Yes, my work schedule cooperated and I was actually able to keep my promise about this chapter being up within a few days, lol. Sadly that doesn't always happen.

Thanks for the feedback to the previous chapter. :-)

"Okay, one more question," Angela muttered. "Then I take a break." She opened the practice test book for physics to a random page. "The color of an opaque object is the same as the light that is…" She scanned the possible answers. "Oh! C, reflected." After double checking her answers, she decided she had more than earned her break.

Eric had gone for his shift at the Student Union a few hours ago, and she felt a little weird being here alone. She suspected that wouldn't be the case if he lived by himself, but this was Jack and Rachel's home, too, and she didn't want to accidentally eat their food or overstep a boundary. Would they be okay with her here by herself? Eric insisted it was fine, but she still wondered.

Angela was in the middle of raiding Eric's shelf in the fridge when her phone rang. Her father said he'd call today. "Hi, dad."

"Angela?"

"Who is this?"

"It's Aunt Lois, honey."

"Oh…hi."

"I got your number from your Nan's address book. I hope that's all right. If it's a bad time or-"

"It's fine. I just thought you were my dad calling to check in." She abandoned the food and went to sit in the living room. "How are you?"

"I'm all right. It's been an emotional week."

"I'm sorry I ran out of the funeral home."

"That's okay. I understand. I want to apologize for your mother."

"No, Aunt Lois, you don't have to-"

"Yes, I do. That was supposed to be your time with your grandmother. Camille knew that. I don't know why she couldn't listen for once."

"Who knows why she does anything that she does?" Angela sighed, feeling agitated at the mentions of her mother. Still, she didn't want to take it out on her great aunt. "Is there a reason you were calling?"

"Aside from apologizing I wanted to give you the information for the cemetery if you'd like to visit when you're ready."

"Sure. Just let me-let me get something to write on." She looked around and took the very first piece of paper she saw. "Go on."

"She's interred at Glenwood Memorial Gardens in Broomall. Do you need me to give you directions?"

"I can look it up."

"Okay. I'll let you go. I'm sure you have a busy, fun-fill Saturday planned with your boyfriend. Eric, right?"

"Yes, his name is Eric. But really, you're not bothering me. Eric's at work until tonight and I'm studying for finals."

"Then I will let you get back to your studies."

"Wait, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Before she died Nan told me that she had something important to talk to me about. She never told me what it was, just that it was important we talk. I put it off because I never imagined that she would…that she…that she wouldn't be around to tell me herself." Angela took a deep breath. "Do you know what it was? Was it about my mother?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know. She never mentioned anything to me. Whenever she spoke of you it was to brag. She was very proud of you. She missed you, but understood you had your own life."

Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "Oh."

"I wish I could help you more."

"It's not your fault." She wiped away the few tears that escaped. "I suppose I deserve it for not coming to visit for so long."

"The only thing you deserve is to be happy. Nan would want it that way. She wouldn't want you to torture yourself for the rest of your life."

"Okay," she whispered.

"Sometime in the next few weeks I'm going to start sifting through her belongings. I haven't seen it yet, but she did have a will and has itemized who will get certain items. You can meet me at the house one day and select some things you'd like to have that she hasn't left anyone."

"Can I have her Bundt cake pans?" So many special occasions were celebrated with Nan's Bundt cakes. Every year on her birthday Angela got a special one made just for her, a different flavor every time. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of cake Nan would've made her this year.

"You can have whatever you want. Like I said, we can choose a day once your finals are completed. And I swear to you, it will be just us."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll let you get back to your books. Feel free to call me if you want to talk. I don't want us to be strangers."

"I don't want that either."

"Good. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye."

Angela set the phone down before resting her head in her hands. She'd hoped Lois would know what Nan had wanted to say. And regardless of what her aunt told her, it was a punishment. She was such an awful granddaughter, blaming her grandmother for her mother's sins. What else did she deserve except the torture of never knowing? Food was no longer appealing and she decided to go back to Eric's room. Just as she was getting comfortable her phone rang again. She had to put the thing on silent. "Dad, hi, look this isn't a good time. Can I call you-"

"Angela, it's me."

She froze. "Mom?"

"Hi."

"How did you get my number? Did you go through Nan's address book, too?"

"I hit *69 on Aunt Lois's phone."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"I'm going to be in town for a couple more days. I'd like to see you before I go back to Atlanta."

"No. It's not happening."

"We should talk. I want to explain what happened all those years ago. Tomorrow is Mother's day and I-"

Angela laughed. It was either that or cry. "Mother's day? You think I give a damn about Mother's day? I haven't had a reason to celebrate since I was nine. Do you know what it's like, year after year to see all the greeting cards and be bombarded by ads about treating mom to a special brunch?" Her mother was silent. "Every year dad would write my teachers a note, excluding me from having to make some shitty craft with the rest of the class. And since we traveled so much I had to deal with questions from new people every year about where my mom was. Do you know what that feels like?"

"I still have the clay heart you made for me when you were in kindergarten."

When she closed her eyes she could see that little heart. It had been a thrill to give her mommy something she made with her own hands. She was so excited she ran full force to give it to her. Unfortunately, being five and a bit clumsy, she tripped and the heart slipped from her grasp, splitting in two when it hit the ground. She cried, sobbed really, over that broken heart. After soothing tears and fixing a skinned knee, Camille took out the crazy glue. She said it was the best gift she had ever gotten, crack and all. "I bet it comes in handy when there's a wobbly table leg to stabilize."

"Don't do this."

"I didn't."

"I know," Camille said softly.

"I don't want your apologies or your excuses. I want nothing from you. So go, go back to Atlanta with your real kids and forget all about me. It shouldn't be that difficult. You seem to be an expert at forgetting when it comes to me."

"I've never forgotten you, June Bug."

"I told you not to call me that!"

"I'm sorry. If you ever change your mind and want to hear my side of the story-"

"Don't hold your breath."

/

/

Eric checked his watch. He was only halfway through with his shift. How was time moving so slowly when it was this busy? There was a lull right now, but students had been in and out all morning, getting a caffeine fix to help fuel their finals cramming. Heck, he'd seen some people more than once today already. He wondered if he looked as frazzled when he was studying. It was nice to not feel as nervous for once. He was fairly confident he'd do well on next week's exams. Maybe he wouldn't be pulling in A's, but there would some B's in there.

He looked up from the dishwasher just as Shawn strolled in. They made eye contact briefly before he rerouted his course and headed for a table near the door. Eric sighed. He was the only one working and couldn't very well ignore him, could he? It figured he showed up during a slow point. Where were all the people when he needed them? He couldn't even pretend to be too busy to see Shawn, Angela wanted him to be civil, though after everything he's learned he wasn't sure how that was supposed to happen. Still, Eric knew he needed to try, for Angela. Before he could give it another thought, he grabbed the order pad and a pen. "What do you want?"

Shawn hadn't expected Eric to be bold enough to approach him. They'd more or less been avoiding each other since he and Angela got together, even more so since Jack and Rachel's dinner party from hell. The only consolation Shawn had was that Eric didn't look thrilled to be waiting on him. "That's okay. I'll wait."

"You'll be waiting a while then. No one else is here until two."

He rolled his eyes and considered his options. He had to be at the photography studio soon. This was a pit stop. "Fine. Get me a large coffee and are there any of those breakfast sandwiches left? The ones where it's after twelve so they're half off?"

"There's a couple, yeah."

"I'll take two of those."

"Okay."

"To go," Shawn added.

"I'm not begging you to stay." Eric was halfway back to the counter when he turned back around and went to Shawn's table, taking a seat. "This is getting a little old."

"If you mean the breakfast sandwiches fine, I'll take a couple doughnuts instead."

"Not the food. This," he said, gesturing between them. "Us."

"What are you getting at?"

"We should call a truce."

"Are you kidding me? You swooped in and made a move on the only girl I've ever loved and you want to call a truce?"

"I didn't swoop in and-" He shook his head. "Whatever. I'm not asking for me or even you. Frankly, ever since that dumb dinner party it's taking all my self-control to not pound the crap out of you."

Shawn wanted to be mad, but he still hated himself for putting his hands on Angela. If he found out someone else had done it there would be a jail cell and charges involved once he got done with the guy. "Okay, and?"

"We're thrown together a hell of a lot. Your best friend is Cory and mine is Jack. We go to the same school and see each other all of the time. I don't think it's possible for us to completely avoid each other. Plus Angela's been dealing with a lot of crap lately and I don't want to add to it by having her worry about us."

"What's going on with Angela?"

"Stuff."

"Come on, don't be so vague."

"It's not my news to tell."

"It's bad though, right? Something happened at her grandmother's service? You called it a disaster. Something with her mom?"

"If Angela wants people to know then she'll say something."

Loyalty had always been one of Eric's finer attributes. If you were important to him he had your back. That remained constant no matter how crazy he acted. Though Shawn wouldn't call dating a friend's ex loyal behavior, Angela deserved the steadfast support. "So what is this truce?"

"It's simple. When it's just the two of us we can ignore each other for all I care, but when the others are around I think we can manage to be polite."

"The same way you'd treat a stranger?"

"If that's how you want to look at it, fine."

"Yeah, whatever," he said after thinking it over for a minute.

Eric nodded. "Good."

"Could you get my food before I'm late for work?"

"Sure." He got up and headed for the counter.

"Oh, Eric, I'm glad you're here. Do you have a minute?"

"Sure, Dean. What's going on?"

"Do you have time to stop by my office on Monday?"

Eric went over his schedule in his head. "I have finals, but I should be free after four."

"That's perfect. I will see you at four fifteen."

"What is it about?"

"I'd really rather discuss this in private."

He frowned. What did that mean? "Um…okay. Is something wrong?"

"I'll see you on Monday."

"But-"

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I'm already running late for my conference. Don't forget, Monday!"

She rushed out of the Student Union so fast he didn't have time to ask another question. He looked at Shawn, who saw the whole thing. "That can't be good, right?"

/

/

"I'm telling you, Carrie, this is the way to do Mother's day," Amy said into the phone. "I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. I've got the house to myself all weekend. Last night I took a hot bath, had a glass of wine, and rented movies I wanted to watch. And I got to order takeout without input from anyone else. Today I'm going to make a batch of cookie dough. Maybe it will become cookies or maybe I'll just eat the dough. Who knows? Then I'm going to be a total hypocrite and leave the dishes until tomorrow at the very last minute." She laughed. "I know, right? When you're young you think the ideal holiday would be a romantic trip to London or Paris. Now I think the best thing is to just be left the hell alone for a few days. Even if I was in Paris I'd still be changing dirty diapers and listening to a teenager whine. I'd just be doing it with a view of the Eiffel Tower." She laughed again. "Exactly. I don't know if this will work next year but I'm definitely going to try. Talk to you later."

Just as she was heading to the kitchen to get started on her cookie dough, the doorbell rang. "Angela, hello."

"Hi. I thought I would see if Morgan wanted me to help her with that poem for her English homework. I know it's not due for a little while, but why not get it done early, right?"

"Morgan's in Atlantic City visiting her grandmother this weekend for Mother's day."

"Oh. I forgot about that." She remembered Eric saying something about Amy wanting peace and quiet at least once. "And now I'm disturbing your whole empty house thing. I'll go." She leaned against the doorframe and made no attempts to leave. "Sorry."

"You don't have to leave."

"No, it's okay. I just showed up unannounced and rang the doorbell. And this is your big weekend to yourself." Her original plan had been to keep Eric company at work, but then she worried about being in his way or worse, clingy. Still, she couldn't continue to sit alone in the apartment. It wasn't until on the bus that she realized she was headed to the Matthews' home. She had been operating on autopilot.

"You know, having the house to yourself isn't as big a thrill as I thought."

She shook her head. "You don't have to placate me. I'm not a baby. You're a good mother who deserves to enjoy Mother's day. I don't want to get in the way of that." She turned to leave, but was stopped when Amy put a hand on her arm. "Just tell Morgan to give me a call and we can set up a time to work on her poem."

"It's too quiet here. So, really, you're saving me. I could use the company." She wrapped her arm around Angela's shoulders, relieved that she didn't pull away, and led her inside. "I've been going crazy without someone to talk to."

"Well, maybe for a few minutes."

"Good. And for the record, you are never in the way. You're welcome here anytime. You know that. Or, you should."

"Thanks." She took a seat on the couch, unsure of what to do with herself. "I appreciate that."

"I was so sorry to hear about your grandmother. How are you holding up? Are you okay?"

Tears almost immediately came to Angela's eyes. She wasn't sure if they were because of her grandmother, her conversations with her mother and Aunt Lois, or all of the above. "I-I'm okay."

Amy wasn't fooled. Not for a minute. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Do you want a hug?"

Angela shook her head, but leaned in and accepted the embrace anyway. It was foreign yet familiar, bringing to mind the times Camille would comfort her as a child. If she squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated hard enough, Angela swore she could smell her favorite floral scented conditioner. How long had it been since she's felt a mother's hug? One of those, 'the world is falling apart, but it's okay because I've got you' hugs? The gentle hand smoothing her hair and the hushed reassurances in her ear were her breaking point. Whatever remained of her stoic resolve fled. If there was such a thing as a mom hug Amy was a master.

"It's okay, sweetie." She swayed from side to side much the way she did when trying to soothe Joshua to sleep. "It's all going to be okay."

"What did I do wrong," she cried, clinging more tightly to Amy with every word. "Why didn't she want me?"

Amy had to really focus to catch the words between the sobs. "Who?"

"My mom-she…she has k-kids. Two of them…boy and girl."

"I know we haven't spent much time together and I can't pretend I understand why your mother did what she did, but I know it had nothing to do with you."

Angela pulled away a little, more composed than before. She accepted the box of tissues from the coffee table and wiped her eyes. "I used to think that. All these years I told myself she left because she didn't want a family. But that's not true. She just…she just didn't want me." Fresh tears fell from her eyes. "Why wasn't I worth sticking around for?"

"You are worth it. You are. Don't ever doubt that."

"You don't even know me."

"Maybe not, but I can see the positive effect you have on the people around you, Eric especially. That tells me everything I need to know." When Angela didn't say anything, she continued. "And for the record, I would love to get to know you better. I want to."

"I'll try to work on that."

"No pressure. Are you okay," she asked, patting the younger woman's hand.

"I'll get there eventually. I always do. I don't have a choice."

Amy couldn't decide if that answer was brave or sad. "Do you want to keep talking?"

"Not really."

"Do you want to bake cookies with me?"

"What?"

"I was just about to bake a batch. Do you want to help?"

"That's okay," Angela said as she stood reluctantly. "I've ruined enough of your weekend."

"You ruined nothing. We'll call it step one in getting to know each other."

It was a little odd, but what the heck. "I guess that would be nice."

"Great. What's your favorite?"

"Cookies in general are good, but if I have to pick a favorite I suppose it would be snickerdoodles."

Amy grinned. "Mine, too. See how perfect this is? Let's go." While on their way to the kitchen Angela stopped in front of the piano. "What is it?"

"My mom taught me how to play. She's a musician and when I turned four she began to teach me. I miss it, but I haven't been able to touch one since she left. My best memories of us are wrapped up in a piano."

"If you ever change your mind…that's a good piano."

"Can we make cookies now?"

"Sure."

/

"Mom!" Eric came up path to the backyard where his mother was sitting on the bench. She'd called him earlier to tell him that Angela was here. He'd wanted to get here sooner, but had to finish his shift at the Student Union and then check on a few things at the store for his dad. "Is Angela okay?"

"She's fine. She fell asleep while we were watching a movie. I haven't checked on her in a while, but I think she's still sleeping."

He took a seat beside her. "What did she say? Why didn't she call me?"

"I think she just needed a mother's perspective."

"You're great at that, all the mom stuff. The best."

"Thank you. It's nice to hear sometimes."

"Sorry for not saying it more. I-" He stopped talking when music seeped out from the open kitchen window. The notes were stilted and quiet, giving away the rust of the musician, but he could make out enough to tell it was a song, instead of keys being hit at random. "Is that Angela?"

"There's no one in the house but her." She put her hand on Eric's arm, halting his efforts to go inside. "Don't."

"But mom, I-"

"Eric, no. She's not playing for us. It's between Angela and whatever inner demons she's fighting. In fact it's best to pretend it never happened because I don't think we're meant to hear this."

He settled back in his seat, albeit reluctantly. "Here," he said, handing an object to his mother. "Happy one day early Mother's day."

"Oh, thank you. I already said you didn't have to get me-" Her smile quickly turned to confusion. "Um, honey?"

"Yeah?"

"It's a turkey."

"I know. I made it myself."

"Not that I don't appreciate it, but why a turkey? It's not Thanksgiving."

"Yeah, but you always got excited when I brought you something I made in school and the handprint turkey was the only thing I could remember how to make. And maybe it's not Thanksgiving, but after some of the stuff I've seen lately I realize how lucky I am. I know I don't always make it easy, but thanks for being my mom."

"It's my pleasure, honey."

/

/

Monday afternoon Eric was sitting in the courtyard, enjoying the weather and killing a few minutes before his meeting with Dean Bolander. He had no clue what she wanted to talk about and, try as he might, would not give him any hints. It was driving him crazy.

"So, did you get it?"

He tried not to smile at Angela as she ran over to him. "Get what?"

"Don't pull a guessing game with me. You know what. Did you get the results of your statistics final yet?"

"I just took it this morning."

"But you said you might find out your score right away because you were nagging Professor Hayes." She pouted and stomped her foot. "Don't hold out on me."

"Fine," he said, exhaling in a dramatic fashion as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, "if you're going to force me…."

Angela yanked the paper from his hand and skimmed it. "You got a B+!"

"Yep."

"And you were teasing me like that?"

"Yep."

She read the paper again. "B+…that means your final grade for the class is a B-."

"Yep."

Why was he being so nonchalant? This was big. "Can't you say anything else?"

"You're pretty?"

Angela threw her arms around him. "I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you."

"I'm kinda proud of me, too."

"Good, you should be."

"I mean it's nothing compared to your A's, but-"

"Nope, I'm not going to let you sell yourself short, not today. You've worked too hard."

"Does that mean you're going to live up to your promise?"

"Promise?"

"You said if I got a B- in statistics you'd treat me to a date- a blood and guts zombie movie."

She hadn't forgotten, but almost hoped he had. "A promise is a promise. You earned this."

"I wouldn't have been able to do it without your help."

"Yes, you would have."

"Still." Eric pulled her close for a kiss, not caring about the other people around. "Thanks for having faith in me." He kissed her once more before moving away. "We'll definitely get back to celebrating later. I have to get to the administration building."

"Why?"

"Dean Bolander wants to see me."

"Is anything wrong?"

He shrugged. "She's probably blanking on a present idea for Feeny and wants to come to the expert."

/

"Okay, Dean, I'm here," Eric declared. "What's the big, super-secret meeting about? You want to get an early start planning something special for Feeny's birthday? I don't blame you. He's tough. Good news is we have until October to-"

"Have a seat," Lila said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk.

He tried to shove down the feeling of impending doom that came over him. You don't sit for good news. "This is bad, isn't it? People never want you to sit down unless it's bad. When's the last time someone said, 'Sit down. I'm giving you a promotion'. Or, 'here's the keys to your brand new car.' Probably never, right?" He walked over to the chair, but stood beside it instead.

"Eric, please? Sit."

"Oh, now you're saying please? Yeah...not good news for me, huh?" He hesitated momentarily before taking a seat. "Okay," he exhaled, "let me have it."

"First of all, I want to apologize for letting this fall through the cracks and because it was the college's faulty communication, we are going to work with you and allow you to choose the necessary classes even though the summer registration deadline has passed."

"What are you talking about? I'm not taking classes this summer."

"If you want to graduate as planned you will." She handed over an envelope.

"What's this?"

"It's a letter stating that you are currently short credits and if you don't take additional classes you won't graduate in the Spring of 2000."

He frowned. "What's wrong with my credits?"

"Between a failed class and dropping a class or two during your freshman and sophomore years I'm afraid, as it stands right now, you will be short credits even if you take a full course load your senior year."

Eric skimmed the year old letter. "Is this a joke?"

"I'm afraid not."

"But I don't get it. How did this happen?"

"Did you really believe there would be no consequences to failing and then not making up the credits? Or dropping a class with no fallback?"

"I don't-I don't know. I guess once classes were over I put them out of my mind." He slumped down in the chair. "Why didn't anyone warn me?"

"While I admit the lack of official mail was the fault of the school and perhaps your advisor should've called a meeting and been more proactive, ultimately your education is your responsibility. This isn't kindergarten or even high school. You're in college, Eric. It's time to be an adult."

"I'll just talk to Mr. Feeny and maybe he can-"

"George cannot fix this for you." While there were many things Lila admired about George as an educator, he seemed to have trouble knowing when to let go and let them grow...certain students anyway. There was a difference between guiding and coddling. "You have to fix it. Now obviously I and other faculty will be here for guidance, but there will be no saving."

"But my grades this year were good. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Of course it does. You've had a very good year. It proves that when you apply yourself you can accomplish great things. And I have no doubts that if you commit to summer school you can correct your path."

All he could think about was how excited Angela was with each passing grade he received. She seemed more thrilled with his average marks than she was with her own straight A's. What was she going to think of him when she found out about this?

"You know," she continued, "I remember just a few years ago a young man barged his way into my office- two days after he blew off his scheduled interview, by the way. He sat right where you are now and said all his life people told him about his potential and everything they believed him capable of. This young man said that he finally wanted to see what that potential was, that he was tired of being scared and letting his failures define how he viewed himself. He wanted to learn and grow. He wanted to be challenged and dared me to let this university live up to its potential by accepting him."

"Do you remember all your interviews that well," he asked, eyes fixed on her name plate.

"Only the ones who truly impressed me." She offered a kind smile. "Why don't you come back in a few days to pick your summer classes?"

He nodded, still unable to look at her. This was supposed to be his last summer as...not a kid, but the last time in his life before he really had to grow up. "Yeah. I guess I better get to the Student Union, start making that extra tuition money."

"Eric," Dean Bolander called out as he reached the door. "Don't let this setback define you. Learn from it. Grow. Rise to the challenge. I know that you can."

"I'm glad one of us is sure."