I haven't responded to any reviews for the past couple of chapters like I normally do, and for that I apologize. However, I don't think I'm going to take up answering reviews for a while as I am in kind of a funk. Read this whole author's note if you want to know why. Yes, I know it is probably as long as the actual chapter here, sorry. If you just want to read the story, skip ahead.

I made initial warnings at the outset on this story and request that you please use your best judgment as to whether this is the best story for you, given whatever past trauma you may have. For the guest reader that has bad associations with the name Bill, I did consider doing a general edit, but as I am sure you are well aware we should judge based on character rather than name and there are many great Bills out there. I would hope some desensitization here might help when it comes to real life. But I won't be offended if you don't read on. I will say that as far as I know, the worst is behind us as far as what has personally happened to Bill and Jane.

In real life we are struggling emotionally due to matters involving our daughter. I think I need a warning for the next paragraphs, don't read if sensitive to exploitation/molestation issues in RL. I sure will understand if you skip to the actual story. One really great thing did happen recently: my husband and I finished writing our movie script (writing more than three drafts) and submitted it to a producer two days ago who wanted to read it. However, its been radio silence from the producer so far, so I hope our efforts were not in vain.

My husband and I went out to dinner yesterday to celebrate being done with the script, but I felt like I was spoiling it, because without having the script to concentrate on I was feeling upset about our daughter and ended up crying and pulling myself together about three times during dinner. It sucked. We were seated right next to the table where I had taken our daughter to celebrate her 21st birthday; poor guy, he didn't know.

Despite no longer being our daughter E's guardian we are still in the thick of it during the transitional period. For those that don't know, we adopted E out of foster care when she was 16, and despite all our efforts at 22 she is still incredibly self-destructive and subject to exploitation that she willingly participates in.

A few months back E tearfully confessed that her boyfriend was having sex with her when she was asleep and asked us to talk to him about it to make it stop. She had us talk to him about not pestering her for sex (he would ask over and over until she would finally give in, when she didn't want it), multiple times, and nothing changed in the least on that. Knowing this, we reported it to adult protective services. The police and social worker investigated, E and her boyfriend both told them what happened and he insisted that it was okay for him to do that and he got arrested, indicted and was in jail awaiting trial for second-degree rape (victim unable to consent). She blamed us, hated us, etc., filed to get out of her guardianship, lied during his probable cause hearing and the domestic violence hearing that we brought to protect her from him, and did everything she could to take back her true statements and protect him, and blamed us for the whole situation. In the course of her seeking to get off her guardianship, which we opposed and was not granted, we concluded we could no longer be her guardians when she was trying to thwart all our efforts to protect her and let the state take over, which happened last month, but the state didn't have a placement for her after her apartment lease ended.

E stayed with us one night last week before going to stay with her birth sister three hours away. We had just two rules of her: be at our house after 10 pm and no fooling around with any guys at our house. To help enforce the later, my husband had our boys have a couple of other boys over for a sleepover, so there were kids in the basement and one on an inflatable mattress in front of our sliding glass door with views of our front and kitchen doors; I also stayed to work at home the next day because my husband had appointments and we didn't trust her to be alone with just our kids. We did allow her to have a friend over but tried to generally supervise, making him leave at 11pm.

However, in an apparent F.U. to us, while I was working from home the next morning and busy, this friend came back and when I was distracted she took him into our basement. When my husband came home, he was upset I left them alone (which was not intentional on my part), but I thought he was making too big a deal as it was for no more than 20 minutes and anyone could have walked in on them. She has a boyfriend elsewhere and says she is faithful to him, but we were suspicious of this guy as she was getting him to drive her everywhere and she told us he was in love with her.

Apparently I was naive and my husband knew better than me because we found men's underwear in our couch later that day. As it is a reclining couch, which we had fully reclined the previous night before, and not a brand that anyone in our house wears, it was obvious where it came from (and yes, we checked to make sure it didn't belong to either kid that slept over, which wouldn't have made sense anyway as they slept in their clothes and didn't shower at our house).

E's state guardian wants to place her in a personal care home, which we think would be appropriate, but now her birth sister wants guardianship (she was allowed to go to her sister's temporarily as there was not an immediate placement for her and she didn't want to stay with us because "I won't have any freedom there"). I think her sister means well, but is not equipped to deal with E in the long-term, and would be very tempted to spend E's money on the sister's household expenses. The sister lives in a rundown carpeted trailer. I talked to E two days ago, and her sister doesn't even have a vacuum cleaner or adequate AC (my daughter bought a fan for her room and was talking about buying a window AC for her window and a vacuum cleaner). I also think she'd be tempted to let Elizabeth move out with her birth mother (who currently lives next door) or a boyfriend and wouldn't actually guard her if things got rough (which knowing my daughter they will when this "honeymoon" period ends).

Additionally, I worry that the sister will protect other people over Elizabeth. The sister didn't talk to E for two years after E disclosed that their older brother molested E and I reported it as at the time the sister had her mother, her brother and two little step-daughters living in her home. E was scared that her brother would molest the girls, and fortunately was on board with me reporting it. The mother is not allowed to live with children.

The sister tried to convince me that E was lying and tried to protect her brother over E. The stepdaughters were temporarily taken away and placed with a grandmother and the mother and brother made to move out before they could get them back and I see how that was a mess, but it wasn't E's fault. The children apparently denied the brother did anything; hopefully that means we reported it in time, or that he is no longer a molester. It was the sister's fault in using bad judgment and letting her brother stay with her knowing he was a potential risk to those children. She should have known that her brother could have done that to E because E also reported that she acted as a look-out when her sister sucked off her brother when they all were kids and, when E and sister were in foster care, sister knew that brother was not allowed to be around E because based on his behavior toward E during visits, the social workers suspected he had molested E.

As if all of this wasn't enough, E's rapist boyfriend was released from jail on bond the same day I drove E to her sister's place. I am actually really glad she is temporarily 3 hours away now, as I am pretty sure he called her as I was driving her, but have no actual proof. But someone called, she told the person she couldn't talk because she was with her mother and admitted tearfully "I know I screwed up." I think that was about reporting to us what he did but he didn't call from his own phone, so it is pretty much impossible to prove.

In two weeks we have court on E's guardianship and her sister's request to be guardian. I feel that we need to raise concerns about sister having E, but need to be careful about it because if sister gets guardianship, we don't want her to be so mad at us that she cuts us out of E's life. She will absolutely do that, knowing what happened before with her cutting E out. One good thing with the temporary placement with the sister is that the sister is arranging for E to get an IUD. E is on board as she wants to keep in her sister's good graces. E desperately needs birth control after having her Nexplanon removed after only three months (she did that behind our backs so that, according to her friend who told us, as a promise to her rapist boyfriend that as soon as he gets out of jail they could start a family together, seriously how sick is that?), given all her promiscuous behavior and willingness to forego condoms if the guy doesn't want to use them. If E can just get the IUD and then get placed in the personal care home, that would be ideal.

So I haven't been in a good place, but hopefully finishing this chapter will distract me for a while.

25.

I woke up at my usual 6:30 am, my internal clock rousing me as it typically did an hour before my 7:30 am alarm. I woke up feeling decently good, and rather than question it, accepted it without reservation.

I went through my typical bathroom routine and was shampooing my hair before I recalled both my houseguests and the meeting that Rick and I were determined to have with the detective assigned to GG's case. I wondered if Elizabeth had followed my advice to turn off her phone, leaving Chuck in the dark, as I had advised just before everyone separated for the drive. Recalling Chuck's threat to whisk Jane away, I decided to hire some security guards for the house, at least temporarily. While we would certainly do our best to keep Chuck unaware of Jane's present location, he might eventually guess at my involvement.

After I dressed (business casual today), I padded to the kitchen in my socks to start the coffee like I usually do. For just me, I use a pod, but as I rather expected at least one of my guests must drink coffee, I decided to brew a full pot. I was grinding my beans when Elizabeth joined me in the kitchen.

Elizabeth was wearing what I guessed was Jane's pink T-shirt as a sleep shirt with white socks adorned with hearts, and the letters "x"s, and "o"s. Although Elizabeth is rather petite compared to her sister, the bottom of the shirt hit her high on her thighs, long enough to cover her panties while she stood there, but perhaps not long enough to be decent should she sit. Based on what swayed as she walked and the lack of lines, I was almost certain she wasn't wearing a bra.

I felt my mouth go dry and the morning pleasantries I intended to bestow upon her died before I could utter a single word.

Unfortunately, I was pulled from the very pleasant contemplation of what Elizabeth was or wasn't wearing under her shirt, when I tried to imagine her panties. I found myself instead remembering having to take my teenage sister underwear shopping and being confused by all the choices women had. Guys just pretty much had briefs, boxers and boxer briefs (and I was old enough to remember when that third category did not exist). I had stood next to G.G., befuddled in ladies underwear aisle, trying to pick briefs in the right size to match her jeans size which was a 7. A woman with her teenaged daughter in tow took pity on us and explained how the package I clutched in my hands was all wrong.

However, like being splashed with a bucket of cold water, it freed my tongue. "Good morning," I offered. "Will you be wanting coffee this morning? I'm about to put on a pot."

"Yes, please, but I think I'll grab a quick shower first." Elizabeth sashayed out. I kept grinding the beans rather longer than I needed as I watched her walk away.

When I next saw Elizabeth, the coffee was done, some bacon also, home fried potatoes and cheesy eggs. I had also set out a box of tea, hot chocolate packets, sugar, honey and a cute pitcher with milk. I had not planned to make everyone breakfast, but it helped keep my mind off the upcoming meeting with the police about G.G.

Elizabeth silently padded up to me as I was placing bacon to drain on some paper towels. "Looks good. Some of that is for us, right?"

I turned. Elizabeth was now dressed in a pale blue T-shirt and jeans that were too big with the bottoms rolled up. Definitely Jane's.

Given that I had fried the whole package of bacon and a dozen eggs, I was pretty sure she was joking with her question. "Yes, what do you want, or do you want to serve yourself?"

"Some of everything and make it big. I need to fortify myself before I turn on my phone this morning." Elizabeth waved her phone with its black screen around. "Course I probably need to talk to Jane first to see how to handle it all." She shrugged and tucked her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.

I found myself wishing aloud, "I'd love to hear the conversation where you finally break it to Chuck."

Elizabeth smiled. "It's a date."

I quipped back, "That's not what I imagined for our first date, but I'll take it."

Rather than getting a hoped for laugh, she grew pensive. "I know I haven't been very nice to you-"

I interrupted, "You had every reason not to be."

"Can you wait, Bill? I'm trying to apologize!" Elizabeth said with some measure of frustration. "Here you've been looking out for Jane, and now Charlotte and me, while I've done nothing but think the worst of you. I'm sorry."

"I get the whole being protective of your sister thing, I really do. I'm happy to accept your apology, for sure. But I also know I can be my own worst enemy. Friends?"

"Friends," Elizabeth agreed, taking the hand I offered her and giving me a firm handshake.

I dished up food for both of us, on the Fiestaware my mom had loved, selecting an aqua plate for her and a green plate for me, but when I offered to get her coffee, she declined, explaining "It's easier if I do it myself. Maybe you should look away so you aren't tempted to make any snide comments."

I clamped my lips together and didn't look away. Elizabeth poured coffee in a mug but only filled it about a third full, stirred in two cocoa packets, a big dollop of honey and then filled up the rest of the mug with milk, carefully stirring again. Then she stuck her concoction in the microwave for 45 seconds, standing nearby and watching to avoid the boil over.

I remained silent, but she responded as if I had spoken. "I like chocolate and sweet. If you had whipped cream, shaved chocolate, I'd put that on top, too. Let me guess, you like it black."

I shook my head. "It really depends. When things are ordinary-good in my life, typical, black with just a splash of milk is my go-to coffee, but with everything going on in my life, my one indulgence has been fru-fru coffee at home. I do like a mocha, make it sort of like you do, but only one packet of cocoa and less milk, no extra sweet besides what comes in the packet." I started fixing it as we spoke. Then I switched it out in the microwave with her drink, which had dinged.

"I'll let you in on one more secret." I went to the fridge, opened a drawer and pulled out the spray whipped cream and brought it back to where she was now perched at my granite counter.

"May I?" I held the spray whipped cream over her mug.

"Absolutely."

I sprayed her an impressive mountain and then retrieved my cup. I sprayed something closer to a hill into my cup and then put the whipped cream back. Next I retrieved a chocolate bar and a little grater I'd bought for just such a use and grated chocolate a top both our mugs. Then I fetched two of those long filled tube cookies with chocolate filling and propped one in each of our mugs.

Elizabeth stared at her drink and food. "Wow, just wow. I almost want to take a picture of it, not to post on social media, but as a memorial of when all my notions of you got flipped upside down. I would have never thought you cooked, made fru-fru drinks or anything of the sort."

"Be my guest," I answered, as I fetched us both the utensils and napkins I'd forgotten to get us before.

She started chuckling as I set up the forks, knifes and spoons.

"What?"

"Seriously, silver? For breakfast?"

I shrugged. "My mom always said we should use it and enjoy it."

"Even when you were kids? She wasn't afraid the good silver would end up in the trash?"

"Nah, although I know our maid was. I remember seeing her rummaging in the trash more than once. But the point was that when people save silver for the special occasions, it hardly gets used, and every day can be a special occasion when you are you with the ones you love."

I had heard my mom say that often enough, but when I repeated it back to Elizabeth, hearing how it sounds, I was suddenly flooded with embarrassment and had to look away. I half tried to take it back, "She said it when we were sitting around as a family, or she was explaining her practice to her friends. It doesn't mean you love all your guests, but you treat them all as special. Of course the woman who comes to clean every two weeks and ended up polishing the silver probably doesn't like it too much."

When I finally felt my blush had faded, I turned back to Elizabeth and saw she was looking at me. "I think I won't take a picture, for my mind has captured it all and now it's time to enjoy."

We both dug in and I let myself enjoy that little bubble of contentment with the world. Our conversation was idle, lazy, silly even, but it was perfect. We weren't ready for anything more. It was a pleasant way to start the day and I wish it could have never ended. But of course it did, eventually, not because we had finished our breakfasts (honestly, it was too much for each of us, but neither of us seemed to want to leave when our stomachs were full), but because there were other guests in the house and Rick came over to meet me, too.

In the end, I didn't get to be there when Elizabeth broke the whole thing to Chuck, didn't get that "date." But it didn't matter, for instead I had that memory of us together at breakfast, companionable, friendly, relaxed for the most part. I kept that memory of our precious time together that morning, tucked it in a pocket in my mind to pull out when I needed it, savored it more than the food or drink. That one memory lives with me still, a symbol of hope, a symbol of new beginnings, a symbol of possibilities.