailer park, at least from what I've seen. Mrs. Miller decorates for harvest, not Halloween. So, her house is decked out in fake foliage and very real pumpkins, not one of them are carved either. Fred on the other hand, has carved tons of pumpkins already, each one spookier than the next.

Hope you're doing well, Nancy Drew. I am.

Sincerely,

Patrick

TBC. . .

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Author's Note:

Sorry for the delay in posting. Real life is CRAZY and yesterday, we had a storm that caused an internet outage. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you'll review. Until next week!

Love,

Holly, 9/13/2014_