The tears Soda had expected to cry came only once he was alone in his bedroom. He'd hugged Steve one more time before going home to his brothers, the trio having dinner and small talk then retreating to their own spaces for the night. So he was now by himself, crying quietly but freely.

Soda couldn't even imagine what he'd say to Darry about how he was feeling since the middle Curtis didn't want to repeat what Steve had told him. The confidence was too sensitive to share outside of their conversation, and Soda felt to do so would be a form of betrayal.

"Hey, little buddy, I meant to ask you if you have plans with-"

Soda didn't need to look at Darry to know why his big brother had stopped mid-sentence, the tears making him feel like he'd somehow been caught red-handed. "What was that, Dar? I'm fine, I swear."

Darry didn't even pretend to believe his younger brother, his concern immediate. "I was going to ask if you have plans with Penny this weekend, but that can wait. Why are you crying?"

Soda could see no use in lying as Darry came to sit beside him. Plus, he also found that it felt nice to have the focus on himself now, especially after he'd put plenty of effort into helping Steve get through a moment fraught with both truth and heartache. "Just somethin' Steve and me talked about. I kept myself calm then, you know, for him. But the stuff he said hurt me too."

"What kind of stuff? Is he still struggling with it being this time of year?"

"Yeah. But I think I've already cried as many tears as I can over that part of what happened. Steve was going back a lot further 'cause his flashbacks are what made him feel like dyin' in the first place."

"So you guys were talking about his memories of the abuse?" Darry saw Soda nod, more tears streaking down his younger brother's face to join the others that had already fallen. "What about them? Is it something you hadn't heard before now?"

Soda gave another nod, his head then finding its way to Darry's chest. "But I can't tell you. It's too private."

"I wasn't asking you to, Pepsi Cola." Darry hugged Soda as he felt the trembling that told him his brother continued to cry. "I don't need to know specifics to be here for you."

"It just makes me so sad, Darry. 'Cause Steve still gets where he feels ashamed and like he deserves to hurt. But he doesn't. He doesn't deserve anything bad. Ever."

"Of course he doesn't. Nobody deserves the pain from any type of abuse."

"He was really zeroin' in on one of his memories, and he told me everything about it. It wasn't new, but the way he's lookin' at it now is."

Darry rested his chin on top of Soda's head as he was taken back to the times he'd seen him cry upon learning what had happened to Steve, while also grappling with the magnitude of its effects. "That makes sense. You don't have to fill in all the blanks for me to understand. Our view of things changes and evolves, even when you're talking about an experience as traumatic as that was for him."

"My stomach hurts, Dar. 'Cause what Steve was sayin' makes me want to throw up. He keeps havin' to dig deeper, and I ain't sure it's the safest thing for him."

"It's probably still something he needs to do, little buddy. It might hurt, and maybe he'll need more support and love. But digging deeper is sometimes the only way to reach the end."

"Dad? Can I talk to you please?"

Nicholas had been able to tell that something was on Steve's mind, and he was even more sure of that as his son came out on the front porch with him. "Of course. I thought you'd gone to bed."

Steve had tried, quickly finding out that sleep was elusive. So he'd decided to do what he could for himself, even though rest would be likely to help the most. Sitting down on the porch swing, he wondered if his dad remembered why tomorrow would be important. And not just for Steve, but for Nicholas too. And for Soda. For everyone who loved him. "I sort of did. But I couldn't close my eyes without seeing things I didn't want to see. Or even feeling things I don't want to feel."

Nicholas recognized that Steve's words had more than one possible meaning, but he figured that last night's dream was the most likely culprit. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"Not really. Do you know what tomorrow is?"

"I do. It's September first. That whole month is stuck to my mind, Son. It will be for the rest of my life."

"Mine too. In some ways, I'm glad. 'Cause I don't need to forget. That could mean I'll hurt myself again. If I didn't remember, I might fall back into thinking like I did back then."

"But, in other ways, you're sad? I am too because I could've lost you, and even though I didn't, I don't think I'm capable of seeing what happened as any kind of blessing. But I'm still glad to remember that you're a survivor. I'm glad to remember that you came to me and got help when you needed it the most."

"I wish I could focus on just that part of it, but I keep thinking about the worst things, like the reasons I went through with trying to kill myself and the memories that created the path. I remember everything in pieces now, especially since last night when Soda and me talked about all the stuff that came just before."

"You mean just before your attempt?"

"Yeah. It didn't happen on its own. Laura called it a culmination, and it was that. Every piece of what was going on came together and made me feel like I couldn't go on anymore."

Nicholas could see Steve's eyes by the light of the porch, his son's faraway gaze telling him he'd already gone back in time to the place where he'd felt as if only a single solution existed. "But you did. You went on, and you figured out how to heal. September may be the month when I was scared to death, but it's also the month when I became a father twenty years ago. So I think about that too. How it felt to hold you in my arms after you were born and what it was like to know I'd be a dad forever. Nothing compares to that feeling, Son. You've been the best part of living for me, and I'm so damn grateful you kept going when it felt like you couldn't. Things changed the day you overdosed, but not as permanently as they could have if you hadn't called me."

"Yeah, I altered my life, but I didn't cause my own death. I'd never even thought about how ironic it is that I tried to die in the same month I was born. I've obviously seen pictures of you and Mom holding me when I was a baby, but I don't think about it a lot. I mean, it's not like I can remember anything, and it's weird to realize I was once this blank slate with no clue what would happen to me years later."

Nicholas couldn't look back at Steve's early childhood without a sense of longing for the days when certain pain and struggles didn't yet have a foundation on which to begin, and that small touch of nostalgia made him draw his son closer. "You were as innocent as anyone can be, and you had no reason to believe somebody else could hurt you."

"Not till I went to kindergarten and Bobby Perkins socked me in the face for wrecking his block tower."

Nicholas chuckled at Steve's timing, remembering how his son had told him the story back then. "And Sodapop got involved. He told that boy he wasn't supposed to be hitting his best friend, right?"

"He did. But, of course, our teacher made sure it didn't go any further. Bobby got sent to the principal's office, and I got ice for my face. I thought I was tough shit just 'cause I'd been in a little scuffle. Over some blocks, at that." Steve grew somber once again as he considered the difference between that physical injury, which had amounted to barely a bruise, and the psychological wounds he'd suffer several years after the kindergarten incident. "But it was so easy to heal from it. Bobby and me even sort of made up just days after. I think Soda was more pissed off than I was."

"Your mother was rather angry too. Heck, so was I. Which tells you a small but very important fact about your life."

"That nobody wanted me getting hurt by a bratty kid when I was six years old?"

"Well, that's true too. But what I'm actually thinking is something that goes far beyond grade school." Nicholas knew there was a stretch of time during which he had been neither fully present nor emotionally available to Steve, but this one thing had still been true even then. "No matter where you are or what battle you're fighting, you always have a family who will come to your defense."

"So I'm hopin' it'll be a romantic evening anyway. Penny deserves that, even if it's nothin' fancy."

Steve watched as Soda got ready for his date, his best friend donning a plaid shirt and the finest pair of jeans he owned. "I'm sure she'll be happy just to be out with you, man. You two have had a rocky few months."

Soda had to agree with this, as he and Penny had gone through a couple of rough patches during the summer months. At one point in June, they'd even come close to breaking up because of how much they'd clashed in regard to Emily. "We have, but thank God we got past it. Sometimes I felt like I'd have to pick between them, you know? And I couldn't have done it."

Steve knew Soda was referring to how he had feared that he'd need to choose either Penny or Emily, the new birth father uncertain how to maintain both facets of his life at the same time. "Of course you couldn't because you weren't meant to do that. You just needed to strike a balance and understand Penny's boundaries."

"I think it took her some time to figure those out too. She was so caught between wanting to hear about Emily and not really bein' able to listen to me talk about her at all. But, at the same time, she almost decided not to go off to school."

"I remember, buddy, and from what I could glean, it sounded like that was the main problem for her. She didn't know if she should stay or go. It felt like a moral dilemma, even though she couldn't deal the way you do."

"Yeah. So, now if she wants to hear about Emily, she tells me. Then I just give her what she wants, no more and no less. It works for us. Makes me feel not so damn divided, that's for sure."

Steve was cognizant of how Soda had plenty of experience with that particular feeling, his best friend so often the one who had loyalties all around. "Well, as long as it works for you and Penny, that's the whole point, right? It doesn't even matter what anybody else thinks. Hell, you're all about figuring out things for yourself, man. I guess I am too. We never do what people expect. We just work out our own paths."

Soda took notice of how Steve had veered slightly off-subject, the change stealing his attention from the impending date. "We do, but I never mentioned anything about what anybody else thinks or expects. Is there somethin' like that on your mind?"

As Steve debated on his answer, he wondered if he should brush the question off altogether, as he had dragged Soda down into the darkness with him enough to last them both a lifetime. "I don't know. I guess it must be. 'Cause I'm kind of feeling a little weird about everything I said yesterday."

"You are? Why, buddy? It was just between you and me, I promise you that. So there ain't anything for anybody else to think. Please don't let it bother you, Stevie. We've worked out our own path as far as talkin' about hard things, and it's somethin' I really love about us."

"I know. It's just that I get self-conscious sometimes after such an exposed moment, and I wonder what you think about me after. I wonder if I shouldn't have said what I did."

"Of course you should have as long as that's what you wanted to say. I remember you tellin' me you felt weird after those couple of nights in Kansas too. I guess it was for the same reason 'cause you let yourself be real open with me. You gave a voice to stuff you once believed couldn't have one." Soda recognized a link that he thought now seemed so obvious, and he knew he had to share it with Steve, especially with how his friend had been connecting the dots of his trauma and recovery. "Stevie, I bet you feel like that with some things because you were self-conscious when you first told me about the abuse. It scared you to realize I knew what happened, and you were worried about what I'd think. So now it's sort of like this flashback when you get the same feeling after we talk about somethin' especially tough."

"Maybe. You'd just think I'd be used to it by now though, not rambling about expectations or thinking about how far outside them I am."

"I ain't sure gettin' used to it would mean you don't ever get self-conscious anymore. It just means you do it anyway. That feeling doesn't stop you from talkin' to me about whatever you want 'cause you know what it says is a lie."

Steve could practically feel the intensity that accompanied Soda's words, the man's passion a reminder that he also spoke from experience. "My anxiety over this doesn't tell me the truth, huh? It takes me back to how I felt as a kid who couldn't tell anybody anything at all, let alone the really ugly stuff."

"Yeah, buddy. It makes sense, but there's nothin' you need to worry about now. You've already broken down all those walls, so self-consciousness, anxiety, insecurity, whatever you want to call it, it can't hold you back anymore."

Steve felt Soda's hand as it kept a firm touch on his back, his best friend's confidence in him something he wouldn't dream of taking for granted. "Soda, this might be too much to ask, but after your date tonight, would you come over and stay with me? You can totally say no, but I-"

"Of course I will. It doesn't even matter 'cause my answer ain't changin'. But I'm still wonderin' why. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I think so." Steve realized that he was having a hard time looking Soda in the eye, the fear based solely in the past having more of a grip on him than he cared to admit. "I'm just feeling like I need to spend as much time as I can with you and my dad."

Soda didn't have to ask where that desire had come from, knowing full well that Steve's anticipation of September had to be coming to a head since it was now the official beginning of the month. "And you can have that, Stevie. Heck, I probably need it too."

"Don't rush your date or anything though, man. Take your time with Penny, please. I don't want to be the reason you aren't with her enough before she goes off to Norman for the semester. I don't want to be the reason for anything that doesn't go right."

"You won't be. You never are. Besides, Penny likes to settle in pretty early anyway, and there ain't much difference to me between your house and mine. They're both like going home." Soda leaned closer to Steve, not letting his friend's eyes escape his own. "I'm not sure what you're needin' right now, but I think it could help you to hear me say you never have to worry about what I think of you. 'Cause it never changes. Nothin' you tell me about the past or about now could make that different. I know you've gotta remember me sayin' I still saw the same person after you first told me about that night and what Clara did. I do now too. So don't be scared or anxious over yesterday. Please don't give it one more thought."

"I'm doing it again, Soda. I'm putting you through more shit just 'cause my head can never be on straight for more than a few months at a time. I always think I have a handle on things until it turns out I really don't."

"Even if somethin' is botherin' you, that doesn't mean your head ain't on straight. I wouldn't say you don't have a handle on things either. If that was true, you-"

"Stop it, man! You're arguing with everything I say. You're contradicting every word that comes out of my mouth! I need you to hear me and just be here, not try to talk me out of every fuckin' feeling I've got right now. I can't switch them off, you know. I can't just decide I won't be self-conscious or anxious anymore. I can't decide to feel like I have it together when that's not where I am tonight. So can you please just shut up and listen?"

"Oh. I mean, I'm sorry. I wasn't tryin' to say the wrong thing or make it sound like you can change your feelings just 'cause you don't want them to be there. I guess I should know that doesn't work, shouldn't I? Anyway, I'm real sorry, Stevie, and I'll try to be a better friend."

Steve immediately wished he could take back what he'd just said, realizing he'd been way too harsh when Soda's heart was so set on encouraging him. "Damn it, Soda. Don't listen to me, buddy. I'm the one who said the wrong thing, not you, and I ought to kick my own ass for being the guy who put that look on your face."

"I'd love to see you try to do that."

Steve hadn't anticipated the joke or the amusement that was seeping into Soda's expression. "What? Kick my own ass? Eh, I don't know, man. I think I'd miss. I'm sorry for what I said a minute ago. And there's no way you could be a better friend. Honestly, brother, you're the best there is."

Soda's face filled with a smile, the moment of hurt already mostly forgotten. "Hell, I know I am. That's why you could talk to me like you just did."

"I could be a jerk 'cause you're the best friend there is?"

"Yep. You knew you could say whatever you were thinkin', no matter how it came out."

"Well, it came out wrong and like I got pissed at you when I'm really not."

Soda felt his smile falter as the lightheartedness he'd managed to bring into their interaction began to vanish. "I know you ain't pissed at me. Look, you're kind of right, okay? I was arguin' with you a lot, and I did sound like you can turn off those feelings. But it's only 'cause I want you to see the truth, not get too buried in what they're tellin' you. I can see why you'd feel everything you do though, even why you think your head ain't on straight."

"But I was mean. You're doing the best you can for me and I-" Steve was overcome by the urge to cry, something about the way Soda was looking at him and being so understanding making it so he was unable to do anything else.

Soda saw Steve's face crumble, sudden tears sliding to his friend's cheeks. "Hey, buddy, it's okay. I ain't mad. Not at all. It hurt a little, yeah, but seein' you like this is a whole lot worse."

"Soda, I don't know why I can't let it go. It happens sometimes. We snap at each other over things. We've both done that."

"Yeah." Soda licked his lips as he carefully thought about what he wanted to say next, sensing that Steve was straddling a thin line between sadness and anger. "Which makes me think you might not be cryin' about that, even though it looks like you are. Somethin' else is underneath this. Probably what you were tryin' to tell me before about feelin' like you don't have a handle on things or maybe the stuff from last night. But, no matter what it is, I'll listen to you, all right?" As he heard Steve continue to cry, Soda felt himself go back through all the moments where he had also shed many tears, remembering the times he'd been overwhelmed and the days that had seemed too painful to bear. He and Steve always shared a basically even give and take, each friend helping and comforting the other regardless of circumstances, tension, or personal uncertainty. Inspired by such a reflection, Soda wrapped Steve in his arms, realizing the other man was needing it so often lately. "You want to know what I'm rememberin' right now?"

Steve only broke down further once he had the physical touch, sobbing into Soda's chest as he replied. "What?"

"How you've never let me be alone in whatever I'm grapplin' with. Not even when I was angry and took it out on you like you did somethin' bad. I'm rememberin' how the more hurt and confused I felt, the more you made sure I had a safe place to talk and cry."

"Yeah. You do the same thing for me." Steve knew Soda was doing just that right now as his friend kept him close. He took a shaky breath, his tears drying up a little bit, even though he wasn't yet ready to let go. "Soda, I think I'm missing something."

"Okay. Like what?"

"That's just it. I don't know. But I think there's more to this than all these feelings I've already dealt with over the last two years. Or all the memories I've been through over and over again."

"So you think there's somethin' you just can't see yet? Is it 'cause of this bein' September now?"

"Maybe that's part of it." Steve could've sworn he felt Soda squeeze him so much tighter at those words, knowing his best friend would always have some lingering trauma of his own when it came to his suicide attempt. "But I'm feeling like that's not all. There's another thing, and it's what makes me feel out of control. It's what's making me cry."

"It's like I said, huh? Except there's somethin' underneath everything else too, not just you bein' too hard on yourself over snappin' at me."

"Yeah. I think there's a sadness really deep inside me and I need to figure out how to undo it." Steve let himself remain held in the hug that temporarily sheltered him from the string of questions whose answers were invisible, predicting that what his heart was seeking lay within the realm of spirituality.

"It's probably a good thing that it's too late to change my mind about going. Because I still feel like I could in a heartbeat."

Soda had brought Penny to the drive-in theater, hoping for an evening that would be not only one of romance, but also one of escapism. "But you won't. 'Cause you know you're doin' just what you're meant to. And, before you know it, you'll be a nurse."

Penny wished the plan could be so short-lived, but she knew she had a lot of studying ahead of her before she could land that coveted career. "I love your faith in me, but I have plenty of classes to take before I even get to my major."

"Well, I know, but you still get to look forward to it anyway." Soda took Penny's hand, a grin on his face before he leaned over to kiss her on the lips.

Realizing she'd miss these moments, Penny responded in kind, her body nearly melting under Soda's as she allowed him to lay her down on the seat of his car. "Sodapop, you know I-"

"I know, babe." Soda hadn't forgotten how Penny now felt about sex, the act associated with both the pangs of childbirth and the ache brought on in the process of adoption. "I ain't doin' that. I'm just enjoyin' us as much as I can tonight." Soda kissed Penny, wishing he could do so endlessly. "I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too." Penny felt herself be swept away by Soda's touches, all of her anxieties about being away from home and her birth daughter lost in an abyss created by the arts of pleasure and distraction. As the man she loved expressed his feelings for her, stopping just short of the most intimate manner to do so, Penny did the same, her hands and lips doing their part in bringing them both to paradise.

"Man, that is so damn cliché. You went to the drive-in and didn't even see the movie."

Soda was on the Randles' back porch with Steve as the hour closed in on 11:00 P.M., the date he and Penny had shared now a pleasant memory. "We saw a little bit of it. But the picture was nothin' new, and I guess the night just wasn't supposed to be about that anyway. It was about us makin' sure we feel connected and stuff."

Steve tried to imagine himself with a woman, the idea purely hypothetical, as he had yet to seek out another romantic relationship. "Yeah, I get what you mean. You guys need that for when she's away."

"I've always thought I'd be more upset, you know? I mean, about Penny going someplace else for college. But I'm really okay, even though that time is pretty much here."

"Because you know she's doing what she wants the most, and you've been hearing about it since you two met. Besides, Norman's not so far away. I'm sure that helps a lot too."

"Yeah, it's just a couple hours. But, then again, maybe it hasn't hit me yet. I could go see her off then cry for days afterward."

"Maybe. But it's okay if you do. The way I'm going, I might cry right along with you."

"Was everything okay while I was out?"

Steve hadn't meant to pique his best friend's concern, but he knew he had done so, Soda's expression telling him as much. "Yeah, buddy, it was fine. I played cards with my dad. Spent time with him, like I wanted to tonight."

"And now you're spendin' time with me too."

"Exactly." Steve put his arm around Soda's shoulders as his mind went back through all the nights they'd spent on porches and in each other's bedrooms, the essence of their friendship evolving in response to problems that also could've severed their bond. "I think you and Penny will be just fine though. I've personally seen what happens when you care about someone with all your heart, and I'm sure that once it's all said and done, that physical distance won't even seem like an obstacle."

Samuel poured lemonade into each of three glasses before he took Emily's bottle from the water that had warmed it up. After testing the milk on his wrist, he handed it to the baby, her chubby hands reaching up to hold it as she sucked on the nipple. "Now, you drink up, baby girl. Then we'll show Sodapop here how much you love some applesauce while he and Steve tell me how I got so lucky as to get a visit from both of them at the same time."

Steve detected a note of sarcasm in Samuel's tone, taking a glass of lemonade as he spoke. "Yeah, your daddy's so lucky, Em. We decided to grace him with our presence in order to kill two birds with one stone. Soda, your topic is the one with the higher stakes, man, so you should go first."

Soda took a glass of lemonade as well as he watched Emily devour her milk, her hand also reaching for the applesauce Samuel had gotten from the refrigerator. "Well, um, I was just wonderin'. I mean, I know this is an open adoption, but I'm kinda nervous about some stuff. So I wanted to ask if there's any plan for what ya'll will tell Emily when she's older. We sort of talked about that before, but it wasn't real specific."

Samuel took a seat next to his daughter's highchair, spoon-feeding her applesauce once she had put the bottle down. "Okay. The plan is and always has been for her to know that she's adopted someday. What are you nervous about?"

Soda noticed the look Steve was sending his way, his friend's nod then telling him to go on. "Uh, I guess I'm worried that Emily won't know who me and Penny are. It's ya'll's decision what to tell her and when, of course. But it bothers me to think about her gettin' older and not knowin' how she got here or why I'm around. It's all so real now that she's in front of me and growin' like a weed. I feel like I'll blink, then she'll be askin' questions about who I am."

"So you want to know what exactly we'll tell Emily and when. I think a lot depends on her, so we don't have a perfect timeline yet. But she'll know who you two are, Sodapop. That's been our intention all along. I haven't mentioned it before, but I knew someone who was adopted back when I was in seminary. She didn't know until she was almost an adult because her family kept it from her. She took the secret to mean she should be ashamed, and I don't want that for Emily. I know there can be a stigma about certain things, so maybe her parents had their reasons. But still, I want better for our daughter."

"Me too. If I ever knew anybody else who was adopted, it sure wasn't somethin' they talked about. Maybe 'cause they didn't know either. And they definitely didn't have a situation like this one."

"No. Just sealed and never spoken of again, as if it didn't happen. That could be for the best sometimes, but it would never work for us. As soon as Emily's old enough, we'll have conversations about how she came to be part of our family and about Matthew. Your parents too. The adoption will be something normal for her, not a huge secret that'll upend her life years down the road."

"Yeah, that makes sense. If she's a little kid when she finds out, maybe she'll accept it as just part of who she is." Soda felt Emily's hand on his arm, the infant's fingers grasping his sleeve as she smiled at him with a tooth starting to peek through and applesauce on her face. He could already picture the toddler she'd soon be, and the path of their conversation led him to also imagine her as an older child and a teenager. "Then it won't be a shock."

Steve had stepped aside minutes earlier, only a listener as Soda and Samuel talked, but the look on his best friend's face was his cue to speak. "Soda? Buddy, you look like you're in shock. Are you okay?"

Soda wasn't sure, but he nodded nonetheless, his hand now holding Emily's. "Yeah. Just thinkin' ahead a little bit too much, that's all."

While Samuel realized he couldn't predict what the future may hold for his family or how the rest of Emily's story would unfold from her perspective, he knew his daughter would grow up loved. In the spirit of this very knowledge, he reached out to Soda with an unwavering confidence. "We'll all do the most we can for her, Sodapop. And, ultimately, Emily will always have two families, so she'll get the best of two different worlds."