522 (CC/UC, AU, Adult, COMPLETE, 09/01/13)

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April
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Part 21

Post by April »

First off, I think we need to take a moment to give credit to BB for being on top of everyone else for the first time so far in this fic. [insert applause here]


BB:
I just love seeing Isabel this way but it frightens me a little too because you just know she's going to do something horrible and crazy to get back at Maria.
Well, in this part, she definitely shows that she likes to get back at people who she thinks have wronged her.
I'm glad that Tess finally told Kyle, and I hope she does give him the time to adjust and come around to the idea and doesn't do something drastic like secretly get herself knocked up. That would be bad.
Luckily I don't think she's that desperate. :)

Ellie:
Wackabel is at it again!
Wackable? That's perfect! Another new name to add to the 521/522-Isabel Nicknames list. Did you see that Nakema over at CID called her Schitzobel? :lol:
The way I see it ... I don't believe Isabel was ever "that" happy with Michael - otherwise, why would she ever have cheated on him with Alex?
Interesting. I can get on board with this. I think she really was happy with Michael, but she had these lingering doubts, and that is what made her cheat on Michael with Alex. And now, of course, looking back, she realizes she shouldn't have doubted anything.
The main reason why she cheated on Michael was because of her father's disapproval of Michael. He felt that Michael was beneath her, social standing wise, and I believe he told her to get rid of him(I believe that's what he said in 521, but I could be wrong - may need to go back and re-read that).
Yep, that's exactly right. And like you said, when things didn't go her way, that's when the bitterness and jealousy really ignited. All of Isabel's issues in this fic stem back to her father. She may go on and on about how she hates him for not leaving the company to her, but I think what she hates him for more than anything is being able to manipulate her. She's the puppet master nowadays, right? But she let her dad pull her strings and convince her that she needed a richer man in life, and look where it got her.

cjensen2: First off, hey. I'm glad you came back for the sequel.
Isabel’s self-aggrandizing diatribes and belief in her own extraordinary abilities is so annoying and getting old. Basically, from what I’ve seen the only way she ever gets things done is by using her looks and sex, which is what she criticizes the other girls for.
Yes, she can be very hypocritical.
Liz’s point that Isabel and Michael would probably have still been together if she hadn’t cheated on him highlighted something I have been wondering myself. I just do not comprehend how someone as amazing as he is being portrayed in this fic could have possibly been taken in by her for two years, to the point that he was actually going to propose to her. Are we supposed to think that she is that good of an actress and that he never got any of her psycho, bitchy vibes? Or that she was that different when they were together? Or was he just too enamoured with her beauty and sex skills to actually think that he wanted to marry her?
I think that Isabel wasn't acting when she was with Michael. She really was in love with him, and he really was in love with her. Right now, she's surrounded by people who bring out the worst in her (Billy, Alex, Max, Liz), but when she was with Michael, she was with someone who brought out the best in her. The Isabel that Michael knew was smart, beautiful, and talented. And she still is all those things--she's just using her talents for evil rather than for good. There will be a couple of flashbacks in future parts that will show a time when they were dating. They were happy together, until Isabel messed things up and started thinking that love wasn't enough, that she needed money, too. (The irony, of course, is that nowadays Michael is financially stable and her husband isn't.) Everything worked out the way it was supposed to, and Michael is of course even happier with Maria and their daughters than he ever was with Isabel. Isabel's stuck in the past, though. The happiest years in her life have passed her by, and she's desperate to get them back. So . . . I just repeated pretty much everything BB said. :lol:
I have appreciated so far how Michael doesn’t seem to hold on to any lingering passion for Isabel and desperately hope that he does not respond to her advances in any way at all through this fic!
They will have scenes together, but as for any "lingering passion," I think it's safe to say that Michael is one-hundred percent in love with and passionate about Maria DeLuca only.

Novy:
Captivating stuff. It's all so very real.
Oh, I'm glad it's realistic. I know there is a lot of soap opera/90210 stuff that happens, and I really hoped that there would be a quality of realness underneath.
Eagerly awaiting more. Hope things went well with your prof.
Well, I knew I wasn't going to get him to change his mind (even though he was wrong on the issue and I was right.) Basically I had to do a 20 minute video presentation at the end of the day and the other students in the class still only had to do 10 minute presentations. I don't know how on earth that constitutes a fair assessment, but whatever. I did the video just to prove to him that I could and I kicked major booty. :P

Leila:
You already know that I love Isabel and her evil mind. What I really love is how she's able to put the seed of doubt in somebody's mind. She's the real puppet master. It might not work everytime for her own benefit but it works.
Yeah, her manipulation tactics are kind of hit and miss, but for the most part, they're hit.
Michael is awesome. He gives his best to be the good husband and father. So far he manages very well but I'm assuming it's just the calm before the storm. And it's going to happen soon.
Well, I don't know if "soon" is the right word considering the fact that I've written this fic up to page 738 and I just managed to get these people past Thanksgiving. :lol: It's a long fic.
I fear that even Michael might crack under all that pressure of being the 'perfect' hubby and daddy supporting his family.
This is definitely something that could happen at some point.

dreambeliever:
I just wanted to tell Liz....SHUT UP! and before I knew it she blabbed. Uuuggghhhh...
Yes, Liz opened her mouth before she actually thought about what she was saying. Even if she hadn't told Isabel about Amy's cancer, though, Isabel probably would've found out somehow. 8)

Christina:
Grr, dammit. I started typing a huge thing of feedback but I'm on my boyfriend's laptop and it's keypad is ridiculous and somehow I exited out of it right when I was near the end. Gah! Now I'm pissed.
Oh, I've done that! That's so frustrating. One time I had an entire update of this fic ready to go (and you know it takes me awhile to get an update ready because I go through and respond to all the feedback and then I go through and italicize everything I need to), and that same thing happened! Grr, indeed.
Also, I think it's weird that Liz has seemed to change Max for the better; whereas he/ or his lifestlye has changed her for the worse.
Definitely. There are lots of changes coming up for both Max and Liz, though, and they start in this update.



Thanks for all the feedback! I really appreciate it!

This part mainly focuses on Max, Alex, and Isabel, so sorry if it's a bit of a downer. But it's an important part, gives you some answers to some long-asked questions.










Part 21








Max picked apart his breakfast the next morning. There was so much whipped cream on the French toast that he couldn’t taste the toast. The whipped cream was nice, though, woke him up a little.

Yolanda approached the table, seemingly proud but wary of the meal she’d cooked. “Miss Liz, how is the taste?” she asked hesitantly.

“Oh, everything’s great, Yolanda,” Liz assured her readily. “Thank you.”

Yolanda smiled and refilled Liz’s coffee. Once she was gone, Liz leaned across the table and said, “You know, we should really give her a raise. Or let her move into the pool house or something. I love Yolanda.”

I’ll have to fire her soon, Max thought. She’ll probably want a letter of recommendation.

“Max? Did you get any sleep at all last night? You’re so out of it.”

He snapped himself out of his thoughts. “What?”

She gave him an impatient look.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“Are you okay? I think you’re working too hard.”

He grunted. He’d devoted his entire life to work for . . . well, for most of his life. And even that wasn’t enough. “How’d you do on that test?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.

Liz shrugged and shoveled a forkful of toast into her mouth. “He hasn’t posted grades yet, but I feel pretty good about it.”

He nodded. “And how’s work for you?”

“Uneventful. Isabel stopped by yesterday. That’s about it.”

Isabel. Contempt roared through her veins at the mere mention of his sister. “She should just stay out of our lives,” he grumbled.

“I think she just wanted to annoy someone. She was all, ‘Would you love Max no matter what?’” Liz rolled her eyes. “Stupid.”

Or not, he thought, wondering. It was a question he’d asked himself a lot within the past few months. “What’d you say?”

“I just told her to leave.”

He frowned. “So you didn’t answer the question.”

“No, why should I?”

He set his silverware down, worried. Maybe the answer was no. Isabel was a perceptive person; maybe she knew something he didn’t. “Well, would you?” he asked.

“Would I . . . love you no matter what?” She gave him a confused look. “Of course. That’s not even a question.”

He felt like breathing a sigh of relief, but he nodded calmly instead. “Good.” The coming months weren’t going to be pretty; but if she stuck it out with him, he’d stick it out with her. It was too bad things couldn’t just stay the way they were.

****

“An affair we could spin to your advantage. Even a love child or a DUI. But not rape.” Roger shook his head as he paced back and forth in Max’s office, the infamous issue of Corporate in hand. “It’s the one thing everybody with a soul knows is wrong. But you did it, and now you’re paying for it. Literally.”

Max rolled his eyes. He didn’t need a lecture on the morality (or lack thereof) of his actions. He needed the story to go away. Revenue was already down thirty percent.

“Let’s figure out who brought this public and pay her to retract her claims,” Roger suggested, dropping the magazine into the trash.

The wheels of Max’s mind turned as he tried to figure things out. “It doesn’t make sense. None of those girls even remember it happening. They were drunk. Or drugged or both. I think the only one who remembers is . . . Maria.” He tried to picture Maria approaching some business-oriented magazine and relaying the events of that night as tabloid gossip, though, and he couldn’t. “But what does she have to gain from going public in a magazine? If she was gonna tell anyone, she’d tell a lawyer, sue my ass.” It wasn’t Maria. Couldn’t be. She’d moved on from what he’d done to her.

“That’s a good point, Max,” Roger said, pulling up a chair beside him. “Whoever reported this hasn’t brought a lawsuit against you. Clearly she’s not out for money or justice. So the question becomes, who do you know who hates you enough to ruin your life just for the hell of it?”

Max narrowed his eyes, contemplating. When Roger put it like that, only one answer came to mind.


****

Max looked around his house. The marble countertops, the four-course breakfast, the dutiful maid, the happy wife . . . in a matter of weeks, all of this would be gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tess smelled breakfast when she entered Michael and Maria’s house. Maria was in the kitchen scrambling up some eggs and buttering toast. Michael was asleep on the living room couch, his mouth hanging open just slightly, his right arm and leg dangling to the floor.

“Hey,” Tess said quietly.

“Hey,” Maria returned.

“How you doin’?”

“Better. I actually got some sleep last night.”

Tess glanced back into the living room. Michael was snoring lightly.

“Yeah, he was up all night taking care of Macy,” Maria explained. “She kept crying and crying and crying, and he didn’t want me to have to deal with it.”

Tess smiled. “Aw, that’s so sweet.”

“I know. See, this is what you have to look forward to when you’re a parent: sleepless nights.”

“Yeah.” She honestly did look forward to sleepless nights, though. Who needed sleep when you had a beautiful baby to occupy your time? “Hey, speaking of that . . . I told Kyle.”

Maria turned down the heat on the stove. “Told Kyle what?”

Tess just bit her bottom lip and smiled.

Maria’s eyes widened as she understood. “Oh my god. Tess, that’s huge! What’d he say?”

“He basically said he’d think about it and get back to me.” She cringed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So, not exactly the reaction I was hoping for. But at least he didn’t completely shut me down.”

“Yeah.” Maria used the spatula to lift the eggs out of the frying pan and onto the plate. “He’s probably just surprised.”

Tess sat down at the table, wringing her hands together nervously. “I think he was. But hopefully once he thinks about it, he’ll realize what a good idea it is.”

“Yeah, he will.” Maria took a second plate out of the cabinet and piled a small amount of eggs onto it, handing it to Tess. “Keep me updated, okay? It’s good for me to think about . . . good things.”

Tess smiled sympathetically. Maria was trying to be so strong, and in all fairness, she really was handling it pretty well. But still, she felt the need to assure her, “Your mom’s gonna be here for all sorts of good things, like your wedding and the birth of my baby, whenever it happens. And when it does happen, she’ll technically be Grandma Amy. Again.”

Maria poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down next to Tess to eat her breakfast. “She said she doesn’t want her cancer to control my life,” she said, “so I won’t let it. But I do know one thing for sure: I’ll feel a hell of a lot better once I get my own mammogram out of the way.” She shuddered.

“I know.” Tess didn’t want her best friend to have to do that alone, so she added, “Hey, you know what? I’ll go with you. I’ll get one done, too.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, it’s a good idea.” There was nothing wrong with taking precautions. She was at risk, too, since her mother had suffered from it, and she'd prolonged it until now. “We’ll do it together.”

Maria thought about it for a moment and decided, “That sounds a little less scary.”

Tess nodded in agreement.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel poured a mountain of Fruit Loops into her son’s cereal bowl and instructed, “Say when,” as she poured milk in along with it. She kept pouring, waiting for him to stop her, but he didn’t. Finally, as the bowl was about to overflow, she decided, “Fine, I’ll say it for you. When,” and stopped pouring the milk. Garret dug his spoon onto the bowl, haphazardly splashing milk onto the table. Isabel refrained from saying anything. It didn’t really matter. Their kitchen table was crappy anyway.

Her cell phone rang, and she sensed it was Billy, so she slipped into the other room to answer it. “Hey, loser,” she said quietly. Alex was already at work, but she didn’t want to take any chance that Garret would overhear her.

“Hey, baby. I just wanna let you know I gotta take off for a few days.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Lorenzo scored me some gigs in Colorado.”

She sat down on the arm of the couch, defeated. “Are you kidding me? Billy, this is a very stressful and pissed off time in my life. I need you here.”

“I’ll be back this weekend.”

That meant days without proper sex. “I can’t believe you’re choosing music over me.”

“Babe, I gotta go,” he insisted. “I could get a record deal.”

“Oh, please, your music’s better than it used to be, but it’s still not that good.” She angrily slammed her phone closed and threw it at the wall. The battery popped out the back.

“Dammit,” she swore, standing up. She bent down to pick up the phone and battery, and when she turned back around, her brother was also standing in the living room. “Max!” she shrieked, startled. She immediately worried how much of her phone conversation he’d heard. “How long have you been standing there?”

He just shrugged in response.

“Well, that was the . . . plumber,” she lied.

“You need your pipes cleaned?”

She glared at him. He probably knew more than he should have. Her brother was surely a dumbass, but this was the second time in recent history he’d overheard her on the phone with Billy. He had to suspect something. “What’re you doing here, Max?” She glanced back into the kitchen. Garret was still eating his cereal, making a mess.

“Nothing much,” Max replied. “I just figured it’s about time I confront you about this.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out a rolled up magazine, dropping it onto the floor at her feet.

She bent down and picked it up. “Ah, the article that rightfully accuses you of being a rapist.” She grinned. “I swear, I’ve read this thing, like, a thousand times.”

“I’m sure you have.” He seized the magazine back from her and flipped it open to the article about him. “‘An anonymous source claims that Maxwell Evans, youngest multi-millionaire of the southwest, took advantage of her sexually while she was in a drunken state,’” he read aloud. “An anonymous source claims that.”

She shrugged. “Karma.”

“You.”

She flinched but tried to disguise it. “Me?”

“You did this.”

She laughed ruefully. “Why would I?”

“Because you could never handle the fact that Dad liked me better.”

Her entire body clenched. Her brother and her dad versus her. Some things never changed.

****

“Ugh, I swear, my brother is the lifelong thorn in my side!” Isabel stopped and did a line a coke, then resumed her pacing and ranting in Billy’s bedroom. “He won’t promote my husband. He won’t give me a job. And do you know why? Because he says he can’t trust me.”

Billy lay back on the bed and undid his pants. “Smart guy.”

“No, not smart. Lucky. Max has never had to work hard for anything. He was born a boy, so everything was just handed to him on a silver platter. I swear, if he ever fought for anything he wanted, I’d probably die of shock.”

Billy gazed at her. “I’m gonna write a song about you.”

She could barely hear him over the sounds of her own fury. “You know, I could have money and mansions and maids if I’d been born an only child. I could have all sorts of power. And unlike my brother, I’d know what to do with it.”

“Baby, come here.” Billy tried to slip one of his feet between her legs.

“No.” She backed away, not at all in the mood. “You know what I think? I think it’s time Max learns a lesson.” After all these years of him messing up her life, it was about time she did something to mess up his.

An hour later, she was at the office of
Corporate magazine, one of her absolute favorite publications. She’d worn one of Billy’s baseball caps, along with his Nirvana t-shirt, to help disguise her appearance. She also had on a brown wig they liked to do role-play in, and big, black sunglasses that covered most of her face. She walked right up to the front desk and got the secretary’s attention. “Hi,” she said, “I assume your staff is acquainted with Max Evans of Evans Hotels.” She didn’t wait for a response. “I’ve got a story for your little magazine here.” It took everything she had not to smile as she said the untrue words. “Max Evans raped me.”

****

He glared at her, looking as though he could kill her for this. “That’s a lie.”

“Is it?” She took one more glance into the kitchen, just to make sure Garret wasn’t listening. “You raped me of a career that was supposed to be mine.”

“Get over it.”

“And you have raped dozens of girls.” She shrugged. “This is just feminism at its finest.”

“Or its most pathetic.” He clenched the magazine tightly in his hands, crumpling all the pages. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“I’ve created an obstacle,” she stated simply. “Overcome it.” If he was half as great as he thought he was, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. It was just an accusation. Many a man had thrived upon a rape legacy.

“You’re so jealous,” he said.

“I didn’t get them to write this article out of jealousy.”

“Like hell you didn’t.”

“I got them to write it out of courage.” She traipsed her fingers through her hair, loving the look on his face. Frustration. Finally, he got to feel as frustrated as she did. “Face it, Max: The reason why we’ll never get along is because we’re the only two people in the world courageous enough to take each other on. Although, if you’re gonna get all pissy over a little article, maybe you’re not that brave after all.”

He shook his head angrily. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“I upset you. That thrills me.”

“You think you know so much about business, but you don’t. You don’t know what a story like this does to me.”

“It humiliates you.” She was fine with that.

“It ruins me,” he said emphatically. “It ruins my company, it ruins my life. I’m losing everything because of you.”

For the first time since she’d initiated the article, she felt uneasy about it. “What’re you talking about?” How could he lose everything? He’d always have the company, even though he didn’t deserve it.

“Nobody wants to do business with an accused rapist,” he explained. “All the investors, all the customers . . . you see, there’s this little thing in business called integrity—it’s rare but important. And when you violate a person’s most basic human rights, you tend to lose any and all integrity you have.”

That sounded like his fault, not hers. “Then you shouldn’t have violated anyone.”

“Isabel, you don’t get it.” He stared at her with panic in his eyes and said, “My company is gone.”

She wrinkled her forehead in confusion. No, it wasn’t. She would have known about it. Everyone would have known about it.

“I mean, it’s still here, but not for much longer,” he explained. “It’s dying a slow and painful death, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing. I’ve been trying to keep it on the down-low, but it doesn’t matter anymore. In a matter of weeks, maybe even days, Evans Hotels will cease to exist.”

Isabel stared at him in astonishment, mouth agape. He had to be lying. Or joking. This was some kind of strange joke that only Max, with his non-sense of humor, could understand. The company couldn’t just die out. It was huge. It was powerful. It was supposed to have been hers.

He flapped his arms helplessly against his sides. “Are you happy now? I can’t overcome your ‘obstacle.’ It’s the end of me. I’ll have no job, no money. But on the bright side, at least you’ll never swindle the company out of me.” He laughed angrily. “You’ll never get it. You see, Isabel, you have a bad habit of sabotaging yourself. No company, no Michael . . .”

She furrowed her brow deeply. How dare a piece of scum like Max even say that name.

“Oh, well.” He shrugged. “At least we can have bleak futures together.”

She got that it wasn’t a joke. But it still didn’t seem real. “There has to be something you can do,” she said. “Let me help you.”

“I think you’ve done enough.” He shoved the crumpled magazine into her hands. “All I have to do is break the news to the few employees I have left.” Before she could even get the question out, he added, “And yes, that includes Alex.”

Oh, no, she thought, suddenly as panicked as he was. Alex was going to lose his job. It was the job that supported their family. It wasn’t much, but it paid the bills, paid the mortgage, paid for Garret’s clothes so he could look nice for Miley Guerin.

“I have to fire my best friend,” Max said pityingly. “I have to fire my nephew’s father. And when this is all said and done, I won’t be able to help him, or Garret or even you. I won’t have a penny to my name. You guys will be on your own.”

She averted her eyes, unable to conceal her fear.

“Something tells me you didn’t expect this to happen. Careless, Isabel,” he taunted. “Didn’t Dad teach you anything? Whenever you make a risky maneuver, always think ahead.”

She tore the magazine from his grasp and backed away from him. “I hate you,” she ground out.

“I hate you, too.” He smiled angrily. “But congratulations. You brought down the bad guy.” As he turned and walked out the front door, he muttered, “Unfortunately you brought down your own family along with him.”

She stood motionless in the living room once he was gone, clutching the shreds of manipulation in her hands. Garret called to her from the kitchen, asking if she was okay, but she couldn’t even answer him. It was just meant to have been an article, embarrassing but harmless. It wasn’t meant to be this. But she should have known it would be. Nothing ever went the way it was supposed to. Not for her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael walked around C4 in a fog, barely able to keep his eyes open and yawning uncontrollably. It’d been a long night. He didn’t understand why Macy had to be her loudest and most uncooperative on the nights when he and Maria needed sleep the most. All that mattered was that Maria had gotten to rest, though. He was okay.

“Are you sure you’re able to work today?” Kyle asked him. “You look like you’re a zombie.”

“I am.” Michael yawned again. “I’m so glad Tess took Miley and Macy to work with her today. I love my kids, but they wear me out.”

Kyle laughed a little, but he seemed uptight about something. “Of course she took them,” he mumbled. “She’s probably practicing.”

Michael hopped up onto the front counter, grabbing a copy of their latest inventory report to look over. “For when you guys have kids?”

“Yep.”

“That’s not a bad idea. It could happen any day now.”

Kyle grunted. “Oh, trust me, I know. Last night, we’re about to do it . . . I got my pants down, and you know what she says?” He paused for dramatic effect. “‘I wanna have a baby.’”

“Really? She said that?”

Kyle nodded.

“Huh.” Michael had suspected for awhile now that Tess felt that way, but he hadn’t expected her to tell Kyle about it yet. “Wow, congratulations.”

“What, con-congratulations?” Kyle sputtered. “First off, she’s not pregnant yet. Second, I was hoping for more of a ‘whoa’ or ‘golly.’”

Michael arched an eyebrow. “Golly?”

“Don’t you think this is a big deal?”

Michael shrugged. “Well, yeah, but you guys will be great parents. I’ll be a fantastic uncle.” He smiled at just the thought of it. “And it’ll be nice for Miley and Macy to have some cousins to play with.”

Kyle looked at him nervously. “Okay, this isn’t like a definitive thing, like there’s definitely gonna be cousins. No, it’s still up in the air.”

Michael frowned. “What’s stopping you?”

“Uh, the fact that I’m only twenty-four for starters.”

“Yeah, but you’re done with college, married,” Michael pointed out. “You got a nice house, successful business.” When Maria had gotten pregnant, he’d been a junior living in an apartment, working part-time at an art museum on campus.

“Okay, but let’s put this in perspective,” Kyle suggested readily. “A decade ago, I was fourteen. Fourteen, man. I hadn’t even gone through puberty yet. And now it’s baby time?” He flapped his arms at his sides. “I don’t think so.”

“I had a daughter a decade after I turned eleven,” Michael pointed out.

Kyle glared. “But that’s you. I’m still a spaz. I don’t know if I could handle it.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Michael hopped down off the counter, heading back into his office to get some coffee. He needed a serious jolt of energy.

Kyle followed him, still worrying out loud. “But this isn’t just a test drive. I can’t get behind the wheel of fatherhood, decide it doesn’t handle well, and opt out of the purchase. This is an all or nothing deal.”

Michael poured coffee into his World’s Greatest Dad mug and continued to assure his friend. “Look, for what it’s worth, if you and Tess decide to do this, Maria and I are gonna be here for you, just like you guys are for us. But if you’re really not ready, just tell Tess you’re not ready. She’ll understand.”

“Oh, I don’t know if she will,” Kyle argued. “You didn’t see that look in her eyes when she told me. She’s . . . really invested in this.”

Michael took a sip of his hot coffee, still not understanding the issue. In his mind, Tess’s baby mention was a good thing. Whether Kyle was ready for it or not, they had the opportunity to plan a pregnancy, either now or down the road. Lots of people didn’t have that chance.

“Our lives can never just be boring, can they?” Kyle mused. “We always gotta have something going on. Amy’s cancer, my potential fatherhood, your sexlessness.”

Michael chuckled. “Yeah, but the way I look at it, things could always be worse.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Max felt fairly certain his life couldn’t be any worse than it currently was. He felt like such a failure. His father had entrusted the company to him after his death. He was supposed to have done great things with it. The worst part was that Phillip Evans had been attempting to change his will shortly before his heart attack. He’d known. The bastard had known that Max couldn’t handle it.

He sat in his office having downed about half a dozen shots of tequila, staring at the phone. He’d been debating whether or not to call Roger all day. It seemed in a way that Roger should be the last one he should fire. But it didn’t really matter at this point, and maybe it was better this way. Firing Roger would be practice for firing his brother-in-law.

Max picked up his phone and dialed Roger’s number. It went straight to voicemail. “Roger,” he said, clearing his throat, “I really can’t stand you and I don’t care if I ever see your face again, so I’ll just do this over the phone.” He waited a moment, then blurted it out: “You’re fired.” The words left a bitter, acid-taste in his mouth, and this was Roger. He couldn’t imagine how it would taste to say it to Alex. “Thanks for trying to help,” he mumbled before lowering the phone. At least that was done.

A knock on the door made him bristle, but he said, “Come in,” anyway.

Alex came into the office. “Hey,” he said, “you wanted to see me?”

Max swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah, sit down.”

Alex sat down across from him and took out his cell phone. “Isabel keeps calling me,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You think I should call her back?”

“No.” Max knew why Isabel was calling Alex. She wanted to let him know he was going to be fired. He almost wanted to let her tell him, but he knew Alex deserved to hear it from him.

“Yeah, all she does is stress me out.” Alex stuck his phone back in his pocket. “Hey, speaking of stress, it’s gettin’ too hectic out there. Are you gonna hire some new help anytime soon? ‘Cause you’re gonna have to. There’s, like, four of us out there, and we’re way overworked.”

Everyone at Evans Hotels was overworked. Max had devoted his entire life to that company, and he was going to have nothing to show for it. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, feeling guilty for stressing Alex out. His wife surely did enough of that for the both of them.

“I don’t mean to make it seem like it’s your fault. It’s just . . . busy,” Alex said.

“Yeah.” Max couldn’t help but wonder if he and Alex would be busy after they no longer had jobs. Would they find other jobs? Would it fall to Isabel and Liz to keep things under control? “Listen, Alex . . .” He licked his lips. His throat felt dry, and the words felt like ten pound weights as they started to come out. “You’re a good friend. You’re my only friend.” He actually felt himself starting to get a little choked up, and he couldn’t have that; so he shoved the emotions back down and spoke more evenly and calmly. “I’m proud to call you my brother-in-law.”

“Well, I could say the same.”

Max shook his head. “Don’t.”

Alex stared at him in confusion. “What’s going on?” he asked as though he suddenly sensed something was wrong.

Max sighed heavily. This was even harder than he’d thought it would be, but it had to be done. “I know I promised you wouldn’t lose your job, but . . .” He trailed off, a lump in his throat.

Alex stared at him in horror. “No,” he said, pushing the chair back and rising to his feet. “No, no, no, Max. You said . . .” He pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You said.”

“I know what I said, but you don’t know what’s going on here.”

“You’re firing me?” Alex roared.

“I’m letting you go,” he corrected. “I wish I didn’t have to, but--”

“This is bullshit!” Alex interrupted furiously. “This is bullshit, Max!”

“This is your wife’s doing, so before you yell at me, you might wanna have a word with her,” Max bit out angrily. He hated his sister. Hated. Her.

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“I’m talking about . . .” Max reached into his top right-hand desk drawer, revealing every issue of that fateful issue of Corporate he’d ever seen on newsstands. At first, in a vain attempt to keep the article from spreading, he’d bought every issue he could. But he hadn’t been able to buy enough, and he hadn’t been able to buy them in time. “This,” he said, throwing the magazine down on his desk. “We’ve all seen it. We know what it says. And you and I both know it’s true. I’ve raped girls. And Isabel knew that. She’s the ‘anonymous source’ in this article. She’s the one who told them everything. She didn’t know it’d go this far, but it did. And now you’re losing your job for it.”

“But it’s just an article,” Alex protested.

“No, it’s a smoking gun,” Max informed him. “The minute word got out about this, I lost all my investors, half my customers. I tried to fix it, but there’s just no way I can salvage anything.” He saw the defeated look on Alex’s face and the look of déjà vu in his eyes. “You’ve been here before,” he said. “You know how it goes. You and your dad were riding high, and then all of a sudden . . . it’s like falling off a cliff.”

Alex shook his head angrily and made his way over to the window, peering down at the street below. His lips were pressed together tightly as though he were trying to keep from saying anything.

“Do you remember when I first hired you?” Max asked him. “I promised you’d have a job here for as long as Evans Hotels was in existence. And I kept my promise.”

Alex whirled around, blazing. “You also said I’d get out of Customer Service. You said you were gonna promote me, said I was gonna be your right-hand man.” He threw his arms in the air. “What the hell happened there, Max? I’ll tell you what happened: You lied. You always lie. You were just dragging me along because you felt sorry for me.”

“Look, Alex, I know this sucks for you, being out of job and all, but it sucks for me, too. I’m losing a career. I’m gonna have to sell every possession I own just to pay off all my debts. My cars, my house . . . for all I know, I might lose my wife over this.” Alex just looked at him unsympathetically, and Max knew he’d done the wrong thing by bringing his own woefulness into this. “And judging by the look on your face, I just lost my best friend.”

“Oh, well, poor Max Evans. You really expect me to feel sorry for you? My family lives on this income. I have a son to provide for.”

“You can find another job,” Max tried to assure him. “You’ll have experience to put on a resume, and I’ll be happy to offer a recommendation.”

“A recommendation?” Alex spat. “Oh, save it, Max. I don’t want any more ‘help’ from you, ‘cause it always comes with strings attached. ‘Oh, I’ll get you a job, Alex, but only until my past catches up to me. Oh, I’ll buy you a house, but only a shithole one. I’ll be a good uncle, but only when I feel like it.’” He grunted and shook his head. “You’re a son of a bitch, you know that?”

I am a good uncle, Max thought. I have to be. He’d tried so hard . . . “Alex, this isn’t a choice,” he said, feeling choked up again. “It’s a lack of one. I have to let you go from this company because there is no company.”

“And whose fault is that?” Alex growled. “You can blame Isabel for a lot of stuff, but you can’t blame her for this. This is something you did.” He slammed his knuckles down atop the magazine to emphasize that point. “This is your fault.”

It was much easier for him to deal with if it was Isabel’s. “Alex . . .”

“Stay away from me, and stay away from my family.” Alex turned to leave the office, but he stopped on his way out. “Oh, and to save you the trouble, you can’t fire me. I quit. Thanks for nothing, Max.”

Max lowered his head and crawled into the corners of his mind as Alex walked out the door. He heard a car roar out of the parking lot a few minutes later, and he had no doubt Alex was heading to the bar.

Because of him.

Fuck.








TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
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April
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Part 22

Post by April »

Ellie:
Yeah, I saw that. Interesting list - you should do a poll to see which one is loved most by us, the fans.
Let's see, we've got Bitchabel, Isabitch, Wackabel, Slutabel, Whoreabel, Isaslut, Psychobel, Schitzobel . . . am I forgetting any major ones? We'll do a little poll on the next update. :lol:
I knew Maria wasn't the only girl to have been raped by Max ... but Wackabel claiming that she was? And going to the magazine to give an exclusive interview? Hands down ... that was the best plot twist EVER! Here I was thinking that one of the girls from Max's past that came forward and was finally going to make him pay ... but it was all Wackabel's doing? That ... so puts the empty take out box fiasco to shame!
I'm glad that part was a surprising twist! One of my favorite parts of this fic has always been the screwed up sibling rivalry between Max and Isabel.
Why do you leave me with the feeling that something is going to happen now with Tess? I just ... have this awful feeling that once she gets her mammogram, the results are not going to be good
Oh, what have I done to my readers? I've made you assume the worst about everything. :( They will have their mammograms and learn their results in the next few updates, after this one.

BB:
How strange is it that in a chapter where Max is revealed to be a multiple rapist, the person I dislike the most is Alex.
Huh, that is strange. But I kind of get it. As evil as Max is, for the majority of the people reading this, he's not going to be the least favorite character. In fact, when this fic ends, I think there will be a handful of people who say Max is their favorite character.
I can't believe that the magazine actually published that article. They didn't even check Isabel's identity so they obviously didn't bother substantiating her claims. Would a reputable magazine really do that?
Well, it's like a tabloid magazine for the business world, so they really don't care about reputable stories; they care about scandalous ones. ;)
I hope the girl's mammograms go well. Though I've a horrible feeling that Tess's will throw up some bad news.
Oh, no, I've made you assume the worst, just like Ellie! :oops:

Novy:
It makes sense why Liz's parents wouldn't want to support her marrying a rapist. No good parent in their right mind would. It also makes sense why Max was going all out for the wedding and the honeymoon. It was the last time he could ever be able to.
Yep, everything's starting to come together and make sense with that part of the story.
Well I guess karma finally caught up with him. As it should. I wonder what he will do now.
I'm honestly so excited for Max's upcoming storylines. Last night, I just wrote some Max parts that you guys won't get to until about page 750, but I'm so excited for them.

Farrah:
The fact that max brought the champagne - the way Maria became so out of it so quickly and Max seemed completely sober.

And this explains it. He drugged her and he'd done it before.
Yep. He was a really bad guy.
Somewhere between Liz moving away in 521 and then him saving Maria from Billy and then Garret being born I think Max really and truly changed - became a better person (not great but better). So my heart kind of breaks for him - because although it's his own actions that are to blame - it's almost like they were the actions of another him. Like a split personality - at least that's how I see it.
That's an interesting way to look at it, and I'm inclined to agree. Max really does win the award for "most changed" since 521. Like you said, he's not a great person, but he's better. It's arguably fair that his past is catching up to him, but like you said, it's almost as if he's another him.
Still - I wonder if somehow she can help Max with the company? He obviously needs a miracle and if God's not interested, perhaps his devil-sister can pull one from the hat?
Despite how devious and capable Isabel is, Max's company is beyond the point of help. There is nothing she or anyone else can do for him.

Krista:
I know Alex made some valid points but it actually makes me really angry that he's not able to man up when Max is doing just that. Fact is, he didn't need to take the job from Max. He didn't need to marry Isabel. He could've gone out and tried to find a better job and move up with his own merit. He's blaming someone else for his own shortcomings because he was dependent on someone else when he put himself in that situation. He made his choices, now he has to live with it.

I'd also like to point out that beggars can't be choosers.
Good points. As I was reading through your feedback, it dawned on me how many characters in this fic blame others for their shortcomings. Alex blames Max. Max blames Isabel. Isabel blames both Max and Alex, and Maria and her dad. And basically everyone who isn't Michael. :roll: Ay, ay, ay!

dreambeliever:
Alex was not a friend at all and Max has been trying to be a friend to Alex.
I'm inclined to think that Alex's reaction in the moment was understandable, but once he's had time to cool down about it, then we'll see if he's a friend to Max or not.

lilah:
I do agree with Alex however. It's not like Isabel pulled the Max is a rapist story out of thin air
Exactly, so does Max even have the right to blame Isabel for this? Maybe he should just blame himself.
when is Isabel going to die horribly crushed under a building?
:lol: Sorry, but never!

Neve:
Hopefully next time, my feedback will be a lot less generic.
:lol: It's not a problem. Generic feedback is fine. I'd keep posting even if I got no feedback.

Rodney:
First of let me ask.....am I the only one who doesen't feel sorry for Max?
No, not at all. I know for a fact that Ellie doesn't feel sorry for him. There's even a part of me who doesn't feel sorry for him, and hell, I wrote him.
I think the two need to promise not to get mad at each other than they just need to sit down and talk it out.Figure out where they're going to go and explain their want's(Tess) and their fears(Kyle)
I think that's exactly what they need to do. Maybe the fact that you've never been married or had kids lets you see the situation more objectively.

Leila: Sugarbabe? Mmm, I like it when you give me sexy nicknames. ;)
Haha, Isabel messed up. She had her revenge but she truly forgot the consequeneces.
Yeah, it seems like she gets caught up on the emotions that she's feeling and then doesn't always think rationally. And like you mentioned, she was high on cocaine, too, so that probably didn't help.
Yet I can understand Alex' reaction. It's a déjà vu for him.
Exactly. The last time this happened to Alex, his entire life took a turn for the worst. Naturally he's thinking it's going to take a turn for the worst again. Alex is sort of the tragic figure for this entire fic. Scratch that, not even sort of. He is.



Thanks for the feedback. Once again, I just learned a hell of a lot more about the story I'm writing by reading what you guys had to say. It sounds cheesy, but it's true. :)








Part 22








Tess lay Macy down in her stroller, covering her up with blankets and popping her pacifier into her mouth. Miley was asleep on the couch, sucking on her thumb.

“So what’s the verdict?” Tess asked. “Am I mom material?”

Liz glanced up from filing her fingernails and nodded in approval. “I’ve gotta hand it to you. You had a toddler and a baby here today, and you handled them really well.”

“Lord knows you didn’t help.”

“Hey, I resent that.” Liz pulled open her top drawer and tossed the nail filer inside. “So do you want me to talk to Kyle, try and convince him that he’s dad material?” she offered. Tess had told her all about Kyle’s reaction, how he hadn’t exactly seemed thrilled about the idea.

No,” Tess answered emphatically. “I mean . . . thank you for offering. I know you guys used to date—ew—but you’re not really close anymore. And I don’t want him to feel pressured.”

“Makes sense,” Liz acknowledged. Even if she had talked to Kyle about it, she’d have had no clue what to say.

“Okay. Well, I gotta get these two home. Will you be okay closing up?”

Liz glanced around the studio, completely devoid of any customers. “Somehow I’ll manage.”

“Kay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Tess glanced over at her niece and called, “Miley, let’s go.” Miley stirred but didn’t wake up, so Tess had to walk over the couch and touch her shoulder to wake her up. Eventually, the sleepy little girl climbed off the couch and followed Tess out the door. She waved goodbye to Liz, and Liz smiled. She was really cute. It would have been nice to know her better.

Since there was no actual work to be done, Liz decided to clean up around the studio. She opened up the supply closet and hauled out a vacuum, but it’d been so long since she’d used one that she couldn’t get it to turn on. Oh, well, she thought, shrugging as she put it back in the closet. Maybe I can bring Yolanda here next week and she can do the cleaning.

She ran to her desk when her cell phone rang out. Max. “Hey,” she answered, “are you initiating phone sex?”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he muttered.

“Then can I initiate it for you?” Tess wasn’t around. It was the perfect opportunity.

“Actually, I was just wondering what time you’d be home tonight,” Max said.

“Uh, normal time. Why?”

“I’ve got some stuff to take care of, so I might be a little late, but when I get home, I really need to talk to you,” he replied.

She walked over towards the window, looking down at the busy street. It was already happy hour at Rodeo’s bar, even though it wasn’t nighttime. “About what?”

“Just . . .” He paused. “Something.”

She frowned. That didn’t sound good. Whatever it was, she wanted to know about it now. “You can tell me over the phone.”

“No, trust me, I can’t.”

She was starting to feel worried. “Max, what’s--”

“Just promise you’ll love me no matter what, just like you said you would,” he cut in adamantly.

She was starting to feel really worried. “Max, you’re . . .” Before she could tell him he was scaring her, she saw Alex stumbling out the entrance of Rodeo’s. “Oh. My God.” He looked so drunk.

“What?”

He couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. He was swaying from side to side on the sidewalk, shouting at everyone who walked past him. “I have to go.” She hung up the phone and rushed towards the stairs, worried that he was going to stagger out onto the street and get hurt.

He was still there once she got to him. He was staring at the hood ornament on his car as though it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“Alex!” she called as she darted across the street. “Alex! Hey, what’re you doing?”

“I’m going home.” He gave her a big, goofy grin. “Hi, Liz.”

“Hi.” The stench of his breath was so bad that she had to cover her nose. “You’re drunk.”

“Is that really ssso sssssurprising?” he slurred, walking around her towards the driver’s side of his car.

“Oh, no, Alex, you are in no shape to drive.” She ran in front of him, blocking him from his car door. “Let me take you, okay?”

He thought about it for a moment, then begrudgingly nodded.

“Okay. Where are your keys?”

He looked around dazedly and stuttered, “I don’t . . . I don’t remember.”

She sighed. “Then I guess we’re taking my car.”

She had Alex nap on the couch while she closed up the studio, then had to bear all his weight as they rode down the elevator, then practically carried him to her car. He slumped forward in the passenger’s seat, snoring as she drove, but once they got to his house, he’d woken up.

“Well, here you go,” she said, surveying the front yard. “Home sweet home.” She couldn’t deny being disgusted by the bags of trash piled up by the street, the weeds growing on the front yard, and the flies swarming by the side of the house.

“Home sweet home,” Alex echoed bitterly. “Yeah. This . . . this isss a nice car, Liz.” He ran his hands over the leather seats of the Lexus and pressed his palm against the window. “It’s really nice. You should enjoy it while it’s still yours.”

She wasn’t quite sure what he was saying. “I will. Let’s get you inside.”

“No, I mean you should really enjoy it,” he said before she could open her door. “‘Cause pretty soon it’ll all be gone.”

She frowned. “Alex, you’re not making any sense.”

“Sorry,” he apologized, lifting his knees towards his chest. “It’ll make more s-s-s-sense when you hear it from him.”

Him? “From who?”

“Max.”

She knew there was something Max had wanted to tell her. Was Alex talking about the same thing? “Hear what from Max?” she asked.

“Oh, you know.” He curled up on his side, facing away from her and hugging his knees as though he intended to go to sleep. “Company go boom.”

She stared at him in confusion, wondering what that meant. But when she remembered the urgency and dread she’d heard in Max’s voice over the phone, it all started to make sense. Suddenly, everything fell into place.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria stood next to the couch, looking down at Michael as he slept. He’d been trying to stay up to watch a football game that evening, but his exhaustion had gotten the best of him. She couldn’t blame him. She’d felt like that before.

She lay down on top of him, loving that he was like a human pillow, but an in-shape human pillow. She bent down and kissed him, but his lips didn’t move against hers. “You’re tired,” she murmured.

“Mmm.”

She placed one hand atop his heart and teased, “You’re too tired to kiss.”

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and shifted beneath her. “I’m never too tired to do that.” He placed his hands in the curve of her waist, and she bent her head to kiss him again. This time he kissed her back. They only got to make out a little bit before Miley padded into the living room.

“Mama?”

“Oh!” Maria practically vaulted off Michael, her worst fear of having her daughter catch the two of them in the act becoming a little more real each day. “Miley, what’re you doing up? You know you’re not supposed to go downstairs by yourself.”

“Sorry.” She held up a folded piece of paper with a drawing of Frank on the front. “I made this for Grandma Amy.”

Maria melted. How could she be mad at her kid for going downstairs by herself when she was so adorable? “Oh, sweetie . . .” She took the card from her and looked at it. Inside, Miley had attempted to write something that Maria couldn’t discern and had signed her name in shaky handwriting. The fact that she could write any letters at such a young age was really remarkable, and the fact that she had made her grandma a get well card touched Maria’s heart. “She’ll love it,” she said, holding back tears.

“Will you give it to her?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll mail it tomorrow.”

Miley smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Maria handed the card to Michael. “Look at that.”

He sat up. “Wow, Miley, that’s really good.” He smiled at her, and she giggled.

“Alright, let’s get you back to bed,” Maria decided.

“‘Night, Daddy.”

“Goodnight.”

Maria carried Miley upstairs, giving Michael a look. She was about as in the mood as she was going to be for awhile now. Once she got Miley back to bed, she wanted to have a little fun. She really needed fun.

Miley went back to sleep easily. When Maria strolled into her own bedroom, Michael was coming out of the bathroom looking disheveled yet satisfied.

“You ready?” she asked.

“Um, I gotta be honest, I have no energy to do it tonight,” he confessed.

“Then what were you doing in the bathroom?”

“Well . . .” He sat down on the side of the bed. “I did have enough energy to do it solo.”

“What? No!” She playfully hit his shoulder. “I hate you!”

He smirked. “No, you don’t. You love me.”

“Not right now I don’t. That is so unfair.” She reached down and unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. “You know what? I’m gonna do it solo and make you watch.”

His eyebrows shot upward. “That might wake me up.” He reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling her down atop his lap. She kissed him passionately, and they fell backward onto the bed together. He rolled them over so that he was on top of her and slipped one hand into the opened front of her jeans to touch her through her panties. She was already so into it when suddenly she heard something that took her out of the situation entirely. It was a sound coming from Macy’s baby monitor. At first, she wasn’t sure if she’d heard it correctly, but then she heard it again.

She pressed her hands against Michael’s chest, pushing him back a little. “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“She said ‘Mama.’”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Yes, she did. Twice!”

Michael looked at the baby monitor skeptically.

Maria shoved him off her and ran towards the nursery. “Macy!”

They both hovered above her crib for about five minutes, each waiting to hear something, but it was mostly just gurgles.

“I don’t hear anything,” Michael said.

“Shh, listen.”

And suddenly, just like that, Macy reached her arms up towards Maria and cooed, “Ma-ma.”

“Oh, heck yes!” Maria exclaimed, feeling as though someone had just shot off fireworks in her heart.

“No!” Michael wailed.

“Yes! In your face! In your face!” she shouted, doing a little victory dance next to the wooden rocking horse Macy would ride when she was older. “Way to go, Macy Elaine! You chose the right word for your first word. Shazam!”

“No, Miley chose the right word for her first words. It’s called Dada,” Michael argued.

“Hey, I bet Macy’s gifted, too, because Mama’s way harder to say than Dada because of the ‘m’ sounds. Ha!” She resumed her victory dance.

“Looks like we got ourselves a competition here,” he said. “Next kid’s gonna have to decide it.”

“Yeah, tiebreaker.” She stopped dancing and reached down into Macy’s crib to hold her hand. “Aw . . .” For six months, she’d waited to hear what her youngest daughter’s first word would be. The fact that it was ‘Mama’ made her feel really, really good.

“So . . .” Michael wrapped an arm around her shoulder and said, “speaking of the next kid . . .” He grinned at her, and she squealed as he swept her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

Five minutes later, he lay flat on his back, his head at the foot of the bed, his eyes once again closed. His shirt was undone but not off, and he couldn’t seem to move. “Oh, I’m too tired,” he groaned.

She laughed a little. That was okay. She could go another night without sex. She’d gotten to hear Macy say her first word, and that alone made the night a good one, best she’d had since she’d found out about her mom.

“I love you,” she told Michael as she snuggled up against him.

He put one tired arm around her and hugged her close. “I love you, too.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Max couldn’t have walked any more slowly to his front door if he’d tried. He knew he was prolonging the inevitable, the conversation he needed to have with Liz. He’d stayed at work longer than necessary just because he was dreading it so much. There was no good way to go about it. Her whole life was going to change for the worse because of . . . because of himself, because of things he’d done in the past. He had no idea how Liz was going to react, but at least she would hear it from him and not from anyone else.

“Liz, I love you more than anything on earth, but there’s something I need to tell you,” he rehearsed as he walked up the steps to his house. He shook his head. That made it sound like he was coming out of the closet. “Liz, our love is worth more than all the money in the world . . .” He trailed off again. That sounded stupid and too cheesy. “Liz, I’m an idiot.” He unlocked the front door and stepped inside. “Liz?” he called. His voice echoed off the walls. His house was huge. His house was nice. His house wouldn’t be his much longer. “Wife of mine, are you home?”

No response.

He heard sounds coming from the kitchen. He thought it might be Liz, but when he rounded the corner, he found Yolanda sitting at the table, using the apron of her maid outfit to wipe away her tears.

“Yolanda, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Yolanda looked up at him with mascara and tear tracks running down her face. “She told me.” She rose to her feet, glared at him, then broke down into tears again and ran towards the bathroom, shutting herself inside.

Max frowned in confusion. He couldn’t worry about Yolanda, though, not when he had to think about Liz.

He headed upstairs and found Liz in the bedroom. She was sitting up in their king-sized bed. When she saw him, she glared at him the same way Yolanda had.

“Hey, what’s wrong with the maid?” he asked, but she didn’t answer. “And you,” he added. “I haven’t even been home for two minutes and somehow I’ve managed to piss you off.”

There was venom in her eyes. She hadn’t looked at him like this since he’d broken up with her back in college, chosen the company over her like the prick he had been.

“My parents didn’t come to our wedding because they found out you’re a rapist,” she said. “My whole family chose to sit it out. And I forgave you for that. I’ve forgiven you for a lot of things, Max. I’ve stuck by you through thick and thin. I’ve set aside all morality and common sense just to be with you. Because I love you so much.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s supposed to be us against the world.”

“It is.” It always had been.

“No, it’s not,” she cried. “Not if you’re keeping secrets from me.”

His entire body deflated as he realized that she knew. Somebody had told her.

“Then it’s us against each other and that’s not what marriage is about.” She tossed the covers aside and got out of bed. “I had to find out from Alex. He was drunk; he didn’t even know what he was saying. But that’s who I heard it from. And when I asked Isabel about it, she said you’ve known for months that this would happen and you didn’t tell me. Is that true?”

He swallowed hard, ashamed to admit any of this. “Yes.”

She winced.

“I wanted to tell you,” he insisted. “I was going to tell you tonight, but . . . I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Are we really gonna have to sell our house?”

He glanced around their bedroom. They had a lot of nice things in there. Pricey. Worth a lot. “Yeah.”

“And our cars and . . . everything?”

“I’m so sorry.”

She looked devastated. Her eyes were wide and glistening with tears, her mouth agape with desperation. “What’re we gonna do? Where are we gonna live?”

“We’ll figure something out,” he assured her. “All that matters is that we’re together.” He reached out to hold her hand, but she jerked away from him.

Don’t try to make this romantic, Max. It’s not romantic,” she snapped.

“It’s a change, I know,” he acknowledged, “especially for me. I’ve never been . . . poor.” And he knew for a fact that was what he would be when this was all said and done.

“Is that what we are now? Poor?”

Suddenly the fears started to creep in, the completely unrealistic voices in the back of his head that said, She only married you for your money. She doesn’t really love you. He knew that wasn’t true, but it made his palms sweat nonetheless. “We took vows,” he reminded her. “For richer or for poorer.”

“Max, why did you spend all that money on our wedding and our honeymoon?”

He shrugged hopelessly. “It seemed important at the time.”

“More important than our house?”

“Well, yeah. I wanted to give you that perfect day and that perfect week after. I didn’t care how expensive it was, but . . .” Good intentions got screwed over in the end. What else was new? “Everything I try to do gets screwed up,” he lamented. “Look, I know you’re scared, but I’ll take care of you.”

She walked towards him, causing him to back out the door and into the hallway. “How can I trust anything you say when you didn’t even see fit to tell me about this?”

“Liz, I’m your husband.”

“But not a very good one.” She slammed the door in his face, and he sighed in defeat as he heard it lock into place. All his worst fears were coming true at once.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel stayed up late that night, sitting next to Alex’s bed, watching him sleep. She remembered the first time she’d seen him during spring break at Florida. She’d been hoping he would pay for her drink. Never had she imagined that she would end up married to him, that she would have a son with him.

One of the first things he had told her was that he didn’t drink because alcoholism ran in his family. That was then. This was now.

She saw red when she stared at him. She saw one of the reasons why she wasn’t with Michael. If Alex had never come Santa Fe, she and Michael would have settled into parenthood together. They’d been heading down that road until Alex showed up with authentic paternity test results in his back pocket.

“Loser,” she bit out. That was what he was. He was unmotivated, unsuccessful, and half the time it seemed as though he barely knew his son was alive. He was nothing like Michael. Hell, even Billy rivaled him, and he was a loser, too.

Billy. She thought about him, and she felt a tingle between her legs. No matter what was going wrong in her life, she felt better when they fucked. But since he was in Colorado and she wasn’t, that put a damper on things.

She got up and left Alex’s bedroom, closing the door. Out in the hallway, she dialed Billy’s number, hoping he might pick up. But it went straight to voicemail.

“Dammit, Billy. It’s me,” she said, running her hands through her hair in distress. “I wish you hadn’t left. Things are bad right now. Alex lost his job because Max’s company’s going under. I just-I need you here.” She swallowed hard and held in tears. “I need you to fuck me.” She slammed the phone shut and decided she’d fuck herself. She ran into her bedroom, slammed the door, and undid her pants with one hand while rummaging through her nightstand drawer with the other. She took out a framed photo of Michael, one she’d taken of him back when they’d been dating, and threw her body down atop her bed, fingering herself furiously as she gazed at his image.

She could almost pretend it was his hand instead of hers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Tess walked into the bathroom, she found Kyle taking part in his usual morning ritual. He was at the shaving stage. She found the stern look of concentration on his face as he dragged the razor along his jaw line absolutely adorable and hilarious.

“I’m so glad I don’t have to shave every day,” she said, sitting down on the edge of the tub. A lack of facial hair was one of the few perks of being a girl. Of course she had to mess with leg hair and nose hair and eyebrow hair and . . . other hair.

“I do it for you, baby, so you don’t have to feel like you’re kissing a cactus.” He grinned, never taking his eyes off his task in the mirror.

“Oh, I’d kiss you no matter what,” she assured him, turning on the bathtub.

“Really?” His eyes lit up with excitement. “Cool. Then I’ll go ahead and get fat and hairy and smelly.”

She froze and gave him a look of dread.

“Just kidding.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and adjusted the temperature of the water filling the tub. “Okay, so I’ll kiss you as long as I want to.” She squeezed some wonderful-smelling Sweet Pea bubble bath from Bath and Body Works into the tub and watched for a moment as suds started to form immediately. Finally, she glanced back over at Kyle and bravely approached the topic neither one of them was addressing. “So have you given any thought to what we talked about?”

“Huh?” He rinsed off his razor in the sink. “Oh, you mean the baby thing.”

“Yeah.” That sounded a little too casual, though. “Or maybe we could call it our future family. I don’t know.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I thought about it.”

She stared at him expectantly. Was that it? Kyle was usually a talkative person. Of course he had to choose now of all times to become the epitome of the male stereotype. “So . . . what’re you thinking?” she asked, trying to urge him to share his feelings.

“I’m not sure.”

She rolled her eyes.

“What? I’m really not sure.”

“Well, it’s this big, fat elephant in the room, so could you just get sure one way or the other?” She was well aware of how pushy she sounded, but she didn’t care.

“I just don’t wanna make a hasty decision,” he explained, leaning against the sink. “If we decide to have a baby . . . that’s forever.”

“I know.” Did he honestly think she hadn’t given any thought to that? “But we know we’re gonna have a baby someday, right?”

“Right.”

“So why can’t someday be today? Why wait? We’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”

He looked down at his feet and asked, “We are?”

“Yeah. Don’t you think so?”

“I don’t know . . .” he mumbled, trailing off.

“You don’t know anything right now, do you?”

He shrugged. “Sorry.”

She shook her head impatiently and turned away from him to turn off the water. “Don’t be sorry. Be . . . decisive,” she told him, wishing the decision had already been made. Wasn’t it simple? They weren’t kids anymore; they were adults, and adults had babies.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria couldn’t stop gloating while she and Michael ate breakfast. In fact, she wasn’t doing much eating because she was doing more talking. “I can’t decide if I should tell the whole world about Macy’s first word or just rub it in your face for the rest of my life,” she pondered.

He gave her a don’t-you-dare kind of look, but it quickly changed into a smile. “It’s good to see you happy again.”

“Yeah. It feels good,” she agreed. “But to tell you the truth, I’m still really nervous about this mammogram.”

He shoved half a pancake into his mouth and asked, “Did you schedule it?” in between chews.

“Yeah, for tomorrow afternoon.” She shivered at the mere thought of it.

“You want me to go with you?”

“No, that’s okay. Tess volunteered to go with me. She’s gonna have one done, too.” She laughed a little. “You know, sometimes being a girl really sucks.”

“Hey, bein’ a guy’s not much better,” Michael pointed out. He checked to make sure that Miley was still in the living room watching TV with Macy, then leaned in and spoke quietly. “Remember last year when that doctor convinced me to have that prostate exam?”

“Oh.” Maria laughed.

“What? It’s not funny.”

“Yeah, it is.” She would never forget that horrified look on his face when he came home, the claims that he might have been raped, and his fear of taking his pants off for two weeks afterwards. “You were so freaked out.”

“Because my dad told me it wasn’t pleasant, but I had no idea it’d be that bad.”

“Oh, you big wimp,” she teased. “You’d never survive anal sex.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I happily wouldn’t,” he agreed readily. “I don’t know how you and Marty do it.”

“Well, it’s not like I make a regular habit out of it,” she pointed out. “Marty on the other hand . . .”

“I don’t know, we went through that phase,” he reminded her. “That phase.”

“Oh, I remember that phase.” After Miley had been born, they’d become anal sex aficionados because there was no risk of getting pregnant that way. But after awhile, they just hadn’t been able to resist the allure of good old-fashioned doing it.

“What sex phase do you think we’ll go through next?” she asked quietly, glad that Miley couldn’t hear a word they were saying. Not that she’d know what they were talking about anyway.

“I don’t know, depends on when we have sex again,” he replied. “When do you think we’ll do that?”

“Depends on when you stay awake,” she retorted.

“Oh . . . touché.”

She laughed and sipped her coffee as Miley called out to her.

“Mama, do I go with Aunt Tess today?”

“Um, no, sweetie,” she answered, “you’re gonna go to work with Daddy today. And Macy, too.”

She clapped her hands excitedly, then resumed watching TV.

“We really need to find her a new daycare,” Michael said. “And we’re gonna have to send Macy there, too. I love ‘em, but I don’t get any work done when they’re there.”

“I feel like I have so many things to do,” Maria said. “Mammogram, daycare, make up that test I bombed . . . have sex.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that last one’s pretty much the top priority.” She sighed wistfully. “It just makes everything else seem so much better.”

He grinned in satisfaction. “That good, huh?”

“Greatest feeling in the world.” It didn’t hurt to inflate his ego. Besides, it was true.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It took every ounce of strength Alex had to get up and out of bed that day. First he went to the bathroom to throw up, then went to check on Garret, who was still asleep. Then he slinked into Isabel’s bedroom. He remembered sharing that bed with her, before she’d told him he had to leave, before she’d made him sleep in the guest room. His own house, and he was in the guest room. Although maybe it wasn’t really his house since Max had paid for it. Maybe it wasn’t his job. Maybe Isabel wasn’t his wife. Maybe nothing truly belonged to him.

He found Isabel asleep as well. She was still wearing her shirt, but her jeans and panties lay discarded on the floor beside the bed. He kicked them aside and looked down at the photo in her hands. Michael Guerin. Of course. It looked like an old photo. She’d slept with it all night.

When he reached down to try to take the picture frame out of her hands, her eyes shot open and she clamped one hand down on his wrist. Her death grip stopped him, and he let go of the picture. She didn’t say anything. What she had been doing with that picture didn’t require an explanation. She sat up slightly, pulled open her nightstand drawer, and set the picture inside. She shut it without a word and looked at him expectantly. When he didn’t say anything, she asked, “Did you sober up?”

If he hadn’t been sober before, he sure was now. Seeing his wife holding onto a picture of some other guy was quite a sobering sight, one he’d sadly grown accustomed to. “Sort of,” he replied, sitting down on the side of the bed. “None of this seems real yet.”

She traced her finger over the Santa Fe University logo on her t-shirt and mumbled absentmindedly, “So who do you hate more, me or Max?”

He was so consumed with hate, it was hard to determine which part of it was directed at which person.

“Or do you still love me?”

He tensed. She knew he’d never hate her, no matter what she did. Or whom.

“You were right all along,” he informed her. “Max is a monster. I’m glad this article exposes him as a rapist, even if it did cause me to lose my job.” Max had managed to delude so many people into thinking he was redeemed, into thinking he helped people. Alex saw past that now, and so did everyone else. “I told him it’s his fault the company’s collapsing, not yours.”

Her eyebrows shot up momentarily. “Hmm. I wonder if he and I might get along better now. All our lives we’ve been fighting over this damn company, but now there’s nothing left to fight over.”

He shook his head. He’d witnessed countless fights between Max and Isabel, listened to her complain about him more than he cared to remember. “You’ll never get along with him. He’ll always think he’s better than everyone else.”

She smirked. “From best friends to worst enemies. I’m glad you’re on my side.”

He grunted. What Isabel failed to recognize was that she and Max were basically the same person. Except she had breasts. “I think it’s safe to say I’m not on your side, Isabel.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

“Well, for starters, I know you got off to a picture of your ex-boyfriend last night.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t deny it.

“No, I’m not on anyone’s side,” he said. “And no one’s on mine. I’m completely alone.” It was a bleak thought, but a truthful one. There had only been one person there for him in his entire life, and that was his dad. But he was in jail now, so he didn’t count.

Isabel studied him for a long period of uninterrupted silence, then asked out of nowhere, “Is your nice suit ironed?”

“What?”

“You’re unemployed now,” she stated simply, “and that’s unacceptable. You need to go out and find a new job. Wear your nice suit. Look qualified.”

Look qualified? Was she saying that he wasn’t qualified? Maybe she was right. “No, I’m takin’ a day off,” he decided. When she gave him an exasperated look, he said, “I don’t feel well. I’m tired.” He knew he shouldn’t have drunk so much. He knew that, but it still didn’t stop him.

“You slept all night,” she pointed out.

“Isabel, I lost my job less than twenty-four hours ago. Give me a break.” He didn’t hate Isabel, but he sure disliked her a great deal of the time. She expected so much out of him, and no matter what he did, it was never enough. “In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt for you to get a part-time job.”

“I have a job,” she claimed.

“What, pining over a guy who doesn’t want you anymore?” That wasn’t a job; that was an obsession.

“Being a mom,” she clarified. “To your son. If you were any kind of father at all, you’d get back out there and find a job today. But I should know by now not to expect so much out of you. You always disappoint.”

He swallowed hard, very close to hating her upon hearing her say that. But even that wasn’t enough. “Thanks, Isabel,” he muttered. “You always find a way to make me feel worse.” Maybe that was her job, nagging him. If it was, she was very good at it.








TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
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April
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Part 23

Post by April »

As per Ellie's suggestion, we're doing a poll today for your favorite Isabel nickname in this fic. Most of these are nicknames you (or CID readers) have come up with. I would use the poll option for this, but every time I try to do that anymore, the poll gets screwed up.

So here we go. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE 521/522 ISABEL NICKNAME?

a. Bitchabel
b. Isabitch
c. Wackabel
d. Slutabel
e. Whoreabel
f. Isaslut
g. Isawhore
h. Psychobel
i. Isaboo
j. Schitzobel
k. Banshee Bitch
l. Other (please specify)

:lol: Oh, fun.



And yes, BB, it is noted that Leila and Ellie are big cheaters and you were technically first even though you're not on top. ;)


Ellie: Wow, you wrote a novel-length feedback this time. :lol:
Wow ... six months old and already able to say "mama" - somebody better alert Mensa. They'll never have to worry about scholarships or the like to pay for their schooling, that's for sure.
My mom says I was saying "Mama" and "cheese" by the time I was about six and a half months old, and I'm definitely not a Mensa member. :lol:
So, yeah ... I still don't care that they're going to be homeless. I don't care that they've at least got each other. As far am I'm concerned - Divine justice has finally been served. And those two are more than deserving of it.
I think you'll continue to enjoy their fall from high society for awhile. I don't expect your opinion about Liz to ever change, but we'll have to see with Max. That "Space Monkey" scene that I was telling you about this weekend might change your mind about him a little bit. But I'm not sure. Maybe not. That's okay. :D
And what is this mad desire to have a baby right now anyway? Is Tess hiding something else?
No, Tess isn't hiding anything else. I think she's just got uncontrollable baby fever. She's done the college thing, done the marriage thing, begun the career thing, and now she sees motherhood as the inevitable next step in her life.

Leila:
Especially I like that the main theme of the chapter was 'masturbation'
:lol: I didn't realize that when I first posted it. I actually thought the last part was really sporadic and not cohesive, but now that I think about it, masturbation was a big theme. There were lots of little contrasts in the last part between M+M and A+I.
I still can't figure out what kind of messed up relationship Alex and she have. It looks like they hate each other and she would love to choke him while he's asleep but I assume there's more than meets the eye.
Their relationship is very complicated. Alex is always going to be in love with her, regardless of how crazy and unbearable she gets. It's kind of like how Liz has an inexplicable love for Max; Alex has an inexplicable love for Isabel that he tries to keep hidden as much as he can. But Isabel knows that he still has these feelings for her, and she exploits them and uses them to her advantage whenever she can. They have grown used to each other over the years, used to being married, but it's primarily Isabel's lust for Michael and affair with Billy that's driving them apart. She and Alex could have a decent relationship if both of them just put in an effort.

I applaud you for reading through this very dark, very twisted A+I relationship in this fic, even though you're a hardcore Stargazer. Don't forget that I did promise you a Stargazer sex scene (my first ever), and I will keep that promise. :?

BB:
Michael and Maria need to get their act together and just do it.
I know! If it makes you feel any better, I don't think I'll make you them wait much longer. ;)
Although, Liz was concerned about their material well being, her anger seemed to stem from Max's lies and coverup so maybe she's not as bad as we all like to think she is. I don't think it was bad of her to worry about where they're going to live and what they're going to do, it's a reasonable question I think. My opinion of her hinges on what she does next.
I think Liz's reaction was reasonable, too. In fact, that's probably exactly how I would have reacted, although I might have thrown some heavy objects at him. :lol:

Novy:
It sounds like Max is headed for a big journey.
All the characters are headed for big journeys, although Max's is probably the most unusual.
Yes I was thinking they need to schedule sex in. I was watching Oprah and the sex lady says people should actually do that. lol
Well, who am I to argue with Oprah? :lol:

Sam:
Macy is so cute. I love how excited Maria got over Macy's first word being Mama. Makes me kinda excited to be a mom...eventually
Me, too. Down the line. Like way down the line. :lol:
Why didn't Max confide in her while all this company crisis was happening?
Probably because he was embarrassed and nervous. Embarrassed because he wasn't able to overcome Isabel's "obstacle," and nervous because his whole life is about to change and he's not sure if Liz is going to change along with him.

dreambeliever:
eeeeewwwww...Isabel.
That pretty much sums up the fic. :lol:

Krista:
Again, I'm inclined to disagree with Alex. Max definitely does not still think he's better than everyone else at this point.
I think you're right. Maybe Max used to think that, but nowadays, he probably thinks he's worse than everyone else, even though he may pretend otherwise.
And I'm amazed at the fact that Max's main concerns about the fact that his company "go boom" is that he's letting other people down.
Good observation. As cheesy as it sounds, it isn't really all his money that has made Max rich over the years; it is his relationships with Liz, Garret, and Alex that made him rich. Especially Liz and Garret.
Max may not be a very good husband, but she's not being a very good wife. Where is the compassion, I ask you? Where is the understanding?
Another good point. Maybe when she cools down, she'll act like a better wife. We'll see.

Rodney: Nice new icon. Emilie's got side-boob going on in that pic. :lol:
Okay Alex is very very very annoying in this story. "I hate Isabel" now to "I hate Max" the boy has no back bone what so ever.
And inside, what he's probably saying is "I hate myself." A lot of these people are.



It's a music day. Today I'm bringing by "Moon" by Sia. I love this song. Click on :| when you see it if you would like to listen. (Just to let you guys know, the next music I drop by will be for a scene that you all will like VERY much.)








Part 23






( :| )

The phones never stopped ringing.

Each of Max’s three cell phones sounded shrilly over and over again. The landline phones gave them quite the run for their money, as did his email. Every time he clicked on the refresh button, there was a new email from some business associate asking, Is it true? And it was. Word had gotten out about the fall of his company. Roger had probably told someone in order to make a buck. It was the front page headline in the newspaper now, so reporters were banging on his front door. A few had even sneaked around back to pound on that door as well. All in all, it was quite a ruckus, one that gave Max a migraine and made his ears hurt.

He sat in his living room in his favorite plush chair. It was large and maroon and he would have to sell it. But for the time being, it was still his, so he sat it in and tried to ignore all the noise. If he concentrated hard enough, it would all go away, and he would be the only one there. Just him.

And Liz. She came downstairs wearing black spandex shorts and a white tank top. Her hair was up in a ponytail. She looked like she was going out for a run. She liked to stay in shape. She liked her breast implants, too. They’d cost a lot.

She stopped short of opening the front door and took a few steps back. The reporters were shouting questions through the door as if he cared to answer them.

“Should I even attempt going out there?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t.” She would get hounded.

“This is ridiculous.” She went into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator, taking out a bottle of mineral water. “I don’t understand. How did things get so bad so fast?”

He pressed the refresh button on his computer again. Five more emails. “That’s life,” he muttered. He shut off his cell phones and closed his laptop so that he could talk to her more easily.

“But why do we have to lose everything? I like our house, I like my stuff . . . I don’t wanna give it up.”

He didn’t, either. He wasn’t even sure if he knew how to. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, unable to look at her as he spoke. “I spent more money than I made, thinking I’d be able to pay it all back. But no company, no money, so . . . things are gonna change.”

“But I don’t want things to change.” She sulked into the living room and flopped down on the couch, looking as defeated as he felt. “God, this is all happening because of you and Isabel. You’re really two of a kind, you know that?”

He knew, except that he was more human than her, and she was more monstrous than him. At least he liked to think so.

“When do we have to sell our house?” she asked, picking up an angel figurine off the end table next to the couch, staring at it before setting it back down again.

“Soon.” He wasn’t quite sure when. “It might be foreclosed before we can sell it.” That was a worst case scenario. He was counting on the money they would get from the sale of the house to help him pay off some of his debts.

“Where are we gonna go?”

He wasn’t sure about that, either.

“Are we gonna go stay with Isabel and Alex?” She made a face. “I can’t live with Isabel. I’ll go insane.”

He laughed a little. Maybe that was his problem. All those years of growing up with her had made him lose his mind.

“Max, would you talk to me?”

He could barely talk at all. The words were in the back of his dry throat, and it hurt to say any of them out loud. “They don’t have enough space,” he managed. “Besides, Alex hates me now.” They wouldn’t be welcome there. If his parents weren’t dead, he would have asked to stay with them. If Liz’s parents didn’t despise him, he would have pursued that option.

“Alex was . . . really drunk last night, Max.”

He raked his hands through his hair, hating the guilt he felt for that. He’d hired Alex with the best intentions. He had hoped to make him his right-hand man someday. It just hadn’t worked out. “Firing him was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do,” he confessed in a rush.

“Because he’s your friend?”

“No. Because there are only two people in this entire world that I truly love: you and Garret. And by firing Alex, I felt like I was letting Garret down.” He’d vowed from the moment Garret had been born that he was going to be a good uncle, that he was going to give Garret a positive male role model to look up to. It was something he himself had grown up without, something that had affected him and probably influenced his decision to violate all those girls. If Garret ever found out about that . . . if he learned about the rapes when he was old enough to know what rape was . . . Max felt like he would just die.

“I thought nothing would ever mean more to me than my company,” he said, “but you and Garret mean more than life itself.” And he meant that with every fiber of his being. He would have done anything for them.

“Max . . .” Liz moved from the couch to Max’s lap, looping her arms around his neck and gazing at him with tears in her eyes. “I’m not mad at you,” she said. “I’m just scared. What’s gonna happen to us?”

He wanted to assure her that everything would be fine. He wanted to be the kind of guy that could do that.

“Are we gonna be okay?” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

He stroked her back, lifting her hair with his hands. “We’ll be fine,” he told her, even though he didn’t know if it was true. “We’ll just live somewhere else, drive crappier cars, adjust to life without hired help.”

“Poor Yolanda.”

“She’ll get another job. She’s a good maid.”

“What about you?”

He tried to joke, “Nah, I’m not maid material.”

“You know what I mean. What’re you gonna do for work? You’ll have to find a job. We can’t live forever on my measly paycheck.”

They most certainly couldn’t. He didn’t want to scare her, but he wondered how the hell he was going to find a job with a tarnished last name like Evans. “I’ll find something,” he lied, hoping to convince himself.

“I guess I could drop out of grad school and work full-time,” she mused.

He shot that idea down right away. “No. Keep going to school. I’ll find a way to pay for it. I don’t care how many jobs I have to work. I’ll flip burgers if I have to. I don’t care.” He wasn’t going to make her give up everything that meant something to her. Hell, he hadn’t even graduated college. Big mistake in retrospect.

“This is crazy,” she said. “One week it’s Kamalame Cay. Now it’s this.”

“At least we had a good honeymoon.”

“Yeah, we did.” She smiled fondly for a moment, but then that smile turned into a look of worry once again. “I’m still scared, Max.”

He swallowed hard, closing his eyes, holding her, trying to block out the noises outside. It was just the reporters and the landline phones screaming at him now, but it was still way too loud.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Garret ran up to Isabel as she was coming downstairs. He held a newspaper in his hand and asked, “Mommy, what’s this say?”

She took it from him and halfway smirked. It was the headline about the demise of Max’s company. “Ask your dad,” she said, handing it back to him.

Garret ran into the living room where Alex was sitting in the recliner with a half-empty beer in his hand. “Daddy . . .”

Isabel went into the kitchen and checked her reflection in the microwave. She’d diligently straightened her hair that morning solely for the fact that she wanted to look hot even when Billy wasn’t around. He’d feel guilty for leaving when she told him how hot she looked today. And then he’d come back. It was better when he was there.

“I’m going out for awhile,” she announced. Alex barely acknowledged her, so she asked, “Will you be okay to watch him?”

He nodded mutely before finally speaking up. “Where you going?”

“Oh . . .” That was for her to know and for him to be clueless about. “I’m just gonna go look for a job. For you.”

He rolled his eyes, and she waved goodbye to Garret as she walked out the front door. It took her a moment to get the car to start up. Alex insisted on driving a 1986 black convertible that was literally on its hinges. It had been his father’s car at one time, apparently, and was about the only thing Charles Whitman had left them before heading off to jail to pay his debt to society and get butt-fucked.

Originally, her plan had been to go out to Grunge, the sex club she and Billy had gone to on their first ‘date,’ if it could be called that; but then she decided she’d rather go over to Billy’s house, even if he wouldn’t be there. Lorenzo would probably be home, and he knew how to have a good time, too.

She drove over and knocked on the door. Lorenzo grinned when he saw her. “Hey.”

“Hey, Lorenzo.” She cocked her head to the side, smiling flirtatiously at Billy’s roommate. “You got any stash?”

He grinned in response. Thank God. She really needed to get high.

An hour later—or was it only fifteen minutes? She wasn’t sure—Isabel sat on the couch with Lorenzo in a swirl of marijuana haze. She couldn’t remember taking either of them taking off their shirts, but apparently they had because she was sitting in her bra and jeans and he was in only his boxers.

“Oh-kay,” she said slowly. “A little weed goes a long way.” She felt better. For now, at least.

“Does a body good,” Lorenzo agreed.

“Mmm-hmm.” She stretched her arms over her head, looking around the smoky living room. “Where’s your girlfriend?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s pregnant.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s not mine.”

“You sure?”

“We had a test.”

She laughed. “It’s so easy to forge a test, though. I could tell you some stories.”

“Nah, I don’t even care if it’s mine. She’s a dirty tramp.”

Isabel smiled. “I like her.”

“Yeah, you would.” Lorenzo arranged several lines of coke atop a cracked mirror and said, “Speaking of tramps . . . now that you’re hubby’s out of a job, are you gonna be a stripper?”

“A stripper?” she echoed, feigning offense at the suggestion. “No. But I’d make a damn good one.”

“I’d pay to see you.”

“To see this?” She slid her left bra strap over her shoulder, and her breast fell out. “Oops.” She laughed playfully. “You’ve seen it before. I had sex with you.”

“Yeah, with my monster cock.”

“Yeah. Yours is bigger than Billy’s,” she agreed, remembering the thrill of their threesomes, especially the ones at the beginning of her tryst with Billy. “He uses his better, though.”

Lorenzo gave her a look of disbelief. “No way.”

“Uh-huh. Except when he’s high. He’s no good in bed when he’s high. He’s just all . . . fast.”

Lorenzo snorted with laughter.

“I wish he was here right now, though,” she said lustily. “I wish you hadn’t gotten him those gigs in Colorado. Stupid Colorado.” She pouted. “Stupid Billy.”

“Stupid,” Lorenzo agreed. “You love him?”

“No.” She only loved one person. Well, two if she counted Garret. Although if he and Michael were both drowning in a river and she could only save one of them . . . it would be a tough decision.

“What would you do to him if he was here right now?” Lorenzo asked as he bent forward to do a line of coke.

She grunted, imagining the possibilities. “I’d drag him upstairs and ride him so hard he can’t see straight.”

Lorenzo sat back up and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “You can ride me,” he offered, and Isabel thought to herself, That’s not a bad idea.

They went upstairs and had sex. It was quick and better for him than it was for her, but she’d still managed to get off. Thank fucking God. “Hmm, that was decent,” she said as she rolled over onto the empty space beside him. “I gotta be honest, though, I was thinking of someone else the entire time.”

“Billy?” he guessed.

“Not quite.” She licked her bottom lip, wishing she was tasting Michael’s seed instead of Lorenzo’s. Michael by far tasted the best. In a room of a thousand men, she’d be able to find him solely by his taste.

She laughed, thinking about how seriously messed up her thoughts could get sometimes. Only sometimes.

“I’m just happy to fuck,” Lorenzo said. “I like the whole you havin’ your tubes tied, thing. I can shoot my load with no worries.”

“Yep.” She felt a little sick to her stomach thinking about all the semen that had flowed into her body over the years. It would have been nice if it had only been Michael’s. Or maybe only Michael’s with a slight hint of Carlos’s. What a personal trainer that man had been, whipped both her and her mother into shape.

“You think Billy’s gonna be pissed we fucked?” Lorenzo asked.

“You’re his roommate; you tell me.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, he will, but he’ll get over it.”

She rolled over onto her side, clutching the pillow. It was drenched with sweat, mostly Lorenzo’s. She felt . . . dirty lying in that bed. She wanted to climb in the shower, but that was usually something she did with Billy. Usually they ended up doing it again in there.

“Do you think he’s gonna get a record deal?” she asked fearfully. Billy wasn’t a great catch, but he was just about all she had. She needed him. He made her feel better. Of all the drugs she’d tried over the last year, Billy was by far the most addictive.

“Probably not,” Lorenzo finally replied.

“Probably?” That wasn’t definite enough for her.

“Well, I mean, he’s got some good songs nowadays, especially that one. You know?”

She frowned. “No.”

“Oh, come on, you know that one.”

“What one?” she asked. “What’s it called?”

He smiled at her. “Isabel.”

She clutched the pillow tighter. Billy had named a song after her? That was . . . sweet. But it couldn’t be anything more than that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The waiting room was . . . uncomfortable. The back of the chair was like a slab of rock, and it was too tall. Maria’s feet couldn’t touch the ground. She kept shifting around, but nothing felt right. Luckily having Tess there made her feel better.

“Whoa.” Tess grabbed a newspaper off the table in front of her and said, “Take a look at this.” She held it up for Maria to see.

“Whoa.” At first Maria didn’t think she’d read it right. The demise of Evans Hotels? How was that possible? It was like an empire. She took the paper from Tess and read the first sentence of the article. It explained why the business had fallen. “Ha.” She handed the newspaper back to her friend.

“Ha what?”

“Read the first sentence.”

Tess did, and her eyes widened. “Oh. An anonymous source, huh? Was it you?”

“No, but whoever she is, more power to her. She’s my new hero.” Maria suddenly felt much better. It was about time Max faced some consequences for his actions.

“Why isn’t she suing him?” Tess wondered aloud.

“I don’t know. But I think it’s fitting that Max’s past destroys his future, you know?” Now even though he wasn’t a convicted rapist, everyone knew about it.

“I feel bad for Liz, though,” Tess said, folding the paper back up and setting it aside. “She must not have known ‘cause she didn’t say anything to me the other day.”

“Well, she knows now.” Maria didn’t have much sympathy for her, if any.

“That sucks for her to have to deal with this.”

“She made the choice to marry the man.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t know this was gonna happen.”

Maria chipped at the polish on her fingernails, wondering just how much Max and Liz would lose because of this. “Do you think they’ll get a divorce?” The wedding had been horrible, after all, and that didn’t exactly bode well for the future.

“I don’t know,” Tess replied. “I should call her later and see how she’s doing.”

Maria laughed a little. “Befriending your ex-boyfriend’s ex-mistress has got to be the weirdest thing you’ve ever done.”

“I know,” Tess agreed. “God, I’m gonna have to give her a raise, aren’t I?”

Before Maria could advise her not to do that, the nurse came out into the waiting room. “Maria DeLuca?” she called. “The doctor’s ready to see you.”

Maria’s stomach clenched, but she knew she had to do this. No turning back now, that sort of thing.

“Good luck,” Tess told her.

“You, too.” She got to her feet and followed the nurse back to one of the rooms. Dr. Henderson, a middle-aged redhead with a friendly smile and a soothing voice, came in shortly after and began asking her some questions while taking notes.

“So you said your mother has stage II breast cancer?”

Maria nodded, still grappling with that horror. “Yeah, IIB.”

Dr. Henderson nodded and wrote that down.

“Is that, like, a hopeless stage?” Maria asked. “‘Cause she says it’s not, but I don’t know if she’s lying to me or . . .”

“No cancer stages are hopeless, Maria,” the doctor assured her. “Some people in that stage end up making a full, lifelong recovery.”

“Some,” Maria echoed, “but not all.”

“No, not all.” Dr. Henderson looked at her sympathetically before moving onto her next question. “So is this your first mammogram?”

“Yeah. Is that bad?”

“No, not at all. You’re young, you’re healthy. But it’s not a bad idea to have one done after finding out about your mom. You won’t need to have one every year, but periodically, you should. Have you done any self-exams?”

Finally, Maria thought, something that makes me seem responsible. “Yeah,” she answered. “We didn’t feel anything.”

Dr. Henderson gave her a curious look. “We?”

Maria grew red with embarrassment. “Oh, um, me and . . . my fiancé.” She switched the subject quickly. “So how exactly is a mammogram done?”

“Well, you’ll have a screening mammogram, which is the kind we do for women who have no symptoms of breast cancer,” Dr. Henderson explained. “We’re going to take ex-rays of each breast. You’ll stand in front of a machine, and one at a time, your breasts will be placed between an x-ray plate and a plastic plate. Those plates will compress your breasts.”

Maria gave her a confused look. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew what that meant, but she was a little too taken aback by the unpleasant description of the procedure to fully comprehend.

“Flatten them,” Dr. Henderson said.

“Oh.” Maria winced. “Ow.”

“It’s a bit uncomfortable,” the doctor acknowledged, “but it only takes a minute. The whole thing lasts about twenty minutes from start to finish, and then it’s done.”

“Unless I have cancer.” Then it sure as hell wouldn’t be done.

“That’s extremely unlikely at your age,” Dr. Henderson reassured her.

Maria still shuddered. She hated being here. She hated to think of her mother being there, always being there for chemo. “So when it’s happening, should I try to think about good things?” she asked, feeling very childish for posing the question.

“I would,” the doctor suggested.

“Okay.” She closed her eyes even though she wasn’t in the exam room yet and thought of all the things that made her smile and laugh and feel warm inside. “I’ll think about Miley and Macy and Michael,” she said. “And sex.”

Dr. Henderson laughed and nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The doctor’s office was backed up, so Maria and Tess didn’t get their mammogram results that day. They were told they would get them in the mail over the course of the next few days and that if there was anything alarming, the doctor would ask them to come into the office again to discuss it. Maria hated the not knowing, but there was nothing she could do to make the time go faster, so she went home to Michael, spent the night with him and the girls, and then waited until they had gone to bed to turn down an offer of sex. No one was more surprised by that than her.

“I don’t get it,” Michael said. “Why don’t you wanna have sex? I thought it was your ‘top priority.’”

“It was. It still is,” she promised. “It’s just . . .” She whimpered and motioned to her breasts. “They don’t feel very sexy right now.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause of the mammogram.” There was nothing like having your boobs squeezed by two plates to make you feel completely undesirable. She’d tried to pretend that it had been some sort of kinky sex thing, but that was impossible.

“I think they’re sexy.” He leaned forward and pushed her backwards on the couch, falling on top of her. He unbuttoned her blouse, slid his fingers underneath her bra, and massaged her flesh with his hands, pressing a passionate kiss to her cleavage.

“Mmm,” she moaned, arching up into him. “They feel a little sexier when you do that.”

He kissed his way up to her neck, her cheek, and her lips. His mouth stalled against hers, and he said, “You still don’t wanna do it, do you?”

“I want to,” she assured him. “I just can’t tonight.” She was content with this, though, some cuddling and groping.

“Fine,” he resigned, sliding his hands out from beneath her bra.

“I learned something today,” she announced, gazing up at him adoringly.

“What?”

“Women who don’t have kids before they turn thirty have a higher risk of developing breast cancer. So our unsafe sex was actually really beneficial.”

“I knew it would be.” He smirked and moved a little on top of her, resting his head on her chest. They wouldn’t be able to lie like that for long. He was a lot heavier than her. But it was nice to be his human pillow for once since he was usually hers.

“You think Tess is gonna tell that to Kyle, try to convince him?” Michael asked.

She ran her hands through his unruly hair. “No,” she said. “She’s not that desperate.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tess sat at her dresser, combing out her hair that night while Kyle lay on his stomach on the bed, filling out a crossword puzzle.

“Did you know that women who don’t have kids before they turn thirty have a higher risk of developing breast cancer?” she asked.

“Really?” He sounded uninterested.

“Yeah. Maria told me.”

“Well, she’s a reliable source.”

“She heard it from a doctor.”

“Oh, I see.”

Tess set her brush down and turned around to face him. “So what do you think about that?” His mind was still closed off to her, and it was driving her crazy.

He looked up from his crossword puzzle only momentarily to say, “I think . . . you’re twenty five, not thirty,” before he returned his attention to number thirteen across.

Tess rolled her eyes and turned back around, picking up her brush again to finish combing out her hair.

“What’s a four letter word used to describe a man?” Kyle asked.

“Jerk,” she grunted, brow furrowed.

“Jerk.” He wrote the letters into the boxes and declared, “Hey, that works.”








TBC . . .

-April
Last edited by April on Mon Apr 19, 2010 10:14 am, edited 1 time in total.
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April
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Part 24

Post by April »

It looks like, with 4 votes, Isabitch is the leading nickname over here, although Psychobel is running second. You can still vote if you haven't already, or if you were undecided like Ellie. You hear that, Ellie? You're indecisive. :lol:


Ellie:
I really do need to get started on my story. Positive thing though ... I was able to half way complete my outline.
That's great! I swear, I was, like, stalking your Youtube channel yesterday after I got your friend invite to see if I could figure out any info about this fic. I'm looking at the new background you've got there now, and I see that you're planning on having music accompany your story. You know that gets a big "Woohoo!" from me.
ACK! You used my favorite song, after Numb, for a Max scene? Whyyyyyyyyy???
:lol: Lots of the music I pick has either gone towards Max or Isabel scenes in this fic. I think it's because I like dark and twisted music sometimes, and they are very dark and twisted. (Numb is fantastic.)

BB:
If only Isabel could channel her powers for good, there'd be no stopping her. The Evans Empire would be a global power by now.
I know!
I actually enjoyed the scene with Max and Liz. They really do love each other and have a solid relationship. It's nice to see the human side of both of them. It's going to be so interesting to see how they manage without money and how they'll cope.
They might seem more and more human as they lose more and more of their money.
That song was lovely. Can't wait for the next one.
I'm glad to know people actually listen to the music I bring by and that I'm not wasting my time with that. :)

Novy:
How will Max get a job if no one likes him and he doesn't have a degree?
Hmm, that's a good question.
I have a feeling Billy will upset she slept with his roommate. I'm kind scared to know what she would find herself in without Billy around. She's going to need another addiction or she will turn all her focus on Michael probably.
In a strange way, Billy kind of keeps her sane. Or maybe sane isn't the right word. No, that word should probably never be used in connection with Isabel in this fic. He keeps her from going over the edge, not exactly sane, but not exactly insane, either.

dreambeliever:
Okay so at first I was going to vote: b. Isabitch.....but then I realized she is really not just a bitch she is so much more complex and fu**ed up...so my vote would be: h. Psychobel.....final answer!
Nice reasoning. I wish I could remember who came up with the Psychobel nickname. I think it was Christina (Wench on a Leash), though I'm not sure.

lilah:
And her talk of finding the taste of Michael's semen???? Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew....
One of the many disgusting and disturbing Isabel lines that I wrote for this fic.
Maria saying that her and Michael's unsafe sex had actually paid off had me rolling on the floor. I'm using that line on my husband tonight, and I'm sure that I will get his patented "you're an idiot" look, but it's worth a shot, so thanks for the verbal ammo April!
:lol: You're welcome.

Rodney:
Good lord is there nobody Isabel won't spread her legs for?
Well . . . Alex. :oops:
If she keeps this up she's going to need a sign like they used to have a McDonalds that said "Over two million served" Or maybe a sign like they have at the Waffle House saying "Open 24/7"
:lol: Oh, goodness, you're a genius.
I think Tess is going to push it to fast and too hard on Kyle making him mad.I mean how would she feel if Kyle wanted a kid and she didn't and he was always putting the pressure on her over it?
Exactly. Tess is so focused on being right that she can't understand that she may be wrong.

Krista:
I think their next step should really be to get a pet. They're kind of like a kid, only with less hassle. I think that all couples should own a pet before they decide to have kids, in fact. My boyfriend and I are quickly learning what kind of parent the other would be by the way we treat our animals. LOL.
I think that is a fabulous idea. In fact, I think it's so fabulous that it should be made into a law. All couples must adopt pets before they have kids. Says Krista and April. It is now law. ;)
I suppose he can always scoop dog crap (I actually saw an advertisement for this at our local pet store!).
Oh, god. What an . . . interesting job that must be. I guess it's better than nothing, if you're really desperate.
Seriously though, if Max and Liz manage to clean up their act a little and buy a nice little house (because in April's world, houses don't cost very much), some nice karma would be for Max to call social services on Isabel's ass and get her son taken away from her.
In Nebraska houses don't cost very much. This October, my mom and I sold our house for only $95,000. And it was a nice house, too, in a nice neighborhood. Furnished basement and everything. I was really hoping we would get more for it. There was a house across the street that was a little smaller than ours that sold for $65,000.
You wouldn't be so cruel as to give Maria and/or Tess cancer would you? I don't think you would.
Well, I already gave Amy cancer, so . . . probably not. ;)

Leila:
Thank you. I don't need to tell you that I really enjoy that version of their relationship. I like it when things are a bit more complicated and twisted than being lovey dovey happy. Moreover, your characterization is awesome what makes me enjoy the story even more.
Aw, thank you. I've always considered characterization to be my strong point as a writer. I'm glad I'm not totally deluding myself when I think that.
Yet he has the chance to have a new life without having his dad's influence and shoadow following him. Now he can redeem himself (a bit).
There's one way to look at the situation, the glass half-full.
Her mind is scary and want to have more. I want to more what she does and says next.
You want it, you got it!

Farrah:
I vote Isabitch.

(although Bitchabel has a nice ring to it)
I think Bitchabel is the only one I can credit myself for. All the others are nicknames suggested by you guys.



Thank you so much for reading and for leaving feedback.

Isabel's stalkerish-ness probably reaches its peak in this part. For awhile at least. These last few parts have been sort of dark and heavy, so rest assured that Friday's update is a bit more humorous and fun in parts.










Part 24








Kids were an interesting breed of human. They could find enjoyment in almost anything. Garret found a tall, skinny stick out in the front yard and ran around with it as though it were his new best friend. Isabel sat out on the front porch and watched him just to make sure he didn’t poke his eye out. He looked . . . carefree. She couldn’t even remember what it was like to feel that carefree. Maybe she’d never known.

Liz’s Lexus rolled to a stop in front of the house, and Isabel groaned inwardly. Her sister-in-law was easily one of the most annoying people on the planet and completely oblivious to that fact.

Liz was dressed down for once in jeans and a black university t-shirt. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail and there were large dark circles under her eyes. She stopped in the front yard and managed to smile and say hi to Garret, but then he went back to playing with the stick and she walked up to the porch to sit beside Isabel. She didn’t say anything at first, just preoccupied herself with crushing a spider beneath the toe of her shoe. Finally, she announced, “I could kill you right now.”

Isabel smirked, her eyes still on Garret. “Take your best shot.”

Liz folded her arms and leaned forward, her hair flapping wildly behind her in the breeze. “It wouldn’t make me feel any better,” she mumbled.

“Bet it would.” Isabel reached down beside her and picked up her coffee mug. She took a sip, then asked, “Is the house up for sale?”

“Yeah, as of this morning. Max says it’ll be foreclosed if we don’t sell it soon.”

Isabel tried to not say anything, but the situation was too delicious. She couldn’t resist. “I think this is just wonderful,” she proclaimed, smiling and laughing gleefully.

“Shut up,” Liz snapped.

“No, hear me out. You have all this money and all this nice stuff, and you didn’t do anything to deserve any of it. Hell, Max didn’t even do anything to deserve it, and now it’s gone. Or at least it’s gonna be.” She sighed contentedly. “The universe works in mysterious ways.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” She grunted. “Please. I’ve been where you are. It sucks. Pretty soon you and Max will know what it’s like to be me. To have money and feel it slip away.” She stared off into space, remembering the exact moment she’d decided to cheat on Michael, the moment she’d watched a hundred dollar bill fall out of Alex’s wallet. “To have love until it slips away.”

“This won’t change how I feel about Max,” Liz argued firmly. “I love him.”

“But you’ve always loved Max the millionaire,” Isabel pointed out.

“I love him, not his money.”

Isabel laughed. “God knows why.” The man was not a great catch. Why didn’t Liz understand that? “I loved Michael,” she pointed out. “I still do. But money got in the way. It always does.”

“Yeah, well, I guess the difference between us is that the guy I love loves me back.” With that, Liz got up and headed back out into the yard.

Isabel glared at her, boring holes into her back. Michael had loved her back not all that long ago. He’d loved her first, before anyone else. That kind of thing didn’t just go away. First loves were forever. Liz was wrong.

“Bitch!” Unable to control herself, Isabel threw her coffee down on the porch, shattering the mug. She shot to her feet and ran after Liz, tackling her to the ground.

“Get off of me!” Liz shouted, trying to push her away.

Isabel pulled on her hair.

“Ow, Isabel, stop!”

Before she could inflict any of the damage she so desperately wanted to, Alex ran out of the house, grabbed her, and pulled her off of Liz. “Isabel! Isabel!” He shook her. “What the hell are you doing?”

Wasn’t it obvious? She was hating Liz, and that was natural.

“Garret, get inside,” Alex said.

Garret dropped his stick and ran into the house. All the momentum left Isabel’s body. She hadn’t meant for him to see this.

“Liz, I’m so sorry,” Alex apologized, even though he hadn’t done anything. He was such a chump like that.

“She’s crazy.” Liz got to her feet and scrambled back to her car.

Oh, you have no idea, Isabel thought, jerking her arms away from her husband. She stormed into the house to find Garret and let him know that hitting people wasn’t okay. Unless they deserved it like Liz did.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“What happened to you?”

Liz trudged over to her desk, half her hair falling out of her ponytail. “Isabel.”

Tess raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“She decided her life’s not dramatic enough, so she started a catfight.”

“What a psycho.” Tess dreaded the thought of what would have happened to Michael had he stayed in a relationship with her. He’d been a mess after finding out about her infidelity, but in retrospect, it was one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

Liz sat down at her desk and rubbed her forehead, looking exhausted. It didn’t matter in that moment whether she was the world’s best person or not; Tess felt bad for her. “Sorry about Max’s company,” she said. “That must be really hard to deal with.”

“It is,” Liz admitted. “Our house is up for sale now. We don’t even have a place to go.”

“Well . . . I know of some nice apartments.” Some of the best days of her life had been spent in the Fairview apartment complex with Kyle and Michael and Maria. Maybe Max and Liz could be happy there, too.

“We probably won’t even have enough money to rent.”

“Seriously?” Rent wasn’t that steep.

“Yeah, it’s bad. Max makes it sound like we’re gonna have nothing when all’s said and done.”

It sounded terrifying. “Well, at least you’ll have each other.”

“I guess that’s something.”

Tess sat down on the edge of Liz’s desk. “It’s everything.”

“No, it’s not. I hate to break it to you, Tess, but money matters. Food, shelter, clothing . . . it all matters. It’s Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.”

Tess made a face. What the hell was that?

“Didn’t you study that in high school?”

“Um, I’ve pretty much blocked out everything education-related, so . . .” She trailed off and shrugged.

“Oh, well . . . never mind then. But that’s what it is.”

Tess sighed, feeling as though any advices he doled out would be like putting a Band-Aid on a bullet wound. “You could always stay with some friends,” she suggested.

“What friends? We don’t have any,” Liz said dramatically. “Except . . .” She looked up at Tess pleadingly. “You’re my friend.”

“You can’t stay with me.”

“Why not?”

She rose to her feet and walked back over to her own desk. “Because Kyle and I are trying to make a baby; that’s why not.”

“He agreed to it?”

“Well, no, not yet, but he’s going to. He has to.” She hated to admit it, but she was starting to feel just as hopeless about her baby situation as Liz was about her financial situation. If only there was a way they could help each other out . . .

Suddenly, she had an idea. More like an epiphany, actually. It was that good.

“I’ll tell you what: I’ll give you a five percent—no, ten percent—raise if you talk some sense into my husband.”

Liz looked at her confusedly. “I thought you didn’t want me to talk to him.”

“Well, nothing I say is really having an effect, and Michael’s not having much luck, either. Maybe it’d be better if somebody on the outside talked some sense into him. So have at it.”

“Okay,” Liz said, “I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you.”

“Although do you think maybe fifteen percent . . .”

Tess laughed at the ridiculousness of that idea. “Don’t push it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria and Tess went out to the Cowboy Club that night in celebration of the news they’d received from the doctor.

“Cheers to our cancer-free mammogram results,” Maria said, raising her glass.

“And to your mom being cancer-free someday soon, ‘cause I know she’s gonna be.”

“Cheers.” Maria tapped her glass against Tess’s and took a sip. Hers was just club soda. Tess’s was beer. “You know,” she said, “when you’re pregnant, you can’t drink like that.”

“A minor drawback,” Tess acknowledged, “but I’ll survive. Why don’t you drink tonight? I happen to know for a fact that you’re not pregnant.”

Maria thought about it. “That’s true. I just finished my period, and if you calculate how long it’s been since Michael and I had sex . . .”

“Don’t even bother with the math. Just drink.” Tess slid her glass across the table, and Maria took it. She grimaced at the bitter taste as she downed what was left of it. Beer didn’t even taste good. “Whoa, I can’t believe I used to get wasted every night. And . . . blugh, sleep with random guys.”

“You were a party animal.”

“It just seems like a different life.”

“I know,” Tess agreed. “Can you believe there was a time when I thought I’d marry Max?”

“Thank God you didn’t.” For two years Maria had worried that would happen.

“Think of the financial predicament I’d be in right now if I had.”

“Yeah. We probably never would’ve reconciled our friendship. Kyle would still be a virgin.”

Tess laughed. “He would, wouldn’t he?”

Maria nodded emphatically. Kyle owed a lot to alcohol. Without it, he never would’ve had sex.

“Everything works out the way it’s supposed to,” Tess said.

“Mmm-hmm. Cheers to that.” Maria raised her club soda and knocked it against Tess’s now empty glass.

“Yes!” Tess exclaimed, her eyes roaming the Cowboy Club. “Oh my god, look at Marty,” she said, pointing him out. He was running a mile a minute, micromanaging everything that was happening yet somehow managing to mingle with all the patrons at the same time.

“He’s such a dedicated little club-owner,” Tess said. “So focused on this place.”

“That’s ‘cause he doesn’t have a boyfriend to focus on.”

“Boyfriendless Marty. I still don’t see how such a thing is possible.”

“Yeah.” It was definitely strange. Marty had been dating boys since elementary school and dating them publicly since the seventh grade.

“I don’t get it. He’s a loveable guy,” Tess said. “Why would Francis leave him?”

Maria lowered her head and stared down at the club soda in her glass. She knew why.

****

“Hey, big brother,” Maria said when Marty walked in the front door. “Are you heading to the airport?”

Marty took off his scarf and gloves and set them down on the back of the couch. “Francis is,” he said. “I’m not.”

Maria frowned. “What do you mean?” As far as she knew, the plan had been for Marty to spend Christmas with Francis and his family this year.

“I’m not going back to Massachusetts,” he said. “Francis broke up with me.”

“What?” Maria struggled to stand up. Her bulging belly made it difficult.

“He said he still feels like we’re living in Santa Fe, even though our home’s in Boston,” Marty said, his eyes brimming with tears. “Because we’re always here.”

“Well, yeah, because you’re an uncle. I thought he understood that.”

“I thought he did, too.” Marty sighed and sat down on the arm of the couch. “I told him I wanted to move back here, even if that means we can’t get married. I wanna be near you and Miley and . . . whoever this next one’s gonna be. He just couldn’t accept that. So it’s over.”

Maria wasn’t even sure what to say. How could it just be over? Marty and Francis had been together even longer than she and Michael had. They loved each other. “Marty . . . I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I feel like this is all my fault.”

“Why?”

“Because I got pregnant.” She placed one hand atop her round stomach, feeling the baby kick. “Twice.” Marty had just said it himself: They were always in Santa Fe, and the only reason they were there was because of her and her family.

“No, nothing about this is your fault,” her brother assured her readily. “Francis is a poophead. I’m probably better off without him.”

Maria wanted to believe that. She really did. But she saw him fight to hold in his tears, and she knew this was hurting him far more than he let on.


****

“Maria?”

Maria snapped herself out of her thoughts. “Hmm? Sorry, I space off.”

“You okay?” Tess asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.” She cast a glance at Marty out of the corner of her eye, though, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty. If he ended up alone, she would never forgive herself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kyle stayed at the gallery late that night. Since Tess was out, there was nothing much to do at home. He figured he should get some work done. He had to rotate some of the paintings on display. It was an exhausting job, but he didn’t mind. That gallery was his pride and joy.

There was a knock on the door, so he hollered, “We’re closed!” But when he looked over his shoulder, he saw Liz standing outside. She waved at him, and he went to unlock the door and let her in.

“Hey,” he said. “What’re you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said. “It’s so late.”

“Yeah, well, Maria and Tess went out to a gay club, and as fun as that sounds . . . no thanks. And Michael’s takin ‘care of his kids, so I figured I’d stay late and get some work done.”

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah.” He stepped aside and she came in. He shut the door and locked it again, still not sure why she was there. His friendship with Liz had become increasingly estranged ever since they graduated high school. He had no problem with her, but they were very different people.

“You’ve done such a good job with this place,” Liz said, walking around the gallery.

“Thanks.” He got back up on his ladder and took down a painting of a forest.

“Who painted that?” Liz asked.

“Guy named Brandon. He’s good, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, very.”

“But for some reason his paintings aren’t selling, so I gotta move some of ‘em into the back room.” He sighed and stepped down off the ladder, leaning the painting against the wall. “That’s too bad.” The guy had real talent, but his gallery wasn’t just about talent. It was about business, too. “You wanna buy it?” he asked Liz.

“Um . . .” She trailed off.

“Oh. Shit, I forgot. Sorry.” It was so easy to think of Liz as someone who had an endless fountain of cash in her wallet, or at least her husband’s cash.

“That’s okay, Kyle.”

“No, it’s not. I should’ve asked how you are the minute you walked in. So . . . how are you?”

“I’m about as good as can be expected,” she answered honestly.

“Yeah? Well, if there’s anything Tess and I can do for you and Max . . . or for you, at least, let us know.”

“Oh, Tess has already helped me out. She’s giving me a raise.”

Kyle smiled. “She’s pretty cool like that.”

“Yeah, cool boss,” Liz agreed. “She’d make a pretty cool mom, too.”

Kyle nodded as suddenly everything about this little visit fell into place. “She sent you, didn’t she?”

“Kind of. But in all fairness, I offered. Before my life went to hell, that is.”

“Mmm-hmm. You realize this is a decision I have to make on my own, right?” He didn’t understand why everyone was trying to pressure him into it.

“Actually, it’s a decision you have to make with your wife,” Liz corrected. “You know where she stands on it; it’s driving her crazy not knowing where you stand.”

“That’s ‘cause I-I don’t know where I stand,” he stuttered. “I know I wanna be a dad, but I don’t know if I wanna be a dad right now.” He shrugged, picked up Brandon’s painting, and headed back to the storage room behind his and Michael’s offices. Liz followed him.

“Kyle, do you remember that play we had to do in the fifth grade?” she asked.

He set the painting down near the back wall and gave her a confused look. How had the conversation shifted from his future fatherhood to a fifth grade play?

“Remember, Ms. Meyer was the one who wrote it? She thought it was gonna win her a Tony Award or something.” She laughed. “It was awful, but you were so excited because you got the role you wanted.”

Kyle nodded slowly, understanding where she was going with this now. “Papa.”

“That’s right, Papa. No one else even auditioned for the part. They all wanted to play the teenagers and the kids, but you wanted to play the dad. And if you hadn’t had that lisp, you would’ve been the breakout star.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted from side to side nervously. “So?”

“So . . . you chose to be the dad,” she said, “and you were good at it.”

Yeah, he thought, I was. But that was a play. This was real life.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Macy tried to push her purple triangle-shaped block into the blue square-shaped slot, and Michael had to chuckle at the look of concentration and frustration on her face.

“No, Macy, you’re doing it wrong,” Miley said, reaching over to take the block from her.

Macy started to cry.

“Just let her figure it out,” Michael said, handing the block back to her. “She’ll get it.”

With the purple triangle back in hand, Macy stopped crying and got back to work.

“Why does she like blocks so much?” Miley asked.

“‘Cause she’s a baby; that’s what babies like. You liked blocks when you were her age. Now it’s . . .” He picked up the blondest Barbie Miley owned and shook his head. “This.” He really hoped Miley didn’t grow up thinking she had to look like that.

“I like Barbies,” she chirped, snatching it away from him.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“And Hannah Montana.”

“Yep.” Michael glanced up at the living room window and looked outside. It was dark. He couldn’t see much of anything out there, but for some reason, the hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up. All of a sudden, he felt as though he were being watched.

“Hey, why don’t you play peek-a-boo with her?” he suggested, standing up.

“Okay.” Miley lay down flat on her stomach and covered up her face, causing Macy to set her blocks aside and stare at her curiously.

Michael walked over to the window while his kids played on the living room floor and looked outside across the street. His neighbors were having dinner in their kitchen. They looked out their window and saw him and waved. He waved back at them, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He was being paranoid. Nobody was watching him. Still, he pulled the curtains closed just in case.

When he turned back to his daughters, Macy was giggling at Miley. “Hey, look,” he said. “You made her laugh.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel stayed crouched in the bushes beneath the front room window until she was sure that Michael was gone. Her chest heaved with every breath she took. That had been a close call. He’d almost seen her there. Then what would she have done? She wasn’t even supposed to have been there because of the restraining order.

“What am I doing?” she whispered, looking around. She was hiding in the bushes like a crazy person. This was what her life had done to her. She hadn’t always been like this.

She waited until the neighbors across the street were sufficiently distracted by the food in front of them, then crawled out of the bushes and ran through the yard and down the sidewalk. It was such a white picket fence neighborhood, so different from where she lived. She could have been the one to live at 522 Alvarado Street. She would have if things had just gone a little differently.

She rounded the corner and climbed back into her car. She dialed Billy’s cell phone number as she drove off, wishing he would pick up the phone. Sex with Lorenzo had been good enough, but sex with Billy was her cure-all pill.

Billy . . .” she wined, waiting for him to pick up, but he never did.

“Dammit!” She threw her cell phone out the window, and it shattered on the pavement.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A surprising number of people clapped for Billy once he finished his set that night at The Igloo, a bar located near some of Colorado’s most notorious ski slopes. He’d never seen a group of people who were so enthusiastic about his music before. The last song seemed to have had a real effect. For a struggling musician like himself, it was encouraging.

“Thank you,” he said. “You guys have been . . . adequate.” He still wanted more. He wasn’t going to be satisfied until that last song got a standing ovation. That was what it deserved.

He was backstage packing up his guitar when two female bartenders dressed in furry midriffs and jeans slipped back and complimented him.

“Great set,” the blonde one said.

“Thanks.” He smiled at her. She looked a little like Isabel, only nicer.

“You wanna hang out after our shifts are over?” the brunette asked. She had a rack from here to Texas, just like Isabel did.

He sighed. His dick definitely wanted to hang out with them, but his mind and his heart were only thinking about one girl, the same one who had occupied his thoughts for an entire year now. “I can’t,” he said.

They frowned. “That’s too bad,” the blonde said, and she and her friend headed back out to the bar.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. He closed his guitar case and slung it over his shoulder as he followed the girls out. He was debating whether or not to get a drink and then leave or to just leave right now. His phone was vibrating like crazy in his pocket, which probably meant that Isabel had been trying to call him. The sooner he got back to his hotel room, the sooner they could have phone sex.

“Mr. Darden?”

He turned around when he felt a hand on his arm. A guy who didn’t look much older than him had stopped him. He was wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and sunglasses even though he was indoors.

“Hi, Carl McNair,” the man said, introducing himself with a handshake. “Jukebox Records.”

“Records?” Billy echoed. This guy was from a record label?

“I heard your whole set, and I gotta say, I’m impressed. How on earth are you still unsigned?”

Billy chuckled. Most of the time people asked him how he was ever going to get signed. “Ah, it just hasn’t happened yet.” This was a nice change of pace.

“That last song in particular . . . I could hear that on the radio.”

Billy smiled. “Yeah, I wrote it about my girlfriend.” Isabel probably would have been mad if she’d heard him call her that, but that was technically what she was. “She’s . . . well, crazy, but . . .”

“The best ones always are.” Carl led him towards the bar where the two girls who had just been flirting with him had resumed working. “A beer for my friend,” Carl told the brunette.

She grinned and Billy and turned her back to pour him one.

“On me,” Carl said.

“Thanks.”

Once they each had a beer in their hands, Carl cut straight to business. “Are you interested in signing with a record label, Billy?” he asked. “Because you know that’s your only hope of getting your music out there.”

Hell yeah, I’m interested, Billy thought, but he tried to play it cool. “You offering?”

“I guess I am.” Carl grinned.

Inside, Billy was doing back flips, but he knew enough about the industry to proceed with caution. “I ain’t ever heard of your label.”

“Well, it’s new,” Carl admitted. “I was working for Universal for awhile, but I formed Jukebox so I could hire underground artists like you.”

“Yeah? Who else you signed?”

“Matt Christopherson, guitarist from Ohio. He’s gonna be huge. You’ll see.”

Billy was skeptical. “I don’t know . . .” On the one hand, this was the only record deal he’d ever been offered in his life. On the other hand, maybe something better would come along now that his music didn’t suck so badly.

“Billy, as immense as your musical talent is, the chances of you getting an offer from an established label are slim to none. And even if you did, they’d shove you into the corporate machine and you’d end up being Justin Timberlake 2.0. If you sign with me, you sign with someone who still has connections to the major labels but, unlike them, won’t force you to compromise the integrity of your music for the sake of sales. Let me assure you, that promise in this industry is huge.”

Just as Carl had been impressed by Billy’s music, Billy couldn’t deny being impressed by Carl’s offer. “Sounds . . . pretty good.”

“Pretty great, huh? Yeah, I’ve got big plans for you, kid. You’re gonna take L.A. by storm.”

“L.A.?” Billy echoed. Was that where they were going to record a demo?

Carl grinned. “You’ll like it there. Lots of palm trees and beautiful women.”

“I live in Santa Fe,” Billy pointed out.

Carl shrugged. “Upgrade. L.A.’s a great city. You’ll fit right in.”

Billy frowned. “You want me to move there?”

Carl nodded. “ASAP. Nobody makes music in New Mexico.”

I do, Billy thought. He made music because of Isabel. “You want me to move there.”

“Yeah.” Carl started to look a little impatient. “That’s not a problem for you, is it?”

It was. It was a huge problem.









TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
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April
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Part 25

Post by April »

Ellie:
LMAO! Go Isabel. Nothing says I hate you so MUCH like a catfight involving my least favorite person - Liz.
:lol: I knew you'd enjoy that.
I don't like sad Marty. I want fun, crazy with the antics Marty back. This Marty ... is a pale imitation
I know. Poor Marty. :(
God, Wackabel at it ... again! Seriously, can you guarantee that she at least seeks some form of help for her issues or at least confronts them?
I can't guarantee that. :oops:
Why do I get the feeling that Billy will sign and try to convince Isabel to leave everything behind and run off with him?
Well, he might. He's definitely got a big decision to make, and unfortunately, not a whole lot of brain capacity to make it.
Or, is that premature of me? Did they in fact get their test results back?
Yes! :lol: Be relieved.

Leila:
He has the chance to change his life. from drug addicted loser to drug addicted signed musician.
Too bad he's addicted to drugs, because being a signed musician would actually make him kind of cool.
Good for the girls that their results are good for them. I was a bit worried but you didn't disappoint us. You're not that cruel.
Once in awhile, I'm nice like that.

Christina:
Yay, I'm finally starting to like Liz again.
Good! We'll see how long that lasts. :oops:
I think it was pretty stupid on Max's part to spend so much on the wedding when he knew what was happening.
Yes, it was. He figured he'd might as well go out with one last hurrah, and unfortunately even the wedding didn't go all that well.
I am so looking forward to seeing what will happen with Max. I mean, Liz has only been in the rich lifestyle for a few years and she's having a hard time picturing what it will be like. I can only imagine how life-altering this will be for Max, and I'm itching to see how he'll change. (And I'm still looking forward to seeing what's up with the little girl and him in the trailers, April!)
Oh, yes, the little girl. BIG storyline.
As for Alex... I didn't like him so much with the way he reacted to getting fired. I thought he would be more understanding, considering he was in Max's position before (well, not sole owner, but high up in his father's company) and lost everything from it.
Maybe that's the reason why he got so mad, because it happened to him once and all of a sudden it was happening again.
Oh, and my vote is for Psychobel. It sums her up best.
You were the one who came up with that nickname, right? Or did I dream that?

Novy:
Poor Marty. That's why they broke up? Gosh. I sure hope he finds someone. He's a good guy. But I wonder if it was something else too.
They broke up for the reasons given in the last part, nothing more. Which is really sucky, because all Marty was doing was being a devoted brother and uncle.
When Liz went to talk to Kyle it made me have an idea, I wonder if Kyle and Michael would offer Max a job. lol Stranger things have happen.
:lol: I think this would just be too strange, though. They would never given him a job, espeically knowing what he did to Maria.
Does Friday's fun include Michael and Maria finally having sex? lol I sure hope so.
You perv. :P Not quite yet, but you won't have to wait much longer.

BB:
If Billy goes he might just take the last shred of Isabel's sanity with him.
Definitely! :?
While Billy is having doubts about leaving Isabel now, I wonder will finding out she bumped uglies with Lorenzo make him change his mind.
It might piss him off a bit, but I don't think it'd be enough to change his mind.
Thank God Maria and Tess got clear results from their mammograms but it still doesn't answer the 'what happens to Tess' question.
I guess you'll have to read and find out. ;)

Rodney:
Here's what I think......Ohh Billy Boy is going to take the deal and move to LA which is just going to drive Isabel even more nutty.
It's possible. She's definitely been losing it a bit more and more each day since he's been gone.
Max needs to go to jail and meet Roscoe the weight lifter as his cell mate and get to know what being raped feels like.
Well, that was graphic. Roscoe, huh? :lol:

dreambeliever:
Okay.....Isabel has a one way ticket on the crazy train! She is slowly losing her grip on life...she is an interesting character in this fic, Michael and Billy in thier own ways keep her...well not really sane, but passable.
Passable, huh? She's definitely a lot more unhinged when Billy's gone.
I liked this last update in a way it gave us a some interesting insight to a few of the characters.
And there's always more insight to give. There is going to be a chapter way down the road that offers up some HUGE Isabel insight. And that's all I'll say about that. ;)

lilah:
Tess is really going about this the wrong way.
For sure. It seems like, for some reason, Tess and Kyle are just not able to have an open, honest conversation about this issue, which is exactly what they need to do. They're both just being very stubborn right now.
Love the scenes with Michael and the girls, I can imagine the disgusted look on his face when he picked up the darn Barbie doll lol
:lol: I've never figured out why my chest isn't as big as Barbies, why my waist isn't as small, why my legs aren't as long . . . :roll:


Thanks for the feedback!








Part 25








Michael let himself into Tess and Kyle’s house and inhaled the heavenly aroma of food. Kyle sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper while Tess stood at the counter, watching something cook in the microwave.

“Mmm, do I smell leftovers?” he said.

“Yeah, meatloaf. We had some last night,” Tess replied before shooting a pointed look at Kyle. “And that’s all we had.”

Kyle kept his eyes locked on the newspaper and hunkered down in his seat.

Tess took the meatloaf out of the microwave when it was done and held out the plate to Michael. “You want some?”

“No, I already ate.”

She shrugged and cut the meatloaf into two halves, on two separate plates. She set one down in front of Kyle and stood at the counter eating hers. It didn’t seem like much of a breakfast food, but neither one of them seemed to care.

Michael stuffed his hands in his pockets and carefully approached the question he’d stopped by to ask. “So listen, I was wondering if you guys would maybe be interested in . . .”

“Having a sleepover with Miley and Macy tonight?” Tess filled in. “Of course!”

The excited gleam in her eyes was almost blinding. Michael took a step back and said to Kyle, “She’s good.”

Kyle grinned at him. “You and Maria are gonna do the old rumpy-pumpy, huh?”

“Yes, thank you, Kyle, for stating the obvious.”

His friend gave him a thumbs-up.

“I think it’s good that you and Maria are finally making sex a priority,” Tess said. “It’d be nice if every couple did that.” Again, she looked at Kyle. He just smiled innocently and ate his breakfast.

“Yeah, well, thanks for doing that for us,” Michael said, turning to leave. There was something else he had to ask about, though, so he turned back around and said, “Also, Tess, I was wondering if you might happen to have a . . . a pink feather boa I could borrow?” He cringed as he said the words.

“A pink—what do you need a pink feather boa for?”

“Just . . . a thing.” He really didn’t want to go into detail. “A stupid thing. Nothing, really.”

She stared at him in confusion.

“Artwork,” he finally outright lied.

“Artwork.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna-I’m gonna put the feathers on the . . .” He let his sentence die. “Look, do you have one?”

“Uh, yeah, actually, I do. I wore it as part of a Halloween costume once.”

He smiled hopefully. Sounded like the exact thing he needed.

“I’ll go look for it.”

“Thanks.” He breathed a sigh of relief once she went downstairs. Got that out of the way.

“Pink feather boa, huh?” Kyle said contemplatively. “Kinky.”

Michael rolled his eyes. His plans for that boa weren’t so much kinky as they were humiliating.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Artwork. Yeah, right, Tess thought as she rummaged through the storage bins downstairs for the pink boa. She’d worn it as part of her stripper Halloween costume back in the eleventh grade. She wasn’t even sure if she still had it. A lot of her items had been lost in the move from her apartment to Kyle’s apartment, and then from Kyle’s apartment to their house. One thing she was sure of, though, was that Michael had bigger ideas for the boa than he was letting on, probably sexy ideas. Why he needed a boa when he and Maria owned handcuffs was a mystery. All Tess could figure was that maybe they were trying to spice it up. Maybe a little role-play. That was always fun.

She had unpacked half of the first storage bin when she came across something from her and Kyle’s honeymoon. Mickey Mouse ears from Disney World. One pair was Kyle’s, and one was hers. Hers were marked by a short white veil. Lots of newlyweds who honeymooned in Florida wore them. She smiled fondly as the memories of that trip came back to her.

****

“Come on, Kyle, we have to go on Peter Pan.” She grabbed her husband’s hand and pulled him through the throngs of tourist walking through the Fantasyland area of the Magic Kingdom theme park. It was mid-afternoon, and it was sweltering. There were strollers everywhere, endlessly long lines, and over-excited dads with navigation maps in their hands. It was a hectic, crowded place, but it was wonderful.

“It’s a kiddie ride,” Kyle protested, dragging his feet.

“It’s a Disney classic,” she pointed out, readjusting the Mickey Mouse ears on her head. They had already gone on the Snow White ride and the Winnie the Pooh ride and even the Dumbo ride. This was next.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, giving in the way he always did. They skipped towards the end of the line, and he asked, “You wanna get a Fast Pass or sweat this wait out?”

“I’m up for some sweating.”

“You always are.”

“Mmm.” She lifted her hair up off the back of her neck and turned her back towards him. “Fan me?” she asked.

He took their spray-capable fan out of the side-holder of his fanny pack and turned it on. She smiled contentedly when the breeze hit her neck. “Are we going to Frontierland next?”

“Yep. Gotta ride Splash Mountain.”

“Splash Mountain, huh?” She secured her hair in a ponytail and turned back around to face him. “That sounds potentially liquidy.”

“Yeah, it’ll get you wet. Just like I do.” He grinned and shut the fan off.

“Well, then, I’ll wear my rain poncho,” she decided.

“In ninety-five degree weather?”

“Uh, for the sake of beauty, yes. My hair will get super curly if it’s wet. The humidity’s wreaking enough havoc on it as it is.”

He smiled at her and tucked a loose side strand behind her ear as the line moved forward ever so slightly.

“This is a good honeymoon,” she said, placing her hands on his chest as she leaned against him. “I think Disney World really is the happiest place on earth.”

“Yeah? Then that works out well, ‘cause I’m the happiest guy.”

“Aw . . .” He never ceased to make her heart pitter patter. “And I’m the happiest girl,” she assured him, “because I have the best husband in the entire world.” She looped her arms around his neck and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him. She felt his hands drop down to her waist, and for a minute, she forgot they were surrounded by hundreds of other people. She wanted to keep kissing him and do more than kissing, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a little boy staring at them. “Children watching!” she shrieked, pushing him away. “Children watching!”


****

Tess stared down at the silly Mickey Mouse ears in her hand. At the end of the honeymoon, she and Kyle had promised that they would go back someday and that they’d take their children with them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jimmy was a good personal assistant. He kept assisting Max right up until the very end. Max had a huge office to clear out and very few employees left to help him, so he and Jimmy worked on it together. Neither of them said much. Jimmy went downstairs and got them both some chips from the vending machine, and when he came back up, he told Max that Alex was cleaning out his cubicle. Max excused himself and went to see his brother-in-law.

He walked up behind Alex, watching him haphazardly dump everything into a single cardboard box. One of the last things left on his desk was a portrait of himself, Isabel, and Garret taken last Christmas. Isabel liked to send out Christmas letters to family members that made it sound like her life was a lot better than it really was, and they’d taken that picture to accompany the letters. It was probably one of the few times they’d actually looked like a family.

“That’s a good picture,” Max said.

Alex snorted. “Fake smiles, stiff poses. Yeah, it’s real good.” He tossed the picture into the box, cracking the glass.

Max stood beside Alex, looking around. Just a few months ago, he’d walked through that office every day to a chorus of “Good morning, Mr. Evans,” from all the busy employees. Now it was like a ghost town. “It’s so empty around here,” he remarked, wondering what the building would be used for once his offices cleared out. He already knew the hotels themselves were going to remain hotels, only they would probably be Hilton hotels now. “I’m not used to it.”

“Save the small-talk, Max,” Alex snapped. “We’re not best friends anymore.”

“Hey, I’m cleaning out my office today, too,” Max reminded him. “This isn’t easy on me, either.”

“I never got an office. I got a cubicle,” Alex grumbled, reaching down into his bottom desk drawer to pull out a bottle of whiskey.

Max felt like taking the bottle away from him, but he had no right. “I don’t understand why it has to be like this,” he said.

“Cause it’s always been like this.” Alex unscrewed the lid to the bottle and took a drink. “My entire life, nothing’s ever gone the way it’s supposed to. Nothing works out. Everything I’ve ever wanted is everything I’ll never have.”

He sounded so depressed, and that wasn’t exactly making Max feel any less depressed. “You have a son,” he pointed out. “You have a place to live. That’s more than I have.”

“But you don’t have a wife like Isabel.” Alex chugged down a good fourth of the bottle and smiled angrily. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up in the morning and go to bed at night knowing she loves someone else?” He screwed the lid back onto the bottle and set it down inside the box with the rest of his supplies. “Whenever I look into her eyes, all I see is disappointment.”

Max lowered his head. He’d already started to see disappointment when Liz looked at him.

“So let me feel sorry for myself,” Alex said, placing the lid on the box, “and leave me the hell alone.”

Max wasn’t about to do that. Not completely at least. Ever since Alex had come to town, he’d felt responsible for him, almost as though he had to protect him from Isabel. He sure as hell hadn’t done a very good job of it so far.

“Here,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He took out his wallet and scribbled out a check for two-thousand dollars. It would have seemed like pocket change to him at one time, but now, it was a lot of money. “It’s next month’s pay,” he said, handing his friend the check. “It’s all I can afford.”

Alex took one look at the check and handed it back to him. “Your money can’t help me any more than it can help you.” He picked up his box and carried it off. Max watched him disappear down the stairwell and resisted the urge to crumple the check up in his hand. Even if Alex wouldn’t take the money, he knew someone who would.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel dropped a stack of job application forms onto her husband’s lap. He awoke from his nap and sat up on the couch, staring at them questioningly.

“I filled them all out for you,” she informed him. “All you have to do is schedule the interviews.” Knowing Alex, he’d probably screw that part of the job application process up, though, so she’d have to coach him beforehand. “I made my handwriting sloppy to look like yours,” she said. “Pretty good, huh?”

He sorted through the applications, frowning. “Best Buy. Gateway Retirement Home. Pizza Hut? These sound like crappy jobs.”

She shrugged. “The pay’s alright. At the first two, at least.” Alex couldn’t be too picky. He had to take what he could get and work his way up from there. “Pizza Hut’s pretty much your last resort.”

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be popcorn vendor?” He held up the application for that job with a look of horror on his face.

“Hmm, maybe.” Isabel went into the kitchen and picked up a notebook off the kitchen table. “I’ve also prepared this script for you for the inevitable tough question,” she said, tearing out the sheet of paper she had written upon. She handed it to him and instructed, “Memorize it.”

Alex laughed bitterly as he read the question aloud. “Why have you worked for two disgraced companies over the past five years?”

She nodded. It would get asked, no doubt about that. “Keep reading.”

Alex sighed heavily. “Well, sir . . . or ma’am . . . I made the mistake of trusting two family members, my father and my brother-in-law, with my career. In the end, they proved unreliable and their irresponsibility cost me dearly. But in a way, I should be thanking them. If their companies hadn’t gone bankrupt, I’d have never embarked on this exciting new chapter of my life, one I hope to spend working with . . . fill in the blank here.” He made a face. “That’s so cheesy.”

“That’s so what employers like.”

As if on cue, Max walked through the front door. “Just make sure you don’t have a weak handshake,” he said. “That’s the kiss of death.”

Alex remained on the couch, glaring at him. After a moment, he held out his hand for a handshake. Max moved forward to oblige, and Alex pulled down hard on his hand.

“Ow,” Max swore.

Alex got up off the couch and stormed upstairs.

“He hates me,” Max said simply.

“Yeah,” Isabel agreed. “I love that.” She smirked and headed into the kitchen. She reached up on top the refrigerator and grabbed the bag of assorted Halloween candy she’d bought for Garret. She and Alex probably weren’t going to take him trick-or-treating, so they were just going to give him that bag of candy instead. She opened the bag and took out a miniature Snickers. Garret wouldn’t miss one piece of candy.

“Where’s the kid?” Max asked.

“He’s upstairs sleeping,” she replied, biting into the Snickers. “Something tells me he’s gonna love you a whole lot less now that you can’t afford to take him places and buy him things.”

“Garret’s not as obsessed with money as you are, Isabel.”

“Give him time.” She popped the rest of the Snickers into her mouth and set the candy back atop the refrigerator.

“I’m having a yard sale,” Max announced suddenly. “You should come.”

“More of your leftovers?” She grunted. “No thanks.”

“Well, I thought I’d be nice and invite you.” He shrugged.

“See, that’s your problem: You’re still living under the delusion that you could ever be nice.”

“I can be,” Max insisted, reaching into his pocket. He took out a check and handed it to Isabel. “Here. Alex won’t take it, but I know you will. He’s too stubborn.”

Isabel stared at the money in her hand. Two-thousand dollars. “No, he’s too stupid,” she corrected. Rule number one of life was never to turn down free money regardless of how insubstantial it was. “This is hardly anything,” she said, holding onto the check greedily.

“It’s all I can afford right now. Try being grateful for a change.”

“Grateful?” she shrieked. Even after all these years, this guy had no idea how much he and his beloved daddy had messed her up. “You ruined my life.”

“No, you ruined mine.”

They each glared at each other as Alex’s voice rang out from upstairs. “Actually, you both ruined my life, but who the hell cares?”

Isabel could tell he was getting drunk just by the sound of his voice, that sound of self-loathing and self-pitying and despair.

“Spend that money on Garret,” Max told her as he turned to leave.

Screw that, she thought, folding the check and running her fingernail along the crease. I’m gonna buy myself a new cell phone.

“Oh, and by the way . . .” Max turned back around and lowered his voice. “Tell Billy I said hi.”

Isabel bristled, unable to conceal the panic that swept her face. How did Max know about Billy? He wasn’t supposed to know. No one was supposed to know. She hoped Alex hadn’t heard.

He smirked and walked out of the house. Maybe he wasn’t such an idiot after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria talked to Tess on the phone while driving home from the grocery store that evening and learned about her fiancé’s recent fashion choices. “A boa?” she barked. “What the hell does Michael need a boa for?”

“I don’t know, but he was, like, adamant about it,” Tess replied. “Do you think he’s cross-dressing?”

Maria laughed. “Not likely. He probably just wants to tie me up with it. Although I don’t think that’s gonna be strong enough.” She tried to picture it. Nope, no way was a boa going to restrain her while he was on top of her. “Look, I’m almost home,” she said as she turned the corner onto Alvarado street. “I’ll get the full story before I bring the girls over.”

“Later.” Tess hung up the phone, and Maria shoved her phone back in her purse as she pulled into her driveway. It was good to be home.

“Michael?” she called when she walked in the front door, precariously balancing an armful of grocery sacks. “Miley?”

Miley’s face popped up behind the back of the couch. “Hi, Mama,” she chirped, standing up on the cushions. She started to bounce up and down.

“Don’t jump on the furniture,” Maria told her, carrying the groceries into the kitchen. She set them down on the kitchen table and got to work unpacking right away. The sooner she got those groceries put away, the sooner she could pack up an overnight bag for Miley and Macy and get them over to Tess and Kyle’s for the night. And then she and Michael could have their fun time. “Where’s your dad?” she asked her eldest daughter.

Miley hopped down off the couch and ran into the kitchen. “Upstairs.”

I hope he’s not getting started without me, Maria thought.

Miley climbed up onto one of the kitchen chairs and started to search through the smallest grocery sack.

“Are you looking for Fruit Roll-Ups?” Maria asked.

She nodded.

Maria smiled and took out a box of the junk food, tossing it to Miley. “Don’t spoil your dinner.”

“I won’t,” she promised, practically tearing the box in half in her quest to get to one of her favorite foods.

“Hey, Michael?” Maria abandoned the groceries downstairs for a moment and headed upstairs. “I lost all those coupons, so I kind of spent a lot at the store,” she informed him as she traipsed down the hall. “I hope you don’t . . .” When she pushed open the door to her bedroom, she trailed off abruptly. “Dress up like a woman?” There was Michael, love of her life, standing in front of their full-length mirror checking out his reflection. His feet were crammed into a pair of her black high heels, Tess’s pink feather boa was draped around his neck, and he was wearing a long, blonde wig complete with bangs.

“Maria!” he shrieked, whirling around.

She stared at him in horror, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“No, I’m not . . . this isn’t what it looks like,” he assured her.

“Oh my god!” She ran back downstairs in a fit of hysterics.

“Maria!” he called, running after her.

She ran straight out the front door and across the front yard to Tess and Kyle’s house. “Tess!” she yelled. “Tess!” She barged right in the front door. “You were right! You were right!”

Tess came scurrying downstairs. “Maria, what’s wrong?”

“You were right, Tess,” she repeated. “He’s messed up.”

“Who?”

“Michael!” She sniffled. All along she’d thought he was the perfect guy, but who knew how long he’d been hiding this creepy secret.

Kyle slipped in the back sliding door and asked, “What about Michael?”

Before Maria could tell them what she’d seen, Michael came in the front door, Miley at his side. He was carrying Macy and still dressed exactly the way Maria had found him.

“Oh . . . wow,” Kyle said, looking him up and down. “You think you know a guy.”

“What’s happening?” Miley asked. She looked up at her father and seemed to realize for the first time that it was him and not Maria. “Daddy?” She giggled. “You look like Hannah Montana.”

“Oh my god, it just keeps getting worse!” Maria wailed dramatically. “It’s not just any woman; it’s that twat Hannah Montana.” She buried her face in Tess’s shoulder and whimpered, “Hold me.”

“There, there.” Tess stroked her hair. “This is why you needed my boa?” she asked Michael.

“It isn’t what it looks like,” he reassured them emphatically.

“All these years of him being a feminist finally make sense,” Kyle mumbled.

“Why does this happen to me?” Maria cried.

“You guys, I’m not cross-dressing,” he promised.

Miley made a confused face. “What’s--”

“Don’t ask,” he cut in. “Look, I’m doing a . . . a thing. I was trying to keep it a secret. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Kyle chuckled. “Oh, it’s surprising.”

He handed Macy to Tess and reached atop his head to remove his blonde wig. “I entered a contest,” he muttered. “For dads.”

Maria finally lifted her head from Tess’s soothing embrace, hoping and praying that there was a logical explanation behind all this. “And?”

He licked his lips and stepped out of the high heels. They’d left red marks on his feet where they’d dug in. “Remember when you won that car from the KROZ radio station?”

She smiled fondly at that mention. “I loved that car. It had spacious backseats.” In fact, it was quite possible that Miley had been conceived there.

“Well, I figured we had a good track record with those competitions, so I entered another one,” he explained.

“Where you have to dress like a woman?” Tess asked.

“Yes. And you race. You run a race. Me against the other dads.”

Maria felt the fear start to dissipate from her body. “What do you get if you win?”

He sighed heavily and grumbled, “Miley Cyrus concert tickets.”

“Miley Cyrus?” Miley exclaimed. “Cool!” She ran into the living room and started to sing and dance to the Hannah Montana theme song. “You get the best of both worlds!”

“You’re doing this for her?” Maria asked, suddenly finding his cross-dressing so endearing.

“Yeah.”

Miley threw her arms in the air and kept singing. “Chill it out, take it slow, then you rock out the show!”

“I figured it’d make a good birthday present if I win,” he explained.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Although that’ll really put the stuffed animals I bought her to shame.”

“She’ll love the stuffed animals,” he assured her.

“Michael,” Tess jumped in, “that’s so sweet of you. You’re such a good dad.”

“It’s embarrassing.” He unwrapped the boa from around his neck. “Look at me.”

Maria stepped towards him, laughing a little. “Well . . . yeah. But you’re doing it for the sake of fatherhood, so that makes it okay.” She wrapped her arms around his midsection and hugged him.

“I love you, Daddy!” Miley chirped, running over to hug his leg.

“Well, I haven’t won yet,” he pointed out.

“But you’re gonna.” She sounded so sure.

“When’s the race?” Maria asked, tilting her head back to gaze up at him.

“Tomorrow.”

She smiled. “Well, we are all gonna be there to cheer on our favorite boy . . . I mean, girl.”

Tess and Kyle both laughed, and Miley ran into the living room to sing the Hannah Montana theme song again.








TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
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April
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Part 26

Post by April »

Okay, I'm actually getting this update out a little more on time than I thought I would in my sleepless state. This Hills marathon is STILL on, though, and I'm STILL watching. It's ridiculous.

Ellie:
Blood: The Last Vampire? Sounds like an Academy Award winner for sure. :lol:
It's a shame now to read those Kyle/Tess flashbacks. They are no longer those carefree people like they were.
I know. :( It's a little sad.
He doesn't seem to realize or care anymore that what he does will effect Garret.
He's in mope mode. All he cares about is moping.
Dare I say ... she's a worse parent than Philip Evans ever was. How about them apples? Can someone point that out to her? I'd love to see her reaction to that piece of knowledge.
Interesting point. She would freak the fuck out if somebody pointed that out to her. :lol:
Why can't Kyle see this for himself, the positive side of being father instead of always seeing the negative?
Maybe he will start to see the positive side of it.
I'm still waiting on that update
I won't keep you waiting for long. ;)

BB:
I think I say something along these lines everytime but... Michael is completely and utterly perfect in every single way and I love him so much. Please can we clone him? One for everybody in the audience?
:lol: Okay, one for everybody except Rod.
Alex is a total and utter jerk. I love the irony of him blaming Max for all his troubles as he downs a bottle of whiskey. Some people are truely blind to reality.
Definitely. He's always blaming Max and Isabel when he should be blaming himself.
So? Rumpy pumpy in the next part?
Maybe . . . :P

Novy:
Max knows about Billy. Intriguing. I wonder what or if anything else he'll do with that information. Alex must know something. He can't be that clueless.
Alex is blind to a lot of things in life, namely his own bad behavior, but he's definitely not as blind to Isabel's.
Isabel prides herself on being a strong woman but she has no problem depending on these men to provide for her. She looks at it as them working for her benefit. What a contradiction?
Yes, there are a lot of things about Isabel that are contradictory and complicated, and this is probably one of the biggest examples of it.
I'm just a huge mommy fan and it saddens me that not everyone of them would be willing to put everything on the line for their kids. But that's life for you. Everyone is different. But it really should be a mommy code of conduct.
And there should be a daddy code of conduct along with it that Alex should learn to adhere to.

lilah:
I'm sorry, I know Alex is upset and has every right to be considering the circumstances, but grow the hell up. He is throwing an alcoholic temper tantrum. It's downright pathetic.
I agree. If he quit drinking, I think he would be a whole lot less pathetic. If only quitting were simple.
Huh, I guess he and Isabel are more alike than they think. The world is just conspiring against them
Yep, they're not so different after all. The sad thing is, if they both just put in a little effort towards their marriage, they might be able to improve it. But they're both unwilling to try. :(

Rodney:
Isabel is not only crazy she's starting to get up into Mommy Dearest range! I expect her to shout out "NO WIRE HANGERS!!" any second now.
Okay, you're going to have to explain this one to me, because I never saw Mommy Dearest.
Well maybe not THIS Tess.For I agree she's acting very childish here.
The person who really wants a child is acting like a child. We'll see if that changes.

Leila:
I just hope Michael and Maria don't plan to spice up their sex live with roleplays where Michael is the naughty girl.
Oh, girl, I just had some disturbing mental images. :lol:
I'm kind of getting fed up with Tess and her baby wish.
You're not the only one.
Oh Max, he was to do amends but he forgot that he lied and messed everything up. I still don't feel sorry for him and I can't see how he's going to support himself without his money. He's helpless.
Max is going to have a whole host of problems to face and no more money to fight his battles. :?


Thanks for the feedback.


Music day: "Zen Brain" by Nada Surf, which is probably a top 3 Nada Surf song for me. Click on 8) when you see it if you would like to listen.

Enjoy this part.










Part 26








The next day, Maria held up the video camera, focusing it on Michael as he drove them to the radio station, where the race was being held.

“Here we are on Michael’s big day,” she narrated.

“Let’s not call it that.”

She played around with the zoom button for a moment, first zooming all the way in, then all the way back out. “Today he’s dressing up like a woman.”

“Not by choice,” he reminded her.

“I thought we agreed you would wear lipstick.” She frowned as she surveyed his lips. “Michael, where’s your lipstick?”

“It’s there,” he lied. “You can’t see it. It’s this clear stuff.”

“I don’t believe you.” She turned the camera off, set it down on the dashboard, and fished around in her purse for a tube of pink lipstick. “Come here.”

“Maria!” He tried to jerk away, but there was only so much movement he could make while driving. “I’m gonna crash the car.”

She smeared the lipstick across his lips, thoroughly enjoying all this teasing.

“They should make you wear a dress,” Miley joined in from the backseat.

“Ha!” Maria laughed. That would have been genius.

“That’s where I draw the line,” Michael said as he drove into the parking lot behind the radio station. There was quite a crowd gathered, lots of grown men looking ridiculous in their wigs and heels and pink feather boas.

“Now that I know you’re doing this for your daughter and not going through a gender crisis, I’m actually really looking forward to it,” Maria said. “Because it’s a win-win situation. Even if you lose, we all still win because we get to see you dressed up like a girl.”

He parked the car in an empty space and just shook his head. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

“Nope.”

They got Miley and Macy out of their car seats and Macy situated in her stroller, and Michael went to sign in. Maria got a good spot on the sidelines and surveyed the competition. Most of the dads in this race were . . . huge. Some of them looked beefy and muscular, like they’d eaten steroid sandwiches for breakfast, while others were just plain fat. They were all about twice Michael’s size. A few of them were lifting seventy-five pound barbells at the starting line.

When Michael came to stand beside her, he had a look of fear on his face. “Oh god, help me,” he whimpered as he looked over his competition.

“Some of these guys look really . . . tough,” Maria said, censoring herself. What she really wanted to say was that they looked like they could kill him, but that would only freak him out even more.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, bending down to take off his shoes. Maria handed him the high heels, and he somehow managed to squeeze his feet into them. Didn’t look comfy, though. He was just about to put on his wig when one of the other competitors approached him.

“Hey, you’re new,” the fellow father said.

“Uh, yeah.” Michael recoiled a bit. They were the same height, but the width factor was really intimidating. “Is this like a club or something?”

The man laughed. “You could say that. Most of us have been in this competition for the past three years now. But the defending champ’s out this year—his daughter’s into Demi Lovato now. So that means the rest of us actually stand a chance. I’m Bubba, by the way.” He extended his hand in greeting.

Maria held her hand over her mouth to suppress her giggles. The traditional big man had the traditional big name.

“Bubba.” Michael tried to shake his hand, but Bubba gave him a shoulder bump instead. Michael stumbled backward slightly, trying to laugh it off. “I’m Michael.”

“Men!” Bubba roared, turning to address all the other dads in the race. “Michael!”

They pumped their fists in the air and started chanting, “Michael! Michael! Michael!”

Maria laughed. These guys were like cavemen.

“How long you been training, Michael?” Bubba asked.

“Uh, training?” he echoed.

“Yeah, I’ve been training for this day since January.”

Maria’s eyes bulged. People really took this race that seriously?

“Me, too,” Michael lied outright.

“Well, best of luck to you, man.” Bubba gave him another shoulder bump. “Nice touch with the lipstick, by the way.”

Michael smiled nervously, then turned to face Maria when Bubba was gone. “January, Maria. He’s been training since January. He’s been training for a Hannah Montana race.”

“Weird,” Maria agreed. “He seems super nice, though.”

“This is crazy,” Michael panicked out loud. “I don’t stand a chance.”

“Sure you do.” Maria rubbed his back encouragingly. “You’re a cool dad, and this is by far the coolest dad thing you’ve ever done.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Right, Miley?”

“Uh-huh,” Miley nodded. “You’re the best, Daddy.”

That seemed to motivate him. He set his wig down atop his head, puffed his chest out, and said, “Alright, give me my boa.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tess and Kyle showed up at the radio station about ten minutes before the race started. The parking lot was full, so they parked at a meter down the street and walked to the station, arriving there about five minutes before race time. Kyle stopped at the DJ’s booth and asked, “Any room for an uncle?”

“Sorry, dads only,” the DJ replied.

Tess wrapped her fingers around his arm and led him down the sidelines to where Michael and Maria were standing. “See, honey, if you were a dad, you could participate.”

He grunted. “You think I wanna dress up like a girl?”

“Yes.”

He looked around at all the wigs and boas and acknowledged the truth of that. “Touché.”

“Hey, guys,” Tess chirped when they got to Michael and Maria and Miley and Macy. “I mean girls. How’s our favorite little lady?” She pinched Michael’s cheeks, causing him to roll his eyes.

“Nervous,” Maria answered for him. “Apparently these guys train for this race. They’re, like, really dedicated.”

“They’ve definitely got brute strength on their side,” Kyle agreed, watching two dads pretend to box each other.

“That just means you’re gonna have to rely on speed and determination,” Tess said.

“Show them how you run,” Maria instructed.

“Do I have to?” Michael whined.

“Yes.”

He sighed in resignation and ran in place, his high heels clicking on the pavement.

Tess laughed. “Oh, he’s so cute.”

“Get your chuckles out now,” Michael said, “because I’ll have you know that if I win these tickets, I will not be going to the concert.”

“How many tickets do you win?” Maria asked.

“Three. So I’ll just give ‘em to you and you and you.” He pointed to Miley, Maria, and Tess.

“Hey!” Kyle yelped. “What about me?”

“You want to go see Miley Cyrus?”

He’d already admitted he wanted to dress up like a girl. Some things were better left unsaid. “No,” he lied.

“Kyle, you could have my ticket,” Maria offered.

“Oh, goodie,” he squealed. “I mean, she’s no Britney Spears, but still . . .” He trailed off at the sound of wood breaking. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that one of the boxing dads had just ripped a wooden plank in two.

“Holy crap.” Michael stared in astonishment. “I’m gonna die.”

“At least it’ll be a funny death,” Maria teased.

“Look, Michael, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Kyle reminded him. As stoked as he was about Miley Cyrus concert tickets, Michael’s life was slightly more valuable. “You can back out now, and we’ll think nothing of it.”

Michael shifted from side to side. “But I look so pretty,” he said. “No, no, I’m in it to win it. I’m not backin’ out.”

“Okay, then, come here.” Kyle ushered his friend aside. “You and Maria didn’t have sex last night, did you?” he asked. They hadn’t brought Miley and Macy over like they’d said they would, so . . .

“No, she spent the entire night teaching me how to run in high heels,” Michael answered.

“Then let that be your motivation,” Kyle suggested. “If you win this race, think of how much ass you’re gonna get tonight.” Only males could understand what a motivating force sex could be. Only males.

“Thanks, Kyle,” Michael said as the DJ got on the megaphone and called, “All dads to the starting line!”

“Oh my god, this is so exciting,” Maria exclaimed, turning on the video camera.

“Wish me luck,” Michael said, shaking like a leaf.

“Good luck.” Maria rose up on tip toe and kissed him quickly, and then he hustled off to join the other dads.

“That is a brave little toaster,” Kyle said, hoping his motivation technique would work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael stepped up to the starting line, counting the number of guys he was going to have to beat. Twenty-five. The only way he could win these concert tickets was to beat twenty-five other guys whose combined weight was probably enough to bowl over the Empire State building. Great.

“Go, Michael!” Tess and Maria yelled from the sidelines.

“Go, Daddy!” Miley joined in.

Kyle just kept mouthing the word sex over and over again.

Michael took a steadying breath, trying to psych himself up. He stood just as much of a chance as any of these guys.

“Michael.” Bubba fell in line beside him and gave him a full on chest bump this time. “Do your best.”

Michael winced and staggered to keep his balance. “I will, Bubba.” He swung the ride side of his boa over his left shoulder and crouched down, his left foot in front of his right. The whole crowd fell silent, and he waited for the starting gun.

“Ready . . .” the DJ said, “set . . . GO!”

Everyone took off. Right away, guys started colliding. Michael slipped in between them and ran around them, dodging the collisions, running as fast as he could in the unnatural high heels. He felt the hair of his blonde wig billowing behind him, but the finish line seemed impossibly far away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bubba smashing into people like a wrecking ball, eliminating a vast majority of the competition before tripping on his boa and eventually going down himself. Michael didn’t stop. He kept running forward until everyone else disappeared from his view, and all he could see was the finish line. Miley Cyrus’s annoying music rang out in his head, mixed in with his little girl’s shouts of encouragement and visions of him and Maria rolling around in bed together.

His feet burned as they slammed onto the pavement. His lungs ached. His arms pumped furiously at his sides until he felt it, the banner across his stomach, tearing apart as he ran straight through. He threw his arms in the air. Victory!

His family jumped up and down excitedly, whooping and hollering at the top of their lungs. Maria almost dropped the video camera, and Kyle almost got high-pitched enough to sound like a girl. Michael tore his wig off and threw it down on the ground, grinning and nodding in satisfaction as he soaked in the sound of the applause. The other dads surrounded him and all punched him in the shoulder, apparently a way of saying congratulations. He took off his boa and whipped it around in the air like a lasso. Oh, yeah. He was the man.

Miley and Maria ran up to him while Tess and Kyle scurried behind wheeling Macy in her stroller.

“You win, Daddy!” Miley shouted happily, jumping into his arms.

“Because I had my good luck charm on the sidelines.” He kissed the top of her head.

“Baby, that was amazing,” Maria raved. “One second you were at the starting line and the next you were at the finish. You were like . . .”

“Like a cheetah,” Tess filled in.

“Yeah, like a cheetah. Or like the speed of light.”

Tess nodded emphatically. “Definitely light-speed.”

“Or like Paris Hilton,” Kyle put in, garnering confused looks from all of them. “‘Cause, you know, she’s fast.” He chuckled and rubbed Miley’s head. “You’ll understand that someday, little lady, and you’ll laugh.”

“Those other guys were too busy taking each other out, but you were looking straight ahead,” Maria kept on. “Nothin’ but finish line.”

He set Miley down and grinned at his fiancée. “Well, I was highly motivated.”

She seemed to sense exactly what that motivation eyes, because he saw the lure of lust in her eyes. He bent down to kiss her, but just as he was about to, Bubba came up behind him. “Michael!” he shouted, bending down to pick him up off his feet.

“Ah!” Michael yelled as he was thrown over Bubba’s shoulder.

“Michael! Michael! Michael!” all the dad’s shouted as Bubba carried him around in celebration.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel got mad at Billy that evening when he called her on her home phone, but then she remembered that she’d destroyed her cell phone. She forgave him when he talked dirty to her and figured Alex would just overlook this call if he bothered to go over the phone records. She waited until both Alex and Garret were asleep that night to head out to Grunge to meet her sex friend.

She cut everyone else in line, and that didn’t sit well with any of them. “Hey, bitch, what’re you doin’?” they shouted, but nothing they said fazed her. She walked straight up to the bouncer. He recognized her, smiled, and said, “Isabel. You have a good night,” as he let her into the club.

Once she was inside, the smell of sex surrounded her. She looked for Billy, and her eyes landed on him almost instantly. He was standing by the bar, and he looked sexy. He looked like he wanted her. He always wanted her. That was why she liked him so much.

She ran through the crowd and leapt into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She kissed him forcefully and murmured, “I missed you so much,” against his stubble and his lips.

“Really?” He set her down.

“Yes.” She smothered his chest with her hands, loving the feel of a male’s body beneath her fingertips. “Everything went to hell while you were away. I needed you to do me and make it better.”

He grinned proudly. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Oh, I didn’t wait,” she informed him casually. “I slept with Lorenzo.”

“With . . .” He took a step back, staring at her accusingly. “What the hell, Is?”

She shivered with delight. Michael used to call her Is. “Things got really bad. I needed it. Come on, I’m sure you hooked up with some Colorado chick.”

“No, I didn’t,” he said. “I could’ve.”

“You should’ve.” She balled his shirt up in her fists and pulled him closer. “Don’t be mad. You know you’re the only one I want.”

“But that’s not true.” He sounded angry. He looked angry, too. But still sexy.

“Billy . . .” She snaked one hand down in between their bodies and cupped his balls through the confines of his jeans. “Dance with me.”

For a moment, he looked as though he were trying to resist; but she saw that tempted look in his eyes, and she knew she had him. She smiled coyly, took his hands in hers, and led him out onto the dance floor. The music swirled around them, sultry and seductive, and she spun so that her back was to his front. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she set her hands down atop his, lacing their fingers together as she swayed her hips from side to side. Right, left, right. She loved to use dance as foreplay.

She craned her neck to the right and felt his hot breath on her skin, his lips hovering just above her pulse point. The ends of her hair tickled. This felt so good. She smiled dazedly and felt like she was high. She could almost imagine she was with Michael.

His insistent erection dug into the small of her back as they swayed to the beat, and she swirled her hips around just enough to come into contact with it and make him groan. The couple beside them was going at it, the girl bent over with her man plowing into her. It was an erotic sight, and when she saw it, Isabel knew it was time to dance in that way.

She took Billy’s hand again and led him into the darkened corners of the club. He pressed her up against the wall and lifted her dress. She gasped when his hands slapped against her naked ass. If she’d been wearing panties, they would have been soaked by now.

She lifted her right leg and settled the toe of her shoe into the back pocket of his jeans. She heard his zipper slide down only moments before she felt him glide into her. She shuddered and dug her fingers into his shoulders. Lorenzo was bigger, but she somehow felt fuller with Billy. Better.

They did the sex dance, and she came hard and fast. He spent himself inside her moments later, and then they left the club to take a walk outside. The moon and the stars were shining, and he was holding her hand. It was almost romantic.

“So Alex really lost his job, huh?” Billy said.

“Yeah, didn’t you get my voicemails?” She’d told him all about it.

“My phone quit workin’,” he replied. “I need a new one.”

“Hmm, me, too.” Sometimes they had an awful lot in common. “I’ll buy you a new one,” she offered. “I got two-thousand dollars.”

“From who?”

“My brother. He wants me to spend it on Garret, but Garret doesn’t need anything.” She shrugged. “Oh, by the way, he knows about us.”

Billy frowned. “Garret?”

“No, Max.” She felt his grip tighten on her hand, so she quickly assured him, “I’ll take care of it. Don’t freak out.”

“If you say so.” He sighed heavily. “So what happens now?”

That was the broadest of broad questions. “With what?”

“With your life,” he clarified. “You gonna get a job?”

She laughed. “No. Alex is gonna find a new job and you are gonna keep me entertained.” She reached over with her free hand and rubbed his recovering package. “Unless you got a record deal. Did you?”

He stopped walking and stepped in front of her, looking down at the sidewalk. “No,” he mumbled. “This guy came up to me and offered, but . . .” He shook his head disappointedly. “He wanted me to change my music all around, you know? He wasn’t lookin’ for an underground artist; he was lookin’ for the next Justin Timberlake.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, pretending to be sympathetic when she was actually elated. “But at least this way you can stay here with me.”

He smiled and ran his fingers through her hair. “My thoughts exactly.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kyle sauntered into the kitchen that night before crawling into bed. Tess was unloading dishes from the dishwasher, humming a Britney Spears song. He stood in the doorway for a moment and watched her, remembering the way he used to watch her back in college, back when she hadn’t even known he was alive. Marrying her and being with her forever had once been a distant dream, but somehow, it had become a reality. The girl was the love of his life, and all he wanted was to make her happy.

“Tess?”

She quit humming and glanced up. “Hmm?”

Look at her, he thought. She was stunning, and she loved him. But lately, he felt like he hadn’t given her many reasons to love him. He’d been dodging the children conversation for as long as he could, but it was time to tackle it head on. Today was as good a day as any to do that. Today had been a good day. They were all good with her.

“I know I’ve been a jerk lately,” he acknowledged, “and I’m sorry. I just got freaked out when you said you wanted a baby.” He rubbed his sweaty palms against his boxers and licked his dry, nervous lips. “But today I saw how much Michael likes being a dad and how good he is at it . . . and I don’t know if I’d be as good as him, but I could try.”

Tess slowly stepped towards him, a questioning look in her eyes.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I thought about it, and I realized how cool being a dad might be. So if you still wanna have a baby . . . let’s do it.” He cringed. Let’s do it? That wasn’t exactly eloquent or romantic.

“Kyle.” Her face lit up. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course.” He would have done anything for her, to make her happy. “And believe me when I say we’re gonna have fun tryin’.” He bent down and wrapped his arms around her legs, hoisting her up over his shoulder.

“Ah!” she screamed, laughing as he carried her upstairs to their bedroom. “Kyle!”

Let’s make babies, he thought. There was no turning back now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria was glancing through the TV Guide magazine when she saw there was a marathon of Snapped on Oxygen that night. Awesome. She was about to reach for the remote when Michael came downstairs. He was still wearing Tess’s boa, but the lipstick, high heels, and blonde wig were thankfully gone now.

“Is she asleep?” Maria asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “She’s clutching the tickets in her hands.”

Maria laughed. “Does she know the concert’s not ‘til January?”

“I think she’s already counting the days.” He came to stand beside the couch, flicking the feathers of the boa with his thumb.

“Why are you still wearing that thing?” she asked, setting the TV Guide back under the coffee table.

“I don’t know.” He swung it around his neck. “I think I kinda like it.”

“Come here.” She grabbed the boa and pulled him towards her, kissing him. She had a hard time taking him seriously while he was still wearing a piece of his feminine attire, though, so she removed the boa for him and dropped it onto the floor. “Mmm,” she murmured, grazing her teeth along his bottom lip. “Even though you looked like a girl today, you were so sexy.”

He grinned against her lips and crawled on top of her. Her head hit the arm of the couch, and she knew where this was headed before he even made the suggestion.

“You wanna go upstairs?”

She wrapped her arms around him and danced her fingers along his spine. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He sat up slightly. “Maria, my entire motivation for winning that race today was having sex tonight. With you.”

“And here I thought your motivation was your daughter.”

“Well, her, too.” He placed one hand atop her stomach, gradually scrunching her shirt upward. “Come on, the girls are asleep. We could be quiet.”

Quiet? Them? Not likely. “I don’t know . . .” Making out and being all cuddly was great, but as much as she wanted to have sex . . . something was holding her back.

( 8) )

“What’s wrong?” he asked as though he were reading her mind. “Why don’t you wanna have sex?”

“Because . . .” She pulled her shirt back down, trying to think up a legitimate excuse. “It’s been so long, it’ll be like our first time all over again. And if it’s our first time, I’d like to be able to be as loud as I please.”

He studied her in silence for a moment. “Okay. That’s one reason.”

“That’s the only reason.” She slid out from underneath him and went out into the backyard. She wrapped her arms around herself as the cool evening breeze swirled. She heard the back door open and shut as Michael followed her outside.

“Seriously, Maria, what’s wrong?”

She sighed exasperatedly. “Nothing.” Couldn’t he just leave it alone? She was bordering on rant mode. It wouldn’t take much to set her off.

“Are you pregnant again?” he asked in all seriousness.

She rolled her eyes and flapped her arms against her sides. “No, but I might as well be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Michael . . .” She turned around, locking eyes with him in distress. “I’m unattractive.”

At first he just stood there as though he hadn’t heard her correctly. Then he spat, “What?

“After we got home today, I realized none of those guys at the Hannah Montana race flirted with me. Not one.”

“Well . . . they’re probably all married,” he pointed out.

“So? That doesn’t matter. Tess said there were two guys—one single dad, one attached—who came onto her today. Two. And no one came onto me.” Granted, she had an engagement ring on her finger, but Tess had a damn wedding ring on hers.

“Maria, they were like cavemen. Did you really want their attention.”

“Yes!” It would have been annoying, but flattering. “You know, there was a time not all that long ago when their jaws would’ve dropped when they saw me. But they don’t do that anymore ‘cause I’m . . . I’m not as hot as I used to be.” She squeezed the fat on her sides to prove that. “Look, I got pregnant and I got bigger, and I got older and it sucks.” She whimpered.

“Are you kidding? You’re beautiful.”

She poked and prodded his chest with her index finger. “You have to say that. I had your children. But apparently I wasn’t beautiful to those guys today. Now maybe you don’t understand ‘cause you’re not a girl—”

“I was today.”

“—and it’s different when you’re a girl. Girls are supposed to be, like, eternally youthful and gorgeous, and that’s just not realistic.” The rant was on, too late to stop it. The words poured out of her mouth a mile a minute. “And I know you love me a lot, and I love you, too; and I realize I’m just rambling on and on at this point, but I want you to understand how I’m feeling because I don’t know how I can possibly have sex with you if I don’t even feel sexy--”

Michael cut her off abruptly when he slammed a kiss onto her lips. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt from him. He wasn’t asking for permission; he was demanding permission. Knowing that he wanted her so badly made Maria feel instantly sexy.

She looped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair. God, she loved his hair. She loved his everything. Mostly she loved that she could feel a bulge against her stomach. She wanted it elsewhere. She wanted him naked.

“Oh god, Michael,” she moaned, arching into him, snaking her hands down between them. She gripped the bottom of his shirt tightly in her hands and tugged it upward. He lifted his arms, and she dragged the garment over his head. She tossed it onto the grass and smoothed her hands against his bare chest. There they were in their backyard, and he was shirtless. Perfect.

His hands were underneath her bottom, lifting her up before she was even aware of it. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he carried her aimlessly around the backyard, too busy kissing her to find his way towards the door.

Finally, he staggered back inside the house. They didn’t make it past the kitchen, though. He tripped over his own feet, and Maria practically fell against the kitchen table. Michael fell atop her, his entire body plastered against hers. They stilled for a moment, and she whispered, “Shh,” worried that they were making too much noise. The last thing they needed to do was wake Miley up.

He reached around to unfasten her jeans from behind. She pushed her hips back from the table and squirmed out of them as he slid them down. She stepped out of them and kicked them aside, gasping when she felt her man’s hands splayed against her backside. He kneaded her flesh and slipped his fingers underneath the sides of her thong. He pulled it down slowly, leaving her completely unclothed from the waist down.

Good God, Michael, she thought, turning to face him. When you turn it on, you really turn it on. She crossed her arms, reached down, and yanked her own shirt over her head. Then she climbed up on the table and spread her legs apart, keeping her hips perched at the edge. She couldn’t believe they were doing this in their kitchen of all places, but there was no way they could control themselves long enough to make it up those stairs.

He dropped to his knees, and her entire body jolted in delight when she felt his tongue between her folds. A string of expletives fled her mouth as he gently nibbled at her clit. As much as she loved this, it wasn’t going to last long if he stayed down there.

She pressed her feet against his shoulders and tried to push him back slightly. He looked at her in confusion, but she smiled assuredly and slithered down off the table and onto her knees. He stood up, reversing their positions, and she got to work on his jeans. She undid the button and slid down the zipper as painstakingly slowly as she could, cautiously glancing over her shoulder a few times to make sure Miley hadn’t come downstairs. She pulled his pants down, and he groaned when they brushed past his erection. They pooled at his feet, and he didn’t bother to step out of them.

With a glint of mischief in her eyes, she gazed at him and gripped the waistband of his boxers in her hands. She teased him by just staring at him and licking her lips for a moment, then yanked down the boxers in one swift motion. She felt proud when she saw him. There was no way he would’ve been that hard if she wasn’t attractive.

She gripped the base of his length in her hand and circled her tongue around the tip before taking his entire erection into her mouth. He buried one hand in her hair, helping her bob her head up and down along his length. He was quite possibly the only man she enjoyed doing this for, the only guy who didn’t make her feel like an object. He was hers.

He sat down in one of their kitchen chairs, and she released him long enough to search through his jeans for a condom. She knew he had one. He always had one . . . nowadays. She pulled one out of his pocket and tore open the package with her teeth. She sheathed him in the latex as quickly as possible, and he lifted her up onto his lap. She placed one leg on either side of him, draped her arms over his shoulders, and positioned herself atop him, slowly easing herself down onto his rock-hard cock. Perfect fit, just like always, except that it felt even better because it’d been so long.

They stilled against each other for a moment, each one savoring the initial sensations. In the back of her mind, Maria thought about how wrong this was, having sex in the place where they ate. But it was just wrong enough to feel right, so she started to move. Up to the hilt and back down. Over and over again. It took everything she had not to scream at the top of her lungs, because all she could concentrate on was Michael and how he was making her feel.

He held her hips as he raised his groin to meet hers. His usual bedroom potty mouth revealed itself even though they weren’t in a bedroom, and she laughed a little, moving in even closer to him. Their sweat mingled as her naked chest slid against his. Her hair fell beside his face, and his hands massaged her back. She couldn’t tell where he ended and she began, and she didn’t want to. All she wanted to do was get there, and when he angled his thrusts to hit her g-spot, she did. Her eyes snapped open, and a rush of air escaped her lungs. Her orgasm overtook her, and she was faintly aware of him following her over the edge with a few final thrusts inside her.

She collapsed against him, panting for air, and he held her as they came back dwon. His warm breath rustled her hair.









TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
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April
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Part 27

Post by April »

Ellie:
Love that he one the tickets. Loved that he felt intimidated by the Dad's there who had been training for the for months That's just friggin' hysterical to even contemplate
:lol: I based that competition off of an actual competition I saw featured on my local news once. I don't know if the dad's actually trained for it, but they were huge and had these determined looks on their faces. It was really cute.
Oh ... boy. He relented and agreed to having a baby. Why do I have a bad feeling about this? Tess was sure happy enough, but I'm not feeling the joy coming off of Kyle. Bad ... bad feeling!
You're not the only one who has a bad feeling about it. ;)

guel:
Finally they had sex! so many times i thought i would have done it already, but now they did and in the kitchen. bad bad parents.
I have a fetish for writing sexy scenes in the kitchen! I wrote that kitchen makeout scene in Passion, and now this. What's wrong with me? :shock:
no comments on isabel. i do know a person like her and it freaks me out
You know a person like her? My god, stay away from that person!

BB: :lol: Thanks.

lilah:
Poor Maria, glad Michael knocked those thoughts right out of her head.
He bumped and grinded those thoughts right out of her head!
Well, Kyle finally relented, albeit very reluctantly. Is he doing this just to keep Tess happy?
Yep, it certainly seems that way. :?

Novy:
I'm glad Kyle decided to give fatherhood a whirl.
Yep, but now the question is, did he decide that for the right reasons?

Rodney:
The way he slung Tess over his shoulder like that got me laughing.
I know you'd like to do that! :lol:
For a sec there I thought Billy was going to....well be less slimy by being mad over Isabel's cheating on him and take his record deal.
Nope, he's still slimy. And whipped, too.
But to be honest I guess I'm strange....for myself would rather date this Maria even with the five extra pounds and two kids than the skinny yet wild slutty early 521 Maria.
I don't think that's strange. I think that's nice. ;)

Leila:
Kyle just agreed because he knows it makes Tess happy to have a baby now. But what about what he wants? I still doubt he wants to be a daddy though he might have felt a bit envy watching Michael running around in women's clothes and making his family happy. Instead of just agreeing with Tess, it would have been better if Kyle had discussed it with Tess. I mean, Tess' business just started and she wants the next thing - a baby. I'm not happy with the Valenti's.
I think you hit the nail on the head there.
Right now, I'd say he's not anymore in love with Isabel. He's whipped emotionally. While Isabel needs Billy for physical pleasure and not more.
It's kind of that desperate, nearly obsessed kind of love that Isabel feels for Michael. Billy feels it for Isabel, too. Big problem.

Sam:
Seems like Kyle is very willing and I'm really glad he apologized.
Kyle certainly seems very willing.
I can't believe he passed up the record deal. What a fool.
Yeah, that was a beyond-stupid thing to do.

Krista:
You seem to be a fan of the contests. Remember the Vegas one in Passion?
I had to sit and think about this for five minutes before I remembered. Gosh, you guys never cease to amaze me with the way you remember more about my stories than I do.

I think I'm a fan of contests because I always win them. ;)
Oh Billy... what a dumbass. He's gotten himself involved in the most complicated love square imaginable.
It's like a love . . . pentagon, even. :roll: Good lord.


Thanks for all the feedback! As always, I really appreciate it.

It took 326 pages pages, but I finally gave you guys a Candy sex scene. More to come in future parts, I promise.










Part 27








The next morning, Michael awoke feeling simultaneously uncomfortable and more comfortable than he’d ever felt in his life. He opened his eyes and forgot where he was for a moment before he recognized the surroundings of his own kitchen. Maria lay beside him, and he had his arm around her. They had taken the pillows off the couch and retrieved his shirt from outside to serve as a blanket for their makeshift bed on the kitchen floor.

She nuzzled her face against her chest and mumbled, “Don’t move, don’t move,” as he stirred.

“I have to,” he said. “My back’s killing me.”

“Are we still in the kitchen?” she asked, keeping her eyes closed.

“Yeah. Probably wasn’t the smartest place to do it.” He was going to be stiff for a week.

“I had fun.” She drummed her fingers atop his heart and finally opened her eyes. “Hey,” she said, smiling at him.

“Hey,” he returned, loving her sleep-tousled hair. “How do you feel?”

She thought about it for a moment, then confidently replied, “Sexy.”

“Good.” That was how he wanted her to feel, because that was what she was. He derived a sense of pride from the fact that sex with him had made her feel sexy when she’d been lamenting feeling unattractive only moments before.

He placed his hand under her chin and tilted her face upward so he could kiss her. They both had some bad morning breath going on, but it didn’t deter him.

“What time is it?” she murmured against his mouth.

“Uh . . .” He propped himself up on his elbows and glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the microwave. “8:30.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh my god.” She sprang to her feet and seized his t-shirt, leaving him completely exposed on the kitchen floor. “We are horrible,” she said, turning the shirt right side out. “We’re horrible parents.”

“I think you mean horny parents,” he corrected.

“What if Miley had come downstairs and seen us? Oh! What if she did and she’s sitting up in her room right now scarred for life? And Macy . . .”

“There’s a baby monitor in the living room,” he reminded her. “I didn’t hear her cry all night.” But then again, he’d most heard his and Maria’s own heavy breathing, skin slapping together.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, pulling his shirt over her head. “We’re still bad.” She turned and scampered upstairs.

He surveyed the bite marks and scratches on his chest and had to laugh. “Yes, we are.”

He got up, put his boxers on, and checked on Macy while Maria peeked in at Miley. She joined him in the nursery once she was satisfied that Miley hadn’t woken up yet.

“She’s still asleep, isn’t she?” he said.

“Yes.”

“And so is Macy. She picked the right night to sleep so soundly.” He reached into the crib and stroked his little girl’s head. She was finally starting to get some hair.

“We should wake them up,” Maria said.

“Why?”

“Because I have to get to class in an hour and you have to get to work.”

“I can take the day off.” He really wanted to take the day off.

“Well, I can’t,” she said before reconsidering. “Or . . . actually, I could. There’s nothing major going on today. I could get lecture notes from Lucinda, and my other professors put up power points online.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he placed his hands in the curve of her waist, pulling her body in close as he kissed her. This was going to be a great day.

“But if we’re making sweet, sweet love all day--” she started in.

“You call this sweet?” He pointed out the marks on his chest.

“We should wake up Miley and Macy, because then we can unload them on Tess and/or Marty and have the whole house to ourselves.”

“I like the way you think.” He kissed his way down to her neck and bent down to slide his knee in between her legs.

“But then again,” she said, “maybe I shouldn’t skip class, because as a future educator, I should really make education a priority.”

He stepped back and gave her a baffled look. Was she serious?

“Oh, screw it,” she decided, throwing herself into his arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tess sat at her desk that day flipping through a baby magazine while Miley colored in a coloring book at Liz’s desk. Tess was totally absorbed in looking at moderately priced bassinettes when Miley piped up. “Aunt Tess, what’s your job?”

“I’m an interior designer, sweetie,” she replied. “I design rooms for people’s houses and offices and stuff like that.”

Miley made a face. “I never see you do that.”

“Well . . .” She set her magazine down and looked around. “Business has been kinda slow.” Slow wasn’t the right word, though. More like stationary. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen someone step foot in that office who didn’t work there or was her niece.

“My daddy paints,” Miley chirped.

“So does Uncle Kyle.”

“Mama does . . .” She trailed off. “I don’t know what Mama does.”

“She goes to school.” Tess went over to Macy when she heard the gurgling noises that signaled the start of crying. She picked her up out of her playpen and held her upright against her shoulder, patting her back. “Your Mama’s gonna be a kindergarten teacher. You know what that is?”

Miley thought about it for a moment, then guessed, “School?”

“Yeah. You’ll be in school in a couple years.”

“With Mama?”

“No, they don’t let parents teach their children.” Macy let out a little burp, and Tess smiled proudly. Oh, yeah, she was good at this. She set Macy back down in her play pen, and watched her slither towards her blocks. She wasn’t quite crawling yet, but she would be any day now. Right now she was doing a sort of army crawl.

“Mama’s at home with Daddy today,” Miley said.

“Yep.” Tess sat back down at her desk.

“What’re they doin’?”

Tess laughed nervously. “Oh, you are just full of questions, aren’t you?” She hesitated a moment, trying to think of something to say, and then she blurted out the first stupid thing that came to mind. “They’re gardening. They’re just doing lots and lots of gardening. All day.”

Even though she probably didn’t know what that meant, Miley asked, “Can I garden, too?”

“No, not for a very long time.” Tess picked up her magazine again, breathing a sigh of relief. Crisis averted. Years down the road, she was going to have to have ‘the talk’ with her son or daughter, and it wasn’t going to be fun. Luckily Michael and Maria would have that same talk with Miley first, so she could take pointers from them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria rolled on top of Michael, straddling him, plastering her chest to his. They were both drenched in sweat and exhausted, but they couldn’t stop touching each other.

“Mmm,” she moaned into his mouth, gently biting his bottom lip. “Best. Day. Ever.”

“Ever,” he agreed, stroking her sides. She could feel his stiff member standing straight against her backside. He was ready to go again, and so was she.

“God, I almost forgot how good this is,” she said. “You’re like another person in bed.”

He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I am?”

“Well, you’re still you, but you’re, like, you to the extreme. I like it.” Michael had a controlled uncontrollability during sex that made him such a wonderful lover.

“Half man, half amazing,” he joked.

She laughed, and he wrapped his arms around her waist and switched their positions so that he was lying on top of her. He stared down at her for a moment, and her heart sped up in anticipation. He didn’t even have to touch her. Those eyes alone were major foreplay tools.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said.

“You, too. In a manly way, of course.”

“Of course.” He took one of her hands in his and laced their fingers together. “I’m serious, Maria. I fall more and more in love with you each day. I don’t even know how it’s possible to love someone as much as I love you.”

“Whoa. Mr. Romantic,” she teased.

He blushed. “Sorry.”

“No, it's okay. Professions of love make me so horny.”

“Really?” He grinned and buried his face in her neck. “Then I love you, I love you, I love you.”

She giggled and hooked her legs around his waist. She really wanted him inside her again. If only he could always be there.

“You on top this time or me?” he asked.

“Hmm, me.” She pushed him onto his back once again and climbed on top of him, bending down to circle her tongue around his taut nipples. Every inch of him tasted so good.

“I can’t believe we had so much sex today,” he said, tangling his hands in her hair.

“Gotta make up for lost time.” She felt him shiver as her breath tickled his skin, and she decided that this time needed to be a fast and furious fuck. Foreplay was out of the question right now. He was still rock hard, and there was practically a river of desire between her legs. She reached over to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer.

“You know, I really like those condoms,” he said. “They’re snug, but they don’t cut off the circulation.”

She sighed heavily, discouraged by her findings. “Then we’re gonna have to get some more of ‘em, ‘cause . . .” She held up an empty box.

He stared in disbelief. “No.”

“Yeah.” She dropped the box onto the floor. “Bummer.”

But Michael wasn’t willing to accept defeat so easily. “We can’t be out. There’s gotta be more in there.”

“I don’t think so.”

He gave her a hopeful look, one of those let’s-risk-it-without-a-condom looks, and she shot him down immediately. “No.”

“Fine. I know I stashed a few emergency condoms in here back when we moved in.”

“That was years ago.”

“So? It’s not like they expire.” He dug around in the nightstand and eventually pulled out a condom that looked . . . ancient to say the least. The foil package was halfway opened, and it was made by a company Maria had never heard of before.

“No,” she said.

“Why not? What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s old!”

“It’s not old; it’s mature,” he claimed. “Just dust it off.” He shook he mountain of dust off the package and smiled. “See? It’s good to go.” Upon taking the condom out, even he looked semi-disgusted. It looked sort of . . . green. And not kinky neon green, either, but pale, sickly green.

She shook her head emphatically. “Uh-uh. No way am I letting you put that thing inside me. I draw the line.”

“Crap,” he muttered, tossing the condom into the trashcan. “Well, we could always try--”

“If you say ‘pulling out,’ I will slap you,” she promised, “because we both remember what happened the last time we tried that.”

He nodded. “Macy.”

“Yep.” And as much as she loved Macy, she really couldn’t handle another Macy before graduation.

“I was actually gonna suggest 69, but . . .” He trailed off.

“Wait, 69?” Now that was a different story. “Michael, you’re a genius. I love your big brain almost as much as your big--” She was interrupted when the front door open and Tess announced, “We’re back!”

Maria’s eyes shot towards the clock radio. Holy shit, was it that late already?

“Michael? Maria?” Tess called.

“Mama!” Miley joined in. “Daddy!”

“Uh . . . we’ll be right down!” Michael shouted back.

“I totally lost track of time.” Maria got out of bed and ran into the bathroom to get her fluffy, white bathrobe. She tied it around her waist, and when she came back out into the bedroom, Michael still hadn’t moved.

“I’m gonna have to stay up here and take care of the . . . situation,” he said, motioning towards his groin.

She tossed her head back and laughed. The situation? "Way to go Jersey Shore on me." She slipped out into the hallway and shut the door firmly into place. When she traipsed downstairs, Tess was bent down untying Miley’s shoes. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she greeted.

“Sleepy?” Maria echoed.

“Yeah, you look exhausted. And hungry. You’ve must’ve worked up an appetite today.”

Maria gave her a warning look. She ran into the living room and grabbed the remote control. “Miley, catch,” she said, tossing it towards her.

Miley dropped the remote, then picked it up.

“The TV’s yours for an hour,” Maria said. Hell, the TV was always Miley’s.

“Where’s Daddy?” she asked.

“He’s, um . . .” Maria didn’t even know what to say.

“He’s still gardening, honey,” Tess answered for her.

Miley nodded and skipped into the living room, turning on the TV.

“You wanna come outside for a minute?” Tess asked.

“In my bathrobe?”

“Yeah, it’s important.”

Maria shrugged and followed Tess outside. They sat down on the steps of the front porch, and Tess revealed, “So from now on, gardening is code for sex.”

Maria nodded. “Got it.”

“So how’d the gardening go today?”

Maria beamed. “It was awesome. Michael is a wonderful gardener, and he watered all my flowers. With his hose.”

Tess laughed. “Okay, ew, gross. I’m glad for you, though. You needed that.”

“Yeah, it made me feel like I was twenty-one again.”

“I know the feeling.” Tess blushed slightly. “Last night, Kyle and I did a little gardening of our own.”

“Really? Good for you. You get some.” It took a moment for the significance of that statement to dawn on Maria. “Wait a minute. If you guys had sex, that means . . . Kyle decided he wants a baby?”

“Yeah!”

Maria squealed. “Oh my god, come here!” She hugged Tess tightly, sharing her elation. “I’m so happy for you. What changed his mind?”

Tess frowned. “Changed it?”

“Well, yeah, from what I heard, he was leaning in the other direction.” Michael had said that Kyle seemed very unsure.

“I think he just needed time to think about it,” Tess said, “and now he has, and we’re gonna make a baby.”

“This is so exciting.”

“I know, I’m gonna be a mom.”

“A mom?” Maria grunted. “Pshaw, I’m gonna be an aunt.”

Tess laughed again. “Yeah, being an aunt’s pretty great.”

“Except I feel bad now. Michael and I should’ve let you and Kyle garden all day instead of tossing our kids onto you.”

“That’s okay,” Tess assured her. “You didn’t know. Besides, I fully intend to toss my kids onto you once I have them.”

“Looking forward to it.” Maria opened her arms and hugged her best friend again. Even though pregnancy and childbirth were two of the hardest things in the world, Tess had some happy days ahead of her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kyle was just about to close down the gallery and head home early that afternoon when the phone rang. He ran to the front desk and answered it. “C4 art gallery, Kyle speaking.”

“Hey, Kyle, it’s Ed.”

“Ed, hi.” Why’s he calling? he wondered. He and Ed were close for a father-in-law and son-in-law, but they never just chatted over the phone unless something bigger was going on. “How’s Amy?” he asked, immediately thinking the worst.

“She’s doing . . . pretty well,” Ed replied unconvincingly. “Actually, I was just calling because I heard from Tess.”

“And I take it she told you about the baby thing.” Suddenly this little phone call made a whole lot more sense.

“She was so excited she could barely talk,” Ed said. “Congratulations, Kyle.”

“Well, she’s not pregnant yet,” Kyle reminded him. “But she will be. Soon.” He sighed. He’d been expecting to have this conversation with his father-in-law a year or two down the road.

“I’m so proud of both of you,” Ed told him. “You’ll make great parents, raise your children right.”

Children? Kyle thought. Now there was more than one? He breathed a sigh of relief when the front door opened and a man walked in. “Hey, Ed, I gotta let you go,” he said. “Someone just walked in.”

“Oh, okay. Bye, Kyle.”

“Bye.” He hung up the phone. Ed was a really good guy, but he just couldn’t talk about his impending fatherhood twenty-four hours of every day. “Welcome to the C4 art gallery,” he greeted his customer. “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m just looking,” the man responded, smiling at him.

“For anything in particular?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Kyle stood back and watched the man shuffle around the entire gallery. He wasn’t the typical art connoisseur. He looked more like a regular patron of McDonalds. He was chubby, not very mobile, and breathed heavily with every step. His hair was grey-brown and balding, but he was dressed like a businessman. Expensive suit and watch . . . plus, there was a Bentley parked outside.

It took the man only a few minutes to settle on one painting. “This . . .” he said, staring down at Brandon Hughes’s painting of a forest. Kyle had just taken it down the other day, but he liked it so much that he kept it on the floor, leaning against the wall instead of putting it back into storage or returning it to Brandon himself. He’d been hoping it would sell, and now it seemed as though it were going to.

“This is extraordinary,” the man said. “I’ll buy it.”

“You will?” Kyle couldn’t disguise his excitement. “That’s great.” He loved to see local artists get their work out there, and he loved to make a sale, too.

“On one condition,” the man added. “You let me pay more than the selling price.”

“More?” Kyle frowned. That didn’t make any sense. Had he heard him right? “Why would you wanna pay more?”

The man took out his checkbook and scribbled down the amount. “Because I think it’s worth more,” he said, “and I have too much money.” He smirked, tore the check out of the book, and handed it to Kyle.

Kyle’s eyes bulged. “This is five-thousand dollars.” That was way too much. Brandon wasn’t even an established artist. “No, sir, I can’t . . . I can’t take this.” He tried to hand it back to his customer, but the man wouldn’t accept it.

“You just did. Now will you help me load this into my car?”

Kyle couldn’t shake the feeling that something was unnatural about this. But he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He wasn’t stealing. If some guy wanted to pay way too much for a painting, why not let him?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Say Dada.” Michael bounced Macy on his knee, encouraging her. “Macy, say Dada.”

She just looked at him and smiled. He peered closer and saw something white poking through her gums. “Hey, when did she start gettin’ teeth?” he asked Maria.

“She has teeth?” Maria rushed into the living room.

“Just a little one. It’s startin’ to come in.” It was one of her front teeth, barely visible. “Actually, I think she’s got a few comin’ in.” he could see some of the bottom row starting to protrude, too.

“Finally,” Maria said. “I can’t wait ‘til she’s on solid foods.”

“What, you don’t like picking baby food out of your hair?”

“Not particularly, no.” She bent down and kissed him, and when the doorbell rang, she said, “I’ll get it,” and skipped over to the front door. It was Kyle. “Oh, it’s just you,” she said. “I thought you were someone important.”

“Ha. Ha, ha, Maria. Ha,” he fake-laughed, stepping inside. “I didn’t come to talk to you anyway. I came to talk to your almost-husband.”

Maria rolled her eyes at him and headed back into the kitchen to finish making dinner.

“What’s up?” Michael asked.

Kyle sat down beside him and took a folded piece of paper out of his coat pocket. “This.”

Michael unfolded it and saw that it was a photocopy of a check. A check for five thousand dollars. Made out to the gallery. What?

“I sold a painting for five-thousand dollars, man,” Kyle said excitedly.

“Did we even have a painting for five-thousand dollars?”

“No, that’s the beauty of it. This guy came in and bought one of Brandon’s paintings, that forest one, you know?”

“That was five-hundred dollars. Are you sure he didn’t write an extra zero by mistake?” Michael didn’t want this to be a mistake that would slap a lawsuit down in their laps.

“I’m sure,” Kyle promised. “He paid this much just because he wanted to.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed. “I’m not complaining, though. I hope he comes back.”

“Huh.” Michael handed the photocopy back to him and returned his attention to Macy. “Look, she’s got teeth comin’ in,” he told Kyle proudly.

“That’s cool. That’s cool. So, uh . . .” Kyle motioned grandly to Macy and said, “You know.”

“I know what?”

“You know about me and Tess. Right?” He motioned to Macy again.

“Oh, that you guys decided to have a baby? Yeah, I heard. I think that’s great.”

“Yeah, it’s what Tess wants, so . . .”

What Tess wants? Michael was about to ask him what he wanted, but Kyle kept on talking.

“Anyway, I was just wondering, how’d you and Maria do it?”

“How did we . . . make a baby?”

“Yeah.”

He had to hold in his laughter. “Well, Kyle, sometimes when a man and a woman love each other very much . . .”

“No, I know how it’s done,” Kyle cut in. “I just . . . how do you . . . get aroused when--”

“Kyle, stop.” There were certain conversations that were off-limits.

“No, I-I’m serious,” Kyle stuttered. “I’m really serious. ‘Cause last night . . .” He hung his head, looking ashamed. “It happened eventually, but I had to go in the bathroom and yell at it for awhile.”

“You couldn’t get it up?”

“Shh!”

Michael glanced back into the kitchen. Maria wasn’t listening. She was singing and dancing and stirring boiling pasta all at once.

“Look, Kyle . . . it’s perfectly natural to feel weird about sex when there’s a baby component involved. Your . . . problem happens to a lot of guys.”

“Has it ever happened to you?”

“No,” he answered firmly. “But you know what I would do if I were you? Anytime you’re with Tess and you can’t . . . participate because you’re thinkin’ about babies, just think about how she’ll look when she’s carrying your kid.”

Kyle made a face. “Fat?”

“No. No, lesson number one, Kyle: Pregnant women are never fat. They’re beautiful.” He’d made the mistake of telling Maria how big she was when she was pregnant with Miley, and he was pretty sure she’d never forgiven him for it.

“Right, that’s what we tell them,” Kyle said.

“Actually, I think it’s true. I was never more attracted to Maria than when she was pregnant. Even though she was huge . . .” He got turned on just thinking about it. “She was hot.”

“Oh, so it’s like a primal thing? You’re inside her even when you’re not inside her ‘cause your kid’s inside her?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He’d never tried to make sense of his arousal for pregnant Maria, but that sounded about right.

“Hmm. Okay, I’m envisioning.” Kyle closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a few seconds. Then he opened his eyes and glanced down at his groin. “Still not happening.”

“Well, I hope not.” Michael scooted back on the couch. “I don’t want you gettin’ a boner sitting next to me.”

“Man, I’m really worried,” Kyle kept on. “Tess and I have always had a great sex life. What if this changes things?”

“It doesn’t have to change anything,” Michael told him. “Your wife is still your wife. Sex is still sex. It’s just sex without a condom now. Embrace it.”

Kyle sighed. “I’ll try.”

Michael studied him skeptically. He’d seen how excited Tess was about their decision to have a baby. Kyle was nowhere near that.








TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
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April
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Part 28

Post by April »

This is so random, but I think it's cool. On Youtube, when you type "522" into the search bar, "522 trailer" now appears as one of the search options. :lol: Kinda weird, huh?

So apparently my little poll is no contest. Isabel's just running away with it, like I knew she would.


Ellie:
And no Satan, his annoying wench, Wackabel or It's My Pity Party Alex in sight!
It's My Pity Party Alex? :lol: I love that.
Isabel and Max are neck in neck and Liz isn't too far behind. I'm afraid on this ... I will have call draw
You know you wanna vote for Max. ;)
Personally, my theory has always been that she is related to Max - via Philip. I think she may in fact be a half sibling of Max and Isabel's.
Ooh, that's a great theory! Wrong, but a great theory. :lol:
P.S. It's 10:43 EST ... I see you sweet cakes!

Give me!
I slept in a little bit today. :oops:

Leila:
Tess annoys me and I don't want her to make me feel this way. But she became one of those baby crazed women who think that their biological clock stops when you're in your mid twenties.
It's been kind of difficult to write this storyline for her, because I'm aware that I'm taking her to some places that people don't like, doing things with her character that are upsetting and annoying. A lot of people told me Tess was their favorite character at the end of 521, and I knew that might change during the sequel. Let's just say that Tess may make you feel annoyed for awhile, but things will change down the line in this fic. Way down the line.
The guy in the gallery weirds me out. What are his intentions? Will he appear again?
I can't tell you his intentions, but yes, he will appear again. :?

Novy:
It's probably a good thing he's having trouble functioning.
I think every guy in the world would vehemntly disagree that that's ever a good thing. :lol:
That guy buying that painting sounds too good to be true. I hope I'm not right.
Well, you know what they say: If something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Cool new icon and sig banner, by the way. (I love Steffi's art.) I just watched the episode that quote is from a few days ago.

BB:
Woohoo!

That was hot.

It was so awesome to see Michael and Maria finally getting it on and having a wonderful time together.
Thanks. Some of my favorite parts of this story to write have been the parts where Michael and Maria are just together, not even having sex, necessarily, but just enjoying each other's company. I think I rely on those scenes to keep the story feeling "real" when everything else starts to feel like a soap opera. :lol:
Who was the guy in the gallery? I have two theories.
Which are . . . ?

lilah:
I want a day just like Michael and Maria had....that sounds just like heaven lol
Doesn't it? *wistful sigh*
I have an idea about the guy at the gallery too....It's probably wrong, but is it Maria's dad?? Did he become a millionaire? I'm never right but I figured I'd throw it out there.
That's a fantastic theory. No, you're not right, but it's still a great theory. I don't think you'll ever see Maria's dad in this fic, although now I might be a little inspired to write him in somewhere. I don't know, we'll see. But the guy in the gallery is an original character that has no existing connection to the established characters.

Rodney:
Ohh lord don't tell me Kyle's going to get so worried now he's not even going to be able to raise the flag of pleasure?! I mean come it's Tess.....is not even being in the mood even possible with her?!
The flag of pleasure? :lol: Oh my god, I've never heard this euphemism before. I love it. I love it so much.
I'm not going to bash Tess to much here.....she's not a mind reader so Kyle's second thoughts are not always going to be known to her.
That's a good point. Tess's immediate reaction to Kyle agreeing to have a baby naturally isn't going to be suspect he's having second thoughts; it's going to be to be very happy about it.
I see feedback where people go " I think I know what might be going on with that guy"....well not me I haven't got a freaking clue
:lol: That's okay.

Neve:
Is the rich guy who bought the painting Maria's dad?
You and lilah had the same theory! :D Like I told her, it's a fantastic theory, but he's not Maria's dad. He's a completely new, never-before-mentioned character.
I have a theory but it's about the mysterious girl with Max in the videos. Could he possibly have knocked up one of the girls he raped and have produced a daughter?
This is also a good theory, one that a few people have been circulating around ever since I posted that video. But no, this is also not the case. The little girl in the videos is another new character, and she's going to change Max's entire life, pretty much.
Michael's race was one of the funniest things I've read in a long time.
Thanks, it was one of the funniest things I've written in a long time. (And based on an actual race that took place near my hometown, might I add.)
Can't wait for more. (or until I get to read more, I'm pretty busy at the moment)
No worries. Real life gets hectic.

Christina:
But now that the baby issue isn't just between Kyle and Tess, but everyone else knows that they're going to be trying, he's feeling even more pressure than he did in the first place.
Exactly. It kind of became a little bit of a Team Tess vs. Team Kyle situation for awhile there, with mostly everybody hopping on Team Tess and saying things like, "You'll make great parents. Yeah, go for it." So Kyle's feeling a ton of pressure to do what's "expected" of him right now.
I have a horrible feeling that the two of them are going to have a hard time making a baby, and not just 'cause Kyle can't get it up. I'm worried that Tess might have complications, but this is only based off of those promo videos and nothing else. I'm hoping I'm wrong...
Hmm, I'll leave this open to speculation, because it's a really big storyline that is probably going to get really emotional as it wears on.



Thank you so much for all the feedback. I love that everyone has their theories going. Except for Rod, who openly admits that he has no clue. :lol: Love you, Rod.

It's another music day! Today I'm suggesting "The Man Who Sold the World' by Nirvana. Not only is this one of the best Nirvana songs ever, but it's probably one of the most genius covers ever. Only Nirvana could tackle Bowie and make it so kickass. Click on :( when you see it to give it a listen if you'd like.











Part 28








Pizza Hut smelled like . . . well, pizza. The minute Alex stepped out of the car, the unmistakable aroma entered his nose. It smelled good, but he knew he would get tired of it after awhile if he worked there full-time.

He shut the door to his car and wiped his hands against his pants. He was nervous. The interviews at Best Buy and the Gateway Retirement Home hadn’t gone so well. He’d stumbled over all his answers, and the interviewers had seemed unimpressed. Pizza Hut was pretty much his last hope. No way was he going to be a popcorn vendor.

He looked around, reluctant to go inside, and he saw a bar across the street. Hoppie’s. He’d never been there before. It looked like a hole in the wall, and he doubted the drinks would even be good. But he could walk across the street and have a beer in his hand in under a minute. Or maybe something stronger. Liquid courage.

Glancing down at his watch, Alex noticed he had about ten minutes to kill before his interview. Perfect.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

( :( )

I used to be a king, Max thought, feeling as though he’d been dethroned. Dethroned by no one in particular, but by the world. He stood outside on his front porch balcony, gripping the marble railings tightly as the yard sale bustled below him. Furniture, personal items, and even cars were for sale. It seemed as though everyone in the city had shown up. They all wanted a piece of him.

Liz came up the stairs and stood beside him, groaning, “I hate this.”

“What, selling everything we own? Me, too.” He saw an ugly woman in a black pantsuit eyeing his Porsche in the driveway, and it made his stomach hurt.

Liz scratched the back of her head and mumbled, “I’ve been looking at some apartments.”

“I don’t think we can afford an apartment,” he told her flat-out.

She gave him a look of disbelief. “Then what the hell can we afford?”

Instead of answering the question (because he wasn’t sure what the answer was), he cast a glance over to his left. A mom and her daughter were looking at an old, raggedy, beat-up teddy bear. That stupid toy had been one of the first things Liz had unpacked and found a place for in their bedroom.

She followed his gaze and moaned in discontent. “I’ve had that bear since I was two years old.”

“Hey!” Max yelled at the mother-daughter duo. “That’s not for sale.”

The daughter started to cry, and the mother set the teddy bear back down and led her away from the table.

Liz gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

He shrugged. “It was only gonna fetch a dollar anyway.”

“But apparently that’s a dollar we need.” She folded her arms across her chest and asked, “Where are we gonna live, Max?”

Again, he dodged the question. He noticed that Tess, Kyle, Michael, and Maria were walking through the crowded yard sale, and he pointed them out to his wife. “Look who showed up.” He knew they would distract her. White picket fencers, all four of them.

Liz scurried back down the stairs and caught up with them in the yard. Max listened in as she said, “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you guys here.” Tess said something about wanting to buy Liz’s nice things, and Liz urged her to buy some of the clothes. “I’d rather see you in them than all of these fat soccer moms.” She seemed to realize she’d just put her foot in her mouth, because she quickly assured Maria, “I don’t include you in that category, I promise.”

“Whatever.” Maria rolled her eyes and headed over to look at the jewelry while Kyle and Michael went to look at appliances. Tess ventured over to the clothes, and Liz just raked her hands through her hair and went to apply the hard sell to the woman looking at the Porsche.

Max climbed down off his throne—if it could really be called that—and mingled with the crowd, making his way towards Tess. “Most of this stuff’s out of your price range,” he informed her.

“Actually, I’m wealthier than you now, so . . . you suck,” she shot back.

“Sucking was always your specialty.”

“Ew, Max, make me gag.”

He grinned smugly. “I often did.”

She rolled her eyes, lifting up a pale pink nightgown. “So you can take away a man’s money but not his disgustingness. Good to know.” She draped the nightgown over her left arm and kept looking through the clothes.

“Thanks for giving Liz a raise,” he said with all sincerity. “I really appreciate it.”

She stared at him incredulously. “Are you trying to be nice?”

Was that really so hard to believe? He wasn’t a monster anymore. “Yeah, but apparently it’s impossible,” he replied angrily, “so I’ll just quit trying.” He stomped away from his ex and approached Maria at the jewelry display. He raised his voice a little too much and garnered horrified looks from everyone within earshot when he said, “I’m sorry I raped you. It was wrong and I shouldn’t have.” There. Now would these people let it go?

Maria just stared at him for a moment, then said, “I don’t believe you.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I heard about that article.” Fire burned in her eyes as she glared at him. “You’re not sorry. You’re sorry you got caught.”

Then maybe he wasn’t sorry at all. “I really can’t stand you.”

“Then why did you ever touch me?”

“Because you were unattainable, and I wanted to be all-powerful.”

“And look how well that worked out.” She looked him up and down and laughingly shook her head. “You’re pathetic.”

He was officially as dethroned as he could be. Maria had always been able to hold her own against him in terms of insults, but now she was saying things that he knew to be true. “I may be pathetic,” he acknowledged, refusing to let her have the last word, “but at least I’m not just a baby-maker.”

She flinched, and he knew he’d struck a nerve. He figured that was probably all he was going to get. Tears would have made him feel great, but he didn’t have that kind of power anymore. He left the yard sale and headed back inside. He veered off into his kitchen, took out a bottle of vodka, and poured it into a shot glass. He brought the rim to his lips and tossed his head back, downing it and grimacing. Even alcohol couldn’t help him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel pulled her car to a stop outside her brother’s house, not caring that she was double parked. Let some doughnut-loving cop give her a ticket. She could cry her way out of it.

She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. She was touching up her lipstick when she saw Michael reflected in the mirror. She turned around and saw him and Kyle at the yard sale. They were looking at a toaster.

Oh my god, she thought, immediately elated. Screw the restraining order. This was her brother’s house and she had every right to be there. She couldn’t be faulted for accidentally running into him.

She got out of the car, smoothed down her hair, and slipped into the crowd of people. She made her way over to Michael and pretended to be completely interested in a microwave, but he was all she could think about. She took a step backward and bumped into him on purpose. “Oh, sorry,” she said, turning towards him. When he looked at her, his face fell.

“Michael,” she said, smiling. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” She wanted to say more, but he turned and walked away from her as though she didn’t exist. Just like that. He made his way over to Maria and put his arm around her. He bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. And all Isabel could do was watch and be insanely jealous.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Alex stumbled into Pizza Hut and let out a loud belch. There were two people collecting food from the buffet and a number of employees wrapping silverware in napkins. The manager came out from the back and asked, “Are you Alex?”

“Unfortunately,” he groaned.

The manager stared at him disapprovingly and shook her head. “Do you realize you’re over an hour late?”

“Yeah.” Time flew when you were having fun. “I had to go . . .” He tried to think up an excuse, but he couldn’t, so he settled for the truth. “. . . get drunk.” He was well aware that this was the wrong impression to be giving a potential employer, but sadly, it was the right impression of him as a human being. Drunk. Miserable. Alex.

“Listen, I’m going to spare you the agony of an interview and let you know right here and now, I won’t hire you,” the manager told him.

Alex let out a heavy sigh. It was probably for the best. The pizza smell was already getting to him, making him feel nauseous. “Okay,” he said agreeably. “Okay, you have a bathroom?”

“Right around the corner.”

He nodded slowly. “Thanks.” He had only taken one step in that direction when he felt the contents of his stomach rise. He lurched forward and threw up on the floor of Pizza Hut, and the manager jumped backward from the splatter. The customers at the buffet looked repulsed, and Alex was thankful he didn’t work there; because if he did, he’d have to clean it up.

“Oh, god,” the manager said, a horrified look on her face. “Can we get someone to clean this up? Quickly.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel let herself into Max’s house and found him in the kitchen. He was drinking, but when he saw her, he stopped, held up his shot glass, and said, “You know I can’t even get drunk anymore?”

She traced her fingers along the edge of his marble countertop. “I wish Alex could say that.”

Max swirled his drink around in his glass and tossed it back. “You see Michael out there?”

“Yep.” She left the kitchen and sat down on the bottom step of the staircase leading up to the second floor.

“Did he see you?” Max called from the kitchen.

“Not really.” She hated admitting that, but it was as though all he could see was Maria and his kids.

Max shuffled out of the kitchen with a wine glass in hand. “Well, you could always claim to be pregnant with his son and fake two paternity tests to prove it. Oh, wait, you already did that.” He laughed lightly and sat down beside her on the stair. “What’re you doing here? I thought you didn’t want my leftovers.”

“That’s not why I came.” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. Had they turned off the heat in that house? She wouldn’t be surprised. “How did you know about Billy?” she finally came out and asked.

“You mean other than the fact that it’s painfully obvious?”

She made a face. “It is not.”

“Yes, it is. I know affairs, Isabel. You’re not hiding yours very well.”

“Alex doesn’t know,” she pointed out.

“Alex knows more than you think.”

She frowned. “You’re saying he knows about Billy?” Wouldn’t he have said something to her, confronted her about it if that were true?

“I’m saying he knows you’re a total bitch, so it probably wouldn’t surprise him to find out about your affair.”

She sighed in relief. If Alex knew, Max would rub it in her face.

He brought the wine up to his mouth and drank right out of the bottle. “How long has it been going on?” he asked.

“A year.”

“A year, huh? Three-hundred and sixty-five days, give or take a few.”

Isabel shifted uncomfortably. Maybe that was a little too long. Maybe she should have found somebody else by now. But Billy was still getting the job done, so why ditch him?

“I heard you on the phone with him a few times,” Max revealed. “It sounds serious.”

“It’s not,” she denied. The whole basis of her relationship with Billy was that it wasn’t serious and never would be. “He just makes me feel . . . better.”

“About what?”

“My horrible life.” And that wasn’t an exaggeration. Her life really was horrible. “Don’t judge me, Max. You’ve done worse.”

“Fine, I’ll judge Billy,” he decided. “He’s a loser.”

“Do you even know him?”

“No, I know of him. I followed you over to his house one night, drove behind you with my headlights turned off. I recognized the house, and when he came to the door, I recognized him. I went to one of his parties years ago, stopped him from sexually assaulting Maria.”

“How ironic.” Did all the men in her life have to have some sexual connection to that bitch?

“He’s a bad guy,” Max said.

“Like you.”

“He didn’t seem smart or talented or handsome or anything you look for in a Michael.” He chuckled. “I meant man.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I wanna be with him forever. He’s just . . . convenient.”

“You know who else is convenient? Your husband.”

She grunted. “Please, I can barely stand to be in the same room with Alex, let alone take my clothes off for him. Give me that.” She snatched the wine bottle from him and took a drink. “Don’t say anything to Alex,” she ordered.

“Why shouldn’t I? I like him more than you. Besides, you told the whole world I was a rapist. Consider this payback.”

“Max . . .” She knew his weakness was his nephew, and she knew it was always best to target a person’s weakness, so she honed in. “Once he finds out, he’ll start drinking even more than he does now, and then he’ll be an even worse father to Garret. You don’t want that, do you?”

Max lowered his head and thought about it for a moment. He swallowed hard and muttered, “Fine, I won’t say anything.”

Yahtzee. “Thank you.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words to me.”

“Because I never have, jackass.” She drank the remainder of the wine and handed the empty bottle back to him.

“Careful, Isabel,” he cautioned. “Don’t make me mad or I’ll tell Alex everything I know.” He smirked. “Hey, I lost all my money, but I’ve still got some power over you.”

She smiled inwardly. “If that’s what you need to believe, Max.” She had just convinced him not to tell his best and only friend in the world about her ongoing affair, and it hadn’t even been difficult to do. As far as she was concerned, that made her the powerful one.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After buying a few items at the yard sale, Michael and Maria drove around town to check out some potential daycares, but almost all of them were problematic in some way. One didn’t care for infants, another turned out to be an animal hospital, and yet another was so far on the outskirts of Santa Fe that it wouldn’t have been cost effective to send Miley and Macy there. Sadly, just when they’d found a place they liked, they discovered it cost a fortune, more in fact than La Petite Academy had. Since it was out of their price range, they found themselves towards the end of the afternoon at a daycare called The Sunshine Room. With such a bright and cheery name, it was an ironically dark and dreary place. Half of the overhead lights didn’t work. Wallpaper was peeling off the walls. There wasn’t even carpet on the floors.

The caretaker who they had talked to on the phone and who had agreed to show them around, Jackie, was just about as uncharismatic as the daycare itself. She spoke with a monotone voice, didn’t smile, and kept sniffing and wiping snot away from her nose.

“So this is the playroom,” she announced after showing them the front hallway where the kids hung their coats. “The bathroom’s around the corner, and over there’s the kitchen.” She flapped her arms against her sides. “What do you think?”

Maria gulped, unable to say anything. She was in awe of this place, and not in a good way. Amazingly, Jackie seemed to be the only worker on duty, and there were at least two dozen kids running around the playroom and having a food fight in the kitchen. It was complete and utter chaos.

“It’s very . . .” Michael hesitated. “Compact.”

Maria laughed a little. He was so much nicer than her. She would have just said it was a hole in the wall.

“Do the kids eat in the kitchen?” he asked.

“Um . . . wherever they want to,” Jackie replied. “Yeah, a lot of them eat here in the playroom.”

Maria cringed as she saw a little girl about Miley’s age pick up cookie crumbs off the floor and put them in her mouth. “I can see that.”

“And you said you take them outside to play?” Michael asked.

“When the weather’s nice, yeah.”

Michael nodded, peering over Jackie’s shoulder at the backyard. “There’s no fence,” he remarked. There wasn’t much of anything, just two swings and a broken tire swing.

“Well, we always have someone watching them,” Jackie said.

“Someone,” Michael echoed. “One person watching dozens of kids?”

Jackie shrugged. “It works.”

Michael looked horrified but somehow managed to keep his composure. “Well, I think we’ve seen enough here,” he said. “Don’t you, Maria?”

“Oh, yeah.” She had never realized just what a great daycare Happy Hearts was until now. She turned to leave and cautioned Michael, “Watch out for the . . . feces.” She wasn’t sure if they belonged to one of the kids or a rodent of some kind, but she’d noticed them the minute she walked in. They both ran out the door and headed for their car.

“Ew, I’m so grossed out I can barely function!” Maria wailed dramatically. “How are day cares like that even in existence?”

“It’s crazy,” Michael agreed, getting in on the driver’s side.

Maria eagerly climbed into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door. “I feel like sending an irate letter to . . . I don’t know, like our senator or someone. This place is just unsanitary.”

“Unsafe,” Michael added, starting the car.

“Unbelievable. And not in a good way.” She raked one hand through her hair, more concerned about this daycare situation than she had been when they’d begun looking today. “Let’s swing by McDonald’s,” she suggested. “I need to stress eat.”

Michael took a five minute detour from their usual route home and stopped at the drive-thru of McDonald’s. They ordered their food and had to wait about fifteen minutes for all the cars in front of them to get through. By the time they pulled up to the drive-thru window and got their food, Maria could tell Michael was pissed. He didn’t even say thanks when the person at the window handed them their sack of food. He took his double cheeseburger and fries out of the sack, handed the sack to Maria, and drove away from the window. “Check and make sure they didn’t put mustard on that,” he told her.

She lifted her own cheeseburger out of the sack and unwrapped it. It was supposed to have been ketchup only, but when she peeled back the top bun, she saw yellow mixed in with the red. “They put mustard on it.”

Michael slammed his hand against the steering wheel in anger, then whirled the car around and drove back through the parking lot.

“No, it’s okay,” Maria assured him. “We don’t have to go back.”

“Yes, we do. You ordered a cheeseburger without mustard; you deserve a cheeseburger without mustard.” He pulled up at the end of the lengthy drive-thru line, and Maria decided it was best to just let him do this for her.

“What’re we gonna do about this daycare problem?” she asked, sneaking a few of his fries.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “We can’t go with any of the places we saw today.”

“Definitely not,” she agreed, still haunted by The Sunshine Room. There was nothing sunny about that place.

“We’ll just have to keep looking around, I guess,” he said. “Or maybe we could hire a nanny.”

“A nanny?” she echoed. “Can we afford that?”

“No.” He sighed heavily and drove forward as the line moved ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, Maria. We wouldn’t even have to deal with this if I hadn’t been stupid enough to date Isabel in the first place.”

“You weren’t stupid; you were insane,” she teased. He didn’t laugh or even crack a smile, so she rubbed his shoulder supportively. “No, it’s not your fault. We’ve all had toxic relationships. Look at some of the guys I dated. Like in high school, I dated this guy who turned out to be a serial killer.”

Michael shot an alarmed look at her.

“Just kidding,” she said. “He turned out to be a porn star.” That was almost the same thing. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out,” she assured him. “We always do.” This was a bit of a role reversal. Usually he was the one making her feel better.

“This is gonna sound ridiculous,” he prefaced, “but maybe we should just send Miley back to Happy Hearts, send Macy with her. We could tell the staff to keep Garret away from them, and since we got that restraining order, Isabel won’t even be allowed on the premises.” He shrugged. “It could work.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, though she was still a little nervous about Miley and Garret’s friendship. “And even if I have to throw down with Isabel again, I can do it ‘cause I’m so over being scared of her. And I feel more empowered now that we’re having sex again.”

He grinned. “Then we should park somewhere on the way back.”

She raised her eyebrows, liking the sound of that. It had been a long time since they had done it in the car. “We should park somewhere right now,” she suggested. Sure, food sounded good, but he sounded a whole lot better.

He thought about it for a moment, then whipped the car around, forgetting about the mustard-tainted cheeseburger and all the crappy daycares they’d visited that day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After stopping at Billy’s to assure him that Max was no threat and to have sex with him, Isabel returned home as evening was setting in. Alex was lying on the couch, an icepack on his head.

“How’d the interviews go?” she asked.

“Not so well,” he replied.

“Why not?” She couldn’t keep the hostility out of her voice, nor did she want to. Job interviews weren’t difficult. All you had to do was look good, sound qualified, and show up on time. “Did you follow the script I gave you?”

“Yeah, but . . .” He sat up slowly, setting the icepack down on the arm of the couch. “I was nervous at the first two, and the last one . . . well, the last one just sucked.”

“Pizza Hut?”

He nodded.

She sighed, wishing they had gone better. “Well, as long as you didn’t get drunk and throw up on the restaurant floor, you stand a chance.”

He sat still and didn’t say anything.

She glanced back and forth between him and the icepack. He always used ice to ease his headaches after binging. “Oh my god,” she said accusingly. “You’re kidding. You actually did that?” Why was she even surprised? “How could you be so stupid?

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to screw up.”

“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t mean to, but somehow you always do. You’re such a failure.”

“Thanks, that really makes me feel better.”

She wasn’t in the business of making him feel better. He’d ruined her life when he’d come to Santa Fe to claim Garret as his son. For that, he deserved to feel eternally tortured. “You know, when I first met you,” she said, “you were driven. You wanted to succeed. What the hell happened?”

“I married you,” he answered simply.

“No, you became an alcoholic.”

“Because of you.” He stood up and glared at her. “Don’t you get it, Isabel? You made me the man I am today.”

She wasn’t about to let him blame all his problems on her. Hell, maybe if he listened to her once in awhile, their lives wouldn’t have been so bad. “You’re not a man,” she informed him. “You’re a coward. You don’t even have the strength to put down a glass of beer. Now if you wanna know what a real man is, look at Michael.”

“Oh, here we go, the crux of our problem,” he bit out. “I’m not him. But I could’ve been, if you’d given me the chance.”

She grunted in disdain. “You could never be half the man he is.”

“You think he’s so great, and maybe that’s true; but you think you’re so great, too, and you’re not.”

“I’m hot, talented, and a genius,” she bragged. “That’s the trifecta of great.”

“You talk the talk, but you don’t walk the walk.”

She frowned, unused to this. It almost seemed as though Alex was standing up to her. He wasn’t doing very well, but he was trying.

“You always said you should be in charge of Evans Hotels, that you’d know how to run things; but we don’t really know if that’s true. You’ve never even worked a day in your life.”

“Oh, I may have never had a job, but I’ve worked,” she assured him. “I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am today--”

“Which is where?” he cut in.

“Nowhere, because guys like you and Max and my dad always hold me back.” She turned her back to him and walked into the kitchen, fuming with anger. There were times when she wanted to take all three of them and superglue their penises to their stomachs, just because they deserved it. Even her father the corpse.

“Well, if we’re in your way, do something about,” Alex suggested, following her into the kitchen. “Show me awesome you think you are. Get a job.”

Out of the question. That would cut into her Billy time. “No, you can take that popcorn vendor job. It’s a simple responsibility, and it’s your role in this family.”

“No.”

What the hell? Since when did he think he could make the decisions? “Excuse me?” she barked.

“You heard me. I’m not working a crap job for low pay just so I can come home and listen to you tell me how worthless I am.”

“You have to, otherwise you’ll sit around and drink all day.”

“I could go back to school,” he mused, “get my degree.”

Her eyes bulged. “School?” How did he think he was going to afford school? “Money doesn’t grow on trees, Alex.”

“I could take out a loan,” he proposed. “Or I could go to a community college. I always wanted to finish school.”

“Well, sometimes you don’t get what you want.” She glared at him. “Trust me, I should know.”

“I’m not getting another job right now,” he said decisively. “I need a break. Tag, you’re it.” He nudged her shoulder and headed back into the living room.

“You really want me to get a job? With no college degree or prior work experience?”

“Surely that won’t be a problem for the great Isabel Evans.” He sat back down on the couch.

She knew what he was doing. He was taunting her, trying to use her own ego to get her to comply. And strangely enough, it was working. “Surely it won’t,” she agreed. She was always up for a challenge, and this was potentially a big one. “I’m gonna show you how it’s done. You see, unlike you, I don’t have to rely on rich family members for work.” And that was a good thing, too, since they’d run out of those.

“Great.” He picked up his icepack again and pressed it against his forehead.

She sauntered towards him, bent down, and draped her arms over his shoulders. “Once I’m the breadwinner,” she whispered in his ear, “I’ll wear the pants in this family. Oh, wait, I already do.” She smirked and let him ponder that while she went upstairs to get online and start her job search. She couldn’t waste any time when she had something to prove.








TBC . . .

-April


ETA: I forgot to mention another weird thing. Last night, I was absentmindedly watching a show (I can't remember what show it was), and there was a character talking about a guy named Uncle Max, and she said something about how Uncle Max had a sex change and now he goes by Maxine. :lol: Oh, the coincidences. I had to share this because I knew Leila would like it.
Last edited by April on Thu Apr 29, 2010 11:06 am, edited 1 time in total.
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April
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Part 29

Post by April »

Oh, I suck. I suck so bad. I just had to sleep in today. I felt like Jell-o; I couldn't move. Bad me.


Ellie:
Does she not think before she speaks? I'm sure her parents taught her that if you don't have anything nice to say ... don't say anything AT ALL. Dumb ass! Seriously? Is it any wonder why she has no friends?!
It seems like Liz always puts her foot in her mouth around Maria and says something that comes off as insulting, even if it's not meant to be. I think it''s because she's intimidated by Maria in some way.
What the Foxtrot Unicorn Charlie Kilo just happened here?
:lol:
Max ... wasn't sorry - and Maria was right to call him out on it. He was only sorry he got caught, or rather outed.
I think you've touched on something here that will forever be a big debate with this Max. Is he truly sorry, or is he just sorry he got caught? Right now, even though somewhere deep down inside he may be sorry, higher up on the list is that he's sorry he got caught. Now whether that changes or not as the fic goes on remains to be seen.
Right now, she's been away from Garret so long, I doubt she remembers him much ... right????
Well . . . :?
Shoot! I don't know. Crap. The story or my Dad. Damn decisions!
Oh, please, it's no contest. Your dad, girl. :)

Leila:
Besides I get the feeling that Ellie likes it when I'm behind her or under her - whatever position.
I think Ellie likes you in any position. ;)
Why the hell does Tess consider buying Liz' clothes? Ew.
:lol: Well, they're nice clothes.
Could be that Isabel wants the old Alex back before life kicked him in the testicles? He had his goals and I think Isabel liked that about him because he worked for those instead of just relying on his dad (and that didn't work out well). Could it be that she sees character traits in him like she has seen in Michael?
Good questions, and I really don't have any answers. Isabel sees Michael as the God of all men, pretty much, which is unfortunate because it causes her to overlook the good traits that the other men in her life may have. And since she overlooks those traits, they just get pushed farther down to the point where they're barely visible. But the Alex from four years ago used to be a decent guy, and it would be interesting to see how she would react if he ever became that guy again. I just don't know if it's possible for him to be that guy again.
Anyway. You know what surprises me about Isabel that she sees the man as the family provider. It's what her dad told her all her life that girls are only baby makers and shall stay at home. Isabel does what her dad taught her all her lfe. (Of course Isabel is lazy, too.) It contradicts her "I'm Isabel Evans.' - awesomness theory. She lets the man provide for her and doesn't try to be independent in any way.
One of many contradictions that contributes to the overall twistedness of Isabel.

BB:
I'm actually kind of excited about Isabel getting a job. I do believe that she could do anything she turns her mind to and would have made a success of Evans hotel, even without college. So I'm excited to see what she gets up to. And anything that distracts her from her pursuit of Michael is always a plus.
Isabel may have several career ventures that play a big role in her storyline.
So what are Max and Liz going to do for living accommodation? Maybe somebody has a dog kennel they can borrow?
A dog kennel? :lol: Oh, you crack me up. Max and Liz's lives are in a downward spiral. Maybe not downward to the point of a dog kennel, but still very downward.

Rodney:
Isabel is NOT going to have a hard time getting a job! She'll wear something low cut on top showing much of her breast,something high cut showing her legs and than she'll get a job as some male VP's 'assistant'....which means she'll suck/oral sex her way up the Corporate Ladder!
Well, well, well, parts of that may be true. :oops:
Ohh and I know it's no shock to anyone that I was the one who vote for Max being the most evil.
I think it was either your or Ellie who voted that way. There is definitely a strong case for Max being the most evil for the reasons that you gave. I think I should ask the question again as the fic wears on, just to see how the votes stack up as the characters progress through their storylines.
Had Max really had a change of heart and was willing to come out in public and say "Yes I did do this" and take the punishment by the courts and do his time than I'd be willing to say he was a changed man.
And unfortunately, Max will never be willing to do this. He's never going to go willingly serve his time in jail for the crimes he committed. That's just not in his nature to be that self-sacrificing.

lilah:
Maybe Alex will realize being a dad is awesome and will finally clean up his act when he starts spending more time with Garrett...it could happen
It could. I think Alex is going to try to steer himself in a better direction now. Going back to school is a good first step. But at the same time, he's still married to Isabel. He's still miserable, and he still has a drinking problem, so . . . :?
Max is trying to prove he's not a monster? HA!! It's like trying to prove that the sky isn't blue...you can try but no one will believe you
Exactly, and this is the cause of a lot of Max's frustrations throughout this entire fic.

Novy:
It's interesting how the insults Max dished out are more deflated now because you realize he never thought he was as great as he made himself to be if that's the only thing he has to make himself feel powerful and of worth.
Definitely. Max is pretty much just trying to keep his head above water, and it's evident. That's why Maria told him he was so pathetic, because right now, he is.

Guel:
Alex, he forgot his son in the car and went drinking, and if Liz and Max didnt found Garret, he would be dead right now, if i remember it right, it was freezing cold that night.
Yes, you remember right. That is what happened.
This is for me much worse than isabel and max, because they are dangerous to strangers but alex is a danger for his own son. Kids need their parents to protect them and not to use them like isabel and to leave them for dying like alex.
That's an interesting and valid way to look at it. There is a certain amount of sadness involved because I don't think Alex wants to be a danger to his son, but . . . he just is. Although I suppose you could argue that Isabel is, too. Though she's not really a physical danger to him. She's an emotional/psychological danger.

Krista:
I'm probably the only person that agrees with something that Max said.

It's easy to hate someone for the horrible things they've done. But it takes a lot more balls to forgive someone for their wrongdoings.
That's a really good point, and I have to agree.
I don't think I'm silly at all for believing that everyone has the possibility to be a better person than they are.
I don't think you're silly, either. I like to believe that everyone can be better, too.
But I will also say that I would imagine that most people wouldn't turn themselves in to go to jail, even if they are sorry for their crimes. Not that that's the right thing to do, but it is reality.
I agree.
Is the conflict between Kyle and Tess going to be the major drama of this story? Because it seems that Michael and Maria are way too stable for you to throw them in a completely opposite direction.
Oh, there are so many storylines that count as "major drama" that I can't even begin to get into it. Tess and Kyle's baby conflict is definitely one of many major dramas. But there is definitely one drama that is the most major of all, and you'll know it the instant you read it. :oops:
After you told me how much a house costs there, I told my boyfriend we should move to Nebraska so we don't have to be all struggling and everything. And then I laughed because I definitely wouldn't survive living anywhere that isn't 20 minutes from a major metropolitan city. But if Alex can support his family working at pizza hut, well... maybe I'll learn to love it? What's minimum wage there anyway?
:lol: Minimum wage here is . . . hmm, I think about $7.50? It was $6.50, I believe, a few years ago. Yeah, I think that's what I made when I worked at that movie store, but then they upped it to $7.50 and that's about all I make now at my job as a student tutor. If you work full-time on minimum wage and budget your money carefully, I think you could support a spouse and child. But you can't support them on that if you only work part-time.

dreambeliever:
I'm stoked about Isabel getting a job. I think it may actually add more to her character
Let's hope.




Thanks so much for the feedback! I like the Max debates. ;) He's a kind of polarizing character.

"Hotpanties," Leila? Seriously? I'm going to tell everyone that's my new nickname. It sounds so porno.
:lol:








Part 29








“Happy birthday, Miley!”

Maria uncovered her daughter’s eyes, and Miley’s face lit up with excitement. They had decided to have her birthday party in the same place they’d had Tess and Maria’s joint birthday party, out back at Tess and Kyle’s pool. They were presents galore, a chocolate cake, and almost all of Miley’s immediate family. Michael’s parents, John and Sylvia, had shown up. Still no sign of Amy and Ed, though, or Marty.

“Cool!” Miley exclaimed, sprinting towards the overflowing gift table.

“Wait a minute, girly, look who came to see you,” Maria said, grabbing her arm and ushering her back towards her grandparents.

“I see how it is,” Sylvia said, pretending to be upset. “You look right past your grandparents and go for the presents.”

“Grandma! Grandpa!” Miley ran towards them and ran into Sylvia’s awaiting arms.

“Oh, hi, sweetie.” She lifted her up and kissed her cheek. “Look at you. You just keep growing all the time.” She set her back down on her feet, surveyed her a moment, then asked her husband, “John, doesn’t she look taller?”

“She looks taller,” he agreed, reaching down to mess up her hair. “Hey, kiddo.”

Maria cast a glance at Michael. He was watching the scene with the utmost adoration. He’d always had a close relationship with his parents, but since they’d moved to Texas a year and a half ago, he didn’t get to see them as much.

“Now, I hear it’s your birthday,” Sylvia said, kneeling down in front of her granddaughter. “How old are you?”

Miley held up three proud fingers.

“Wow, you’re a big girl now.”

Miley giggled. “That’s what I keep saying.”

Tess leaned over to Kyle and mumbled, “Three going on thirteen.” Maria shot her a look. No, she refused to let her child’s life be that dramatic just yet. Three going on seven at the most.

“Aren’t you glad your grandparents came to visit?” Maria said to Miley. “Wasn’t that nice of them?”

She nodded.

“Will you say, ‘thank you for coming?’”

“Thank you for coming,” Miley parroted, though it was clear she really meant it.

“Oh, you’re welcome, sweetie.” Sylvia gave her another hug. She and John were great grandparents.

“Can I open my presents now?” Miley asked, jumping up and down in anticipation.

“Uh, if you want to,” Maria answered, “but I think Uncle Kyle wanted to go swimming.”

Kyle nodded and gave a thumbs up.

“I wanna swim, too!” Miley yelled in a rush.

“Then come with us,” Tess said, taking her hand. “We’ll get you in your swimming suit.” She and Kyle went inside and led Miley upstairs.

“Wow, she’s crazy,” Maria remarked. “I would’ve never turned down presents.”

Sylvia laughed and walked over to Macy. She was slithering around in her portable playpen set up next to the deck chairs. She hadn’t quite gotten the hang of crawling yet—she was still dragging her legs behind her and looked sort of like a seal—but she kept pushing her chest farther and farther off the ground, so she was getting closer.

“And how’s our littlest Guerin doing?” Sylvia asked, dangling her arm down into the playpen. Macy reached up with one hand to touch her index finger, then lost her balance and rolled over onto her side.

“Watch out, she’s gettin’ teeth now,” Michael cautioned. “And she said her first word the other week.”

“Oh, really? What was it? Grandma?”

Maria beamed. “Mama.”

“Ooh, that’s a tough one,” Sylvia said.

“Well, she said Dada the other day, too,” Michael added in. “Not long after she said Mama. And now I think she’s trying to say Miley.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet.” Sylvia turned to her husband. “John, did you ever think we’d have such beautiful grandchildren?”

He chuckled. “Well, I was a little concerned until I found out who the mother was.”

“Hey,” Michael objected, “I’m beautiful, too.”

Maria laughed and squeezed his arm. “It was really nice of you guys to come visit,” she told her future in-laws.

“We wouldn’t miss our granddaughter’s birthday for the world,” Sylvia said. “Besides, the present was too big to mail.”

“Yeah, I saw that.” Maria glanced back over her shoulder at the gigantic box John and Sylvia had brought along with them. It appeared to be gift-wrapped. “What is it?”

“A pony,” John answered, causing Maria’s eyes to nearly bulge out of her head. “No, I’m just kidding,” he laughed. “It’s a life-sized Hannah Montana doll.”

“Oh, just what she needs,” Michael groaned.

“She’ll love it,” Maria assured them. “Michael got her something Hannah-related, too. Didn’t you, Michael?”

“Yep. Concert tickets.”

“Oh, really? That’ll be fun,” Sylvia said. “I wish I’d been going to concerts at three. My music taste probably would’ve been a lot better.”

“The hilarious part, though, is how he acquired these tickets,” Maria added in. “You wanna tell them about that?”

Michael shook his head. “Nope.”

“Well, you don’t have to because it’s all on video.” Maria picked up the video camera. They planned to tape Miley swimming and opening her presents and blowing out her candles, but she figured she’d might as well show Michael’s parents the embarrassing race footage while she had it out. “You guys wanna see?”

“Sure.” Sylvia leaned in, and John peered over her shoulder. As the video started to play, he fearfully asked, “Son, why were you dressed like a woman?”

“You guys go ahead and watch that,” Maria said, handing the camera to Sylvia. “I’m gonna go call my mom, see what’s taking her so long.” She headed inside just as Kyle and Tess were bringing Miley outside, all three of them in their swimsuits, Miley in her floaties. Maria sat down at her friends’ kitchen table and dialed her mother’s number, waiting for what seemed like an eternity for her to answer. Finally, she croaked out, “Hello?”

“Mom, hey, where are you? I thought your plane was supposed to land an hour ago.”

“It was.” Amy cleared her throat. “We missed our flight.”

“What?” Why hadn’t she called to let them know sooner?

“Our car broke down on the way to the airport,” her mother explained. “I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s okay. It sucks that you can’t be here, but . . . those things happen.” Miley probably wasn’t even going to remember that Amy had promised to be there. She’d be too absorbed in swimming and her gifts.

“Are Michael’s parents there?” Amy asked.

“Yeah, they got her a life-sized Hannah Montana doll.”

“Oh, goodness.” Amy laughed lightly. “Well, I’ll mail her present tomorrow. I just got her what she asked for.”

“Oh, yeah? What’d she want?”

“Money.”

“Money?” Maria echoed. “What a little mastermind.”

“It should be there in a few days.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Maria shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Something was . . . off. Amy had never missed Miley’s birthday before, not even that year their plane had been grounded for an hour due to lightening. “Hey, Mom?” she said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, dear,” Amy replied. “I’m just sad I can’t be there.”

“Well, I’ll wish Miley happy birthday from you. And Ed.”

“Thanks. I’d, uh . . . I’d better let you go. Tell Michael’s parents I said hi.”

“I will.”

“Bye, sweetie.” Amy hung up the phone so quickly that Maria couldn’t even say anything more.

“Bye,” she said, utterly confused as she was left talking to the dial tone. She ended the call and tried to ignore that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she couldn’t. Something was wrong.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amy let out a shuddering breath, setting her phone back down on the coffee table. She knew she should have called Maria sooner to let her know that she wasn’t coming, but part of her had been hoping she would start to feel better and that they would just happen to be able to catch a last-minute flight from Vegas to Santa Fe. But of course that hadn’t happened, and even if it had, she doubted she would have showed her face at Miley’s birthday party. Not looking the way she did right now. She probably would have scared everyone.

Ed came into the living room with a bowl of chicken soup. Bless his heart, she thought. He was trying to be helpful, but she wasn’t hungry for anything. And this was cancer, not the common cold. Chicken soup wouldn’t help.

“Is the nausea any better?” he asked, setting the soup down on her TV tray.

“No, it’s gotten worse,” she admitted, wrapping one arm around her stomach. “Will you hand me my scarf?”

He picked up her headscarf from the end of the couch, a red and yellow flowered one, and handed it to her. She forced herself to sit up straighter and wrapped the scarf around her bald head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After talking to her mom, Maria resolved to enjoy the party. She slipped into her own bikini top to go along with her denim shorts, put on her sunglasses, and lay out by the poolside in the long deck chairs. John and Sylvia were trying furiously to repair the birthday cake. It was melting in the heat. Miley was romping around in the pool with Kyle, and Tess was sitting on the edge, laughing and trying not to get splashed.

Marty showed up about half an hour late. He came into the backyard and sat down next to Maria, a gift in his hand.

“Hey,” she said. “Better late than never.”

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“Miley, Uncle Marty’s here!” she called.

Miley, sitting atop Kyle’s shoulders, looked over at him and waved. “Hi, Uncle Marty!”

“Hey, birthday chick,” Marty called back. Then he turned back to Maria and asked, “Where’s Mom?”

“Still in Vegas,” she replied, deciding not to worry him. She gave him the same excuse her mom had given her. “She and Ed missed their plane, so they’re not gonna make it.” She realized how morbid that sounded—not gonna make it—and added, “To the party, I mean. She’s not gonna make it to the party. She’s gonna make it make it in . . . life.”

“Would’ve been nice for her to be here,” Marty said. “You know, just in case.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Michael’s parents are here, though.”

Marty looked over at John and Sylvia. John was sampling frosting off the cake. “Oh, hey, beautiful people!” Marty greeted loudly. They waved at him.

“God, look at his dad,” Marty mumbled quietly. “Pushing mid-fifties and still totally hot. That bodes well for Michael, you know. Boys turn into their fathers.”

“I’ve heard that.” She had a hard time picturing John as hot, but she had to admit, if Michael grew older and looked like him, she could handle that. “I wonder what our dad looks like these days.” She hadn’t seen her own father since middle school, and that was just fine with her.

“Doesn’t matter,” Marty said. “I can have plastic surgery to rectify any ugly genes.” He touched his nose and forehead self-consciously. “Just don’t let me go too Heidi Montag with it and I’ll be fine.”

“I’d be fine looking like mom someday,” she said. “She’s thin, got a youthful complexion, nice feet. Three things I strive for. Ix-nay on the ancer-cay, though.”

“Definitely,” Marty agreed. “Where’s Big Boy?”

“He’s upstairs changing Macy,” she replied.

“Will he be swimming, too, perhaps donning a Speedo in the process?” Marty asked.

“Perhaps not.” She whacked his arm playfully. “You’re such a perv.”

“I can’t help it. Lately . . .” He trailed off and lay back in the chair. “Never mind.”

“What?” Maria got the sense that something was going on, and unlike the something she’d sensed when talking to her mom, this something wasn’t bad. She sat up straighter, intrigued. “Marty, spill. Is there a ‘lately’ to talk about?”

“Not really. I mean, sort of, but . . .”

“Francis?”

He grunted. “Not even. I hope he becomes cursed with heterosexuality. And boils.”

“Then who? Did you meet somebody new?”

“Kind of.” Marty sat up and started to gush. “He walked into the club and sort of swept me off my feet without even trying. It was the strangest thing.”

“Oh my god, this is so exciting,” she exclaimed. “What’s his name?”

“James.”

“Sexy.” She’d dated a James in high school. Oh, god, hopefully it wasn’t the same guy.

“Sexy? No, not really,” Marty said. “That’s the thing: He’s not really my type. He’s skinny, has a little acne on the face, probably can’t grow a mustache to save his life, but . . . God help me, I think he’s cute. He’s sweet, and he really listens to me when I talk.”

“Always a turn-on.”

“Yeah. Like, I was telling him about my break-up with Francis and how bad that sucked, and so he told me about how he just lost his job and how bad that sucked. And then . . .” He laughed nervously. “Here’s where we hit a speed bump. He mentioned that his ex-boss used to call him Jimmy, even though that’s not his name, and I’m like, ‘Wow, your boss sure sounds like a pompous ass,’ and he’s all, ‘Well, that’s just typical Max Evans.’”

Maria cringed. “Oh, no. He worked for Max? Is he tainted?”

“I don’t know. He seemed like a nice guy, but . . . he was Max’s personal assistant.

“Oh, god.”

“Yeah. But then again, he doesn’t work for him anymore, and he doesn’t seem to like him very much. So maybe I should just look past it.”

“Yeah, give him a chance,” Maria urged.

“Oh, I gave him more than that.”

Did that mean . . .? “You had sex with him already?”

“No. I had phone sex,” he corrected, “which is actually more exhausting and graphic than real sex. That’s why I was tardy to the party.”

“You are so bad,” she scolded, though secretly, she was a little envious. She and Michael hadn’t had phone sex for . . . well, ever. “Seriously, go after this guy, though. It’ll make both of us feel better about your love life.”

“What do you mean, both of us?” he asked.

“I just . . .” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I guess I always felt . . . responsible for your and Francis’s demise.”

“Why?”

“Because I got knocked up. Twice. And you were there for me, but that meant you weren’t able to be there for Francis, and that’s why I feel guilty.”

“Don’t,” Marty said. “Just . . . don’t.”

“But if it wasn’t for me . . . and Michael’s sperm, you and Francis would be married by now, living in Massachusetts with all the other happily married gay couples, and you probably would’ve adopted a beautiful African baby named Quasmi.”

“And I can still do that,” he said. “Just not with Francis. He wasn’t right for me. Turd.”

“That’s why you gotta pursue this Jimmy guy. Or James, or whatever his name is. Go after him like Paula Abdul goes after Simon, like Britney Spears goes after the paparazzi, like NBC goes after ratings.”

Marty made a confused face. “With a lack of sanity?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” He contemplated it and shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Alex slept in that day. He had to. He had a persistent headache, though it decreased with every hour he chose not to drink anything. But that was hard to do.

He got out of bed around 1:00 and showered. He didn’t bother to shave. He’d never been one to grow much of a beard, but why not give it another try? Beards would be a little more appropriate for college than for the workplace anyway.

When he finally got dressed, he went to see what his son was doing. He was watching cartoons on TV. Alex offered to go outside and play catch with him, and the fact that Garret seemed so surprised by the suggestion hurt a little. He seemed more interested in his cartoons, though, so Alex let him be. He heard Isabel doing something upstairs, so he went to see what it was.

When he pushed open the door to her bedroom, he saw that she was completely naked and standing behind a digital camera set up on a tripod stand. She pressed a few buttons, then ran in front of the camera and posed with her left hand on her hip, her right hand in her hair, her chest arched forward, right knee popped, and head thrown back. There was a sultry, seductive, come-hither look on her face when the camera flashed.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m taking pictures to submit to Playboy.” She went behind the camera again, bent forward, and looked at the picture. She must have liked it, because she didn’t delete it.

“Why?” he asked, trying not to stare at her naked backside.

“Because it’s smart.”

“What does taking your clothes off have to do with intelligence?”

She turned around to face him, looking exasperated. “A hell of a lot more than drinking does.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, reluctant to enter into a verbal battle with Isabel. She usually won them.

“Do you know how much they pay the Playmate of the Month?” she said, bending down to pick up a sheer beige nylon robe. “And then Playmate of the Year?” She slipped into the robe, but that was almost sexier than no clothing at all. Even though she was covered, he could still see all her curves. “And Playboy’s not one of those objectifying nude magazines, either,” she kept on. “They celebrate the female body, as they should. It’s far superior to any male’s.”

“Gotta agree with you on that,” he said, forcing his eyes away from her breasts. “But when I told you to get a job, this isn’t what I meant.”

She waved him off. “You just can’t handle the thought of millions of guys slapping the ham to the sight of my naked ass.”

He didn’t want to admit it, but maybe that was part of his concern. “I just don’t want Garret to grow up knowing his own mother posed nude for a magazine. Do you?”

“Why not? He’ll be the most popular kid in school.”

“Isabel.” He was serious about this. Nude photos of any kid’s mother would scar him for life.

“Fine,” she relented, deleting the photos from her camera. “But you know I would’ve been Miss January.”

He had no doubt. Isabel was one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen, and unlike most of the girls in that magazine, she didn’t have to rely on breast implants and liposuction. “But what would you do when they ask you to project a warm and bubbly personality? Then you’d be in trouble.”

“Whatever,” she scoffed. “Warm and bubbly’s overrated anyway.”

He would have given anything for her to be warm and bubbly once in awhile. “So how’s the rest of the job search going?” he asked. “By now you probably realize it’s not as easy as it seems.”

“No, it’s surprisingly easy,” she argued. “I’ve already got an interview scheduled at this advertising firm on Wednesday. They pay in the thirty-thousands for entry-level positions.”

“Oh. Good.” That pissed him off. He’d spent years at Evans Hotels and had never made it past thirty-three thousand a year. “But what’re you gonna do if they check out your bogus references?”

Isabel didn’t seem worried. She smirked and declared, “I’ve got it covered.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel bit her nails nervously as Billy talked on the phone to Arthur Miller, the man who was considering hiring her. The man had called right as they were about to get high. Thankfully not after.

“Isabel was my star employee,” Billy lied smoothly. “She worked so hard, never disappointed with her . . . performance.” He grinned at her, and she blushed. “She was a pleasure to work with. An absolute pleasure.”

Isabel covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter. This was great. As far as Arthur was concerned, Billy was her former boss at Green Leaf advertising. He had to be buying it; if he wasn’t, he would have hung up the phone by now.

“Yes, sir,” Billy was saying. “You’d do well to hire her. She could bring many assets to your team.”

She spun around and spanked her own butt for him. He licked his lips and kept talking.

“You let me know if I can be of any assistance. Yes, sir. Have a nice day.” He flipped his phone closed and tossed it over the back of the couch.

“Billy!” she exclaimed, bounding towards him. “That was amazing!” She flung herself onto his lap and raved, “I’ve never been so impressed with you before.” He had sounded so qualified and professional.

“Anything for my girl.”

“Just to repay you, I’ll be your girl tonight, as in your willing sex slave.”

“For real?”

“Savor it. It doesn’t happen very often.” She sank down in between his legs and undid his pants, freeing his straining cock from their confines.

“Hey, I just shot myself in the foot, didn’t I?” he realized. “When you get a job, you ain’t gonna have as much time to spend with me.”

“Then we’ll just have to fuck hard and fast whenever we do get together.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I like to slow it down and make love to you,” he protested.

“Make love?” She almost choked on the words. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before.” How could you make love without being in love?

“I have layers, you know,” he claimed.

Why was he talking when she was about to go down on him? “Billy. Shut up.” She bent forward and took him into her mouth. He didn’t say another word.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Miley brought her life-sized Hannah Montana doll to bed with her that night. It was her favorite present. She didn’t care that it took up half the bed or was a pain in the ass to haul around. She loved it and wanted to braid its hair. She didn’t know how to braid yet, but Michael had no doubt that she’d learn. She was a motivated kid, just like he’d been.

“Did you have a good birthday, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling the covers up over both her and her doll. Poor Frank was relegated to the floor tonight.

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured.

“Did you get everything you wanted?”

“Yeah. Grandma and Grandpa are so cool.”

He chuckled. That they were. “Well, listen, I’m not trying to outdo them or anything, but I got another present for you.”

“Really?” She sat up in her bed, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

“It’s not something I can hand to you, but it’s something I can tell you,” he explained. “I think you’re gonna like this: Your mom and I decided to send you back to daycare again, and we’re gonna send you back to Happy Hearts, the place you were going before.”

“I liked it there,” she chirped. “Is Garret gonna go?”

“Uh . . .” He’d been dreading that inevitable question. “I don’t know, maybe. But even if he is there . . . you two can’t play together. I’m sorry, I know it’s not fair, but that’s just the way it is.”

She frowned and lay back down again. “Okay,” she mumbled.

“Okay.” Well, that had been easier than he thought. Good. “And don’t worry, I’m sure there are plenty of other people—girls, especially—who you can be friends with.” Miley really needed to not gravitate towards the opposite sex. It was in her best interest.

She wrapped her arms around her doll again and said, “Goodnight, Daddy.”

He gave her a kiss on the forehead and whispered, “Goodnight, baby girl.”

“I’m not a baby,” she protested as he left the room. He smiled and shut the door. She’d always be his baby, even when she was older and in high school and . . . oh, god, dating.

When he got downstairs, Maria was putting sheets on the fold-out bed of their couch. His parents had offered to go stay in a hotel, but since they had a place to put them, that seemed unnecessary.

“It’s a shame your mom’s car broke down,” Sylvia was saying.

“I don’t really think it did,” Maria said, stretching the Hawaiian-print sheets over the bottom left of the mattress. “I think that’s just a cover-up.”

“What do you mean?” Michael asked, walking towards her.

“Hey, did you get the girls to bed?” she asked.

“Yeah. Cover-up?”

She quickly fluffed both pillows and said, “That car’s practically brand new, and she and Ed only live, like, twenty minutes from the airport. Maybe things have taken a turn for the worse and that’s why she didn’t show.” She shivered.

“No, if it was really bad, she’d be here for sure.” He rubbed her arms with his hands, trying to comfort her. “She’d wanna see Miley.”

“Yeah, maybe she just feels sick and doesn’t wanna tell me,” she supposed. “I don’t know, I’m actually trying not to think about it. So in brighter news . . .” She turned to John and Sylvia. “Your bed’s ready.”

“Thank you,” Sylvia said, sitting down. She bounced on the mattress and smiled up at John.

“Comfy, huh?” Michael said. He and Maria had gotten that couch on eBay for only one-hundred dollars, and it had served them well over the years.

“Very.” His mother stood up again and walked around the bed towards Maria. “Come here, honey,” she said, opening her arms to embrace her. “Oh, you know we’re here for you.”

“I know.”

“And I’ve talked to your mom on the phone a lot this past month. She’s a brave, strong woman, just like you.”

Maria smiled and pulled away. “Thank you,” she said, though Michael could tell she didn’t quite believe the compliment. Maria rarely gave herself enough credit these days.

“So Michael, did you tell Miley about the daycare thing?” she asked.

“Yep. She’s excited.”

“Did you tell her who she’s not allowed to play with?”

He nodded slowly. “Mmm-hmm. She’s less excited about that.”

“If we lived nearby, we’d watch her,” Sylvia said, “but with John’s work taking him to Texas . . .”

And offering you an early retirement,” John put in.

“Well, I wish we lived closer, that’s all. But Texas is nice. Maybe someday you two might decide to move your family there.”

“Well . . . never say never,” Maria replied, “but we can’t go anywhere without Tess and Kyle.”

“Right,” Michael agreed. “Or . . . Tess, at least.”

Maria laughed.

“No, I don’t see us moving anytime soon, to be honest,” Michael told them, “not with the gallery doing so well. So I guess we’ll just have to wait for both of you old-timers to retire and move back here.”

His father closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and sighed, “Ten more years.”

“You know what?” Maria said. “I bet if we moved anywhere in the world, Isabel would follow. Even Thailand. She’d follow you to Thailand.”

“Oh,” Sylvia groaned, “that insufferable whore.”

“Mom!” Michael knew his mother had never gotten along with his ex, but he had never heard her talk about anyone like that.

“Let her speak the truth,” Maria encouraged.

“Is she still hanging around causing trouble?” Sylvia asked, sitting down on the couch/bed again.

“Unfortunately,” Maria muttered, “although she can’t really hang around us anymore because we filed a restraining order against her.”

Sylvia’s eyes widened, and John barked, “Whoa. This sounds serious.”

“It’s mostly just annoying,” Maria said.

“Yeah, we got a handle on it,” Michael assured his parents. “It’s fine.” The restraining order seemed to have done the trick. He hadn’t had to deal with Isabel since then.

“Well, I’ll tell you what, I feel sorry for that boy of hers,” Sylvia said sympathetically. “I can only imagine what it’s like to have her as a mother.”

“Yeah.” Michael felt bad for Garret, too, but there was nothing he could do about it. “He’s actually Miley’s friend.”

“What?” his mother shrieked, and it was his father’s eyes that grew wide this time.

“Hence the reason for the preschool conundrum,” Maria explained. “They met there. Ten years from now it could be a way bigger problem than it is today, so just say your prayers that she starts to think boys have cooties. Which they do, by the way.” She tilted her head up and smirked at Michael.

“Very funny.”

“Oh, I’ll pray right now,” Sylvia said, lowering her head and folding her hands. Her eyes closed, and her lips started to move as she said the words silently. The silence was broken when Miley hollered from up in her bedroom.

“Daddy! Monster!”

“Oh . . .” he groaned, already heading back upstairs. And here he was thinking she’d gotten over that.








TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
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April
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Part 30

Post by April »

Leila and Ellie are still such big cheaters. :lol: BB was technically first.


Leila:
I'd rather prefer Chucky than Hannah. Seriously, that girl and the hype about her weirds me out.
Chucky? :lol: The hype about all these young stars weirds me out these days. The Jo-Bros phenomenon, the Bieber Fever . . . ugh! I wonder if this is how ridiculous it seemed to adults when I was (and let's be real here, still am) obsessing about NSYNC and Britney Spears.
But I'm surprised that Alex didn't have much of a problem to convince her to not be a playmate or basically nude to get a job.
Maybe her heart wasn't really in it. For as enthusiastic as Isabel acted about her Playmate idea, she really doesn't enjoy using her body for money. She's a conflicted feminist. One minute she's all about female empowerment, but when she realizes that the only power she really has is her body, she'll resign to using it if she has to.

Ellie:
It would take a really big eye opening experience for him to realize just what he has done.
And there might be one of those, but I don't want to make any promises. Remember how I told you I was using the "Space Monkey" song for one of the huge Max scenes? If any scene constitutes an eye-opening experience for him, it will be that one.
Why do I have a feeling that regardless of what Marty says about Francis, that he will make a reappearance begging Marty for another chance? Or maybe, that's just the romantic in me?
Well, I hadn't planned that, but now that you give me the idea, you never know.
Sylvia rocks! Love her ... Love Her ... LOVE HER! Oh, she made my heart beat faster and slower with that accurate tongue lashing at Isawhore's character. Don't get why Michael would be shocked that he mother feels that way though and I'm not going to read anything into that!
Michael's parents are pretty clean-cut people, so for Sylvia to openly call someone a whore speaks volumes about how much she dislikes Isabel and probably caught Michael a little off-guard because he isn't used to hearing his mom talk like that.

BB:
Funny how he has no problem with Garret growing up knowing his father is a negligent, selfish a-hole alcoholic though. Alex is really, really, really pissing me off. He is so incredibly selfish.
Alex has climbed so far down into this pit of despair that I honestly don't know if it's possible for him to climb back out. And yes, it does make him very selfish, which is sad.

Novy:
I sure hope Amy is ok and it's just the chemo making her feel awful and she's not getting worse.
The poor woman feels a combination of physically horrible and emotionally horrible right now. She's embarrassed of what she looks like without hair. She doesn't want her family to see her that way. :(
I wonder if she'll have fake her skills too if she gets the job.
If Isabel gets a job, she'll probably excel at it.

Rodney:
when I got to the part of Marty meeting the tall skinny guy who used to work for Max Evans my brain shouted out "Ohhhhh shit Alex!!!"
:lol: hahahaha! That would have been quite the plot twist!
Ohhhh and was that some mind thing you had for making Isabel Miss January? For my birthday is in January and it's a cold,dark,frosty month...sounds a bit like Isabel doesen't it?
I honestly just chose January randomly, but now that you mention it, it works for her in that symbolic way.


Thanks for the feedback!

NOTE: I should probably tell you that the end of my semester is nearing, and I'm going home this summer, unlike my last two summers when I lived on campus. Which means--you guessed it--a lack of Internet. I've been fretting about what to do about this for awhile now, and I think I've got a solution. When I'm on summer break, I'm going to decrease the number of updates but by no means eliminate them. I might drop down to two a week for awhile, and there might be sometimes where I have to drop down to one a week. I feel really bad about it, and I'm a little nervous about how I'm going to survive without Internet for months. We live so far out in the country, though, it's impossible to even get Internet access without having some tech guy come out and install this huge satellite onto the side of our house. Not worth it, if you ask me. Anyway, I will be commuting to my university for a few weeks and teaching classes to high schoolers later this summer, so I will be at places with Internet access, and I will do my best to get my updates posted when I can. (To tell you the truth, I'm more concerned about how far behind I'll fall on my fic reading.) Anyway, that's what's going on. I think it will work out. You'll just see less of me around here for a few months before I come back in the fall.

Updates this week will be normal - Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. After that is when things will get weird. Bear with me.



The "Shamoo" line in this part is from the movie White Girls. Gotta give credit where credit is due.









Part 30








At work the next day, Kyle barely gave Michael time to walk through the door after his routine morning trip to Burger King before ambushing him and saying, “You wanna hear my brilliant business idea?”

“Brilliant?” Michael seemed to doubt that.

“Yeah, I was doing some reading . . .”

“Reading?” Michael cut in again. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing your wife?”

“Well, this was after she went to sleep. Will you quit interrupting me?”

Michael chuckled.

“So I read that it’s a good idea for small businesses to work with other small businesses in order to maximizes their profits.” He wasn’t going to admit that he’d read this on Wikipedia—or maybe it was a branch site of Wikipedia—because Michael, having been a straight A student all the while he was in high school and college had a strong disdain for unreliable sources.

“Go on,” Michael urged.

“That got me thinking: We have lots of paintings here that show either full or partial nudity. I happen to know this because of all the erections I’ve gotten doing inventory.”

Michael made a face of disgust.

Anyway . . . our nude-loving gallery is also located next to—oh, you guessed it—a porn video store. Plenty of nudity up for grabs there, and with a name like Cockadoodle-Doo, you know it doesn’t disappoint.”

“Kyle, I’m not getting any younger,” Michael said, looking impatient.

“Right. So my brilliant idea is . . .” He drew it out just for dramatic effect. “We team up with the video store and hold an auction. They auction off the porn they need to sell, we auction off the paintings we need to sell, all under the umbrella term of ‘nakedness.’” He rubbed his hands together and grinned, loving the idea. Maybe it was the pervert in him, or maybe a combination of the pervert and the businessman, but he really truly thought it was brilliant.

Michael stared at him like he was a freak, seeming far less enthused.

“Oh, come on, it’s a good idea,” Kyle insisted. “A little cross-promotion, some advertising innuendo . . . sales and notoriety, man, sales and notoriety.”

“Well, I don’t know much about business, but that sounds good to me,” Michael finally agreed. “Or maybe a silent auction would be better since people might be a little reluctant to bid on porn out loud.”

“Yeah, yeah, we could call it ‘Sex Sells.’”

Michael laughed. “It does sell,” he admitted. “Have you talked to Cockadoodle-Doo’s manager about it?” He cringed. “Cockadoodle.”

“Yeah, he’s all for it. Oh, man, this is gonna be awesome. I’m a genius, right?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” Michael was about to take both their breakfast croissants out of the Burger King sack when the front door opened and someone walked in.

“Customer,” Michael said, heading towards him.

“Wait.” Kyle grabbed his arm and held him back. He recognized that guy. Huge and memorable. “That’s the guy who paid five-thousand dollars for one painting.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He flexed his fingers and proclaimed, “I’ll go work my magic.” He headed over towards his new favorite customer, trying not to appear to desperate. “Hello there,” he greeted. “I didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

The man smiled as he walked along the wall, surveying the work on display. “I never can resist the allure of fine art.”

“Yeah, me, neither,” Kyle agreed. “Say, how’d that last painting work out for you?”

“Oh, just great. I gave it to my wife as an anniversary present. She loved it. Now I’m looking for something to give to my daughter on her birthday.”

“How old is she?” Kyle asked.

“She’ll be sixteen. She’s a bit of a tortured artist herself, so I won’t shy away from anything dark. In fact, I think she might prefer a little morbidity. Like this.” He stopped in front of another of Brandon’s paintings. This one was of a scarily thin blonde model slumped over dead on her nightstand, her eyes open and horrified and a bottle of pills in her lifeless hand. Real uplifting stuff.

“What a coincidence. This is by the same artist who did the last painting you purchased,” Kyle informed his customer.

“Darlene seemed to enjoy his work.”

“Darlene? That’s your daughter?”

“Yep.” The man extended his hand and finally introduced himself. “I’m Augustus Monet, by the way.”

“Kyle Valenti.” He shook his head and couldn’t help but remark, “So, Monet, huh? No wonder you’re an art enthusiast.”

Augustus chuckled. “No relation to the Money, of course, but it’s still fun to fool the gullible people.”

“I’m sure.” Kyle decided not to admit that he’d been wondering about that. He reached up onto the wall and took down the painting Augustus was interested in. It wasn’t as large as the last one, but it was a little more expensive at six-hundred dollars. “Here you go.” He handed over the painting.

“Oh, yes, that’s just magnificent,” Augustus raved as he studied it up close. “She’ll love it. She’ll be so inspired.” He set the painting down on the floor and leaned it against the wall. “Let me write you a check,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his checkbook. Kyle watched with undeniable interest, and when August handed him the check, he inwardly leapt for joy.

“Huh,” he said, trying to act calm. “Sir . . .” The guy had just written him a seven-thousand dollar check.

“Kyle, aren’t we on a first-name basis now?”

“Right. Augustus. I know you said you have too much money, but . . .” It was really hard to protest this money. He wanted it. It was nice.

“I pay what I see fit to pay, and I’d even be willing to pay a few thousand more.” Augustus poised his pen on the next check, ready to write.

“Really?” Kyle was flabbergasted. “Oh, no, I could never ask you to do that. This is . . . this is very generous of you. I’m sure the artist will appreciate it. As do I. Do you want me to load the painting into your car for you?”

“I’ve got it.” August bent down and picked up the painting. “You have a nice day, Kyle,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing much more of each other.”

Kyle watched him walk away—or more like waddle—and brushed his thumbs over the check in his hand. “Nice guy,” he said, turning to go show Michael their latest huge profit.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lying in bed with her husband was almost enough to convince Liz her world wasn’t crashing down around her. It felt . . . nice. It felt like, even though her entire life was changing and all the Evans Hotels were already in the process of becoming Hiltons, she and Max were their own little island another nothing could change them.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked, stroking her hair.

What a role reversal. Usually she was the one who asked him that question. “Nothing,” she answered, smoothing one hand over his rock hard abs. “Everything.” The feeling of being an island started to disappear right about the time she stopped riding the waves of orgasm, and it was replaced by a far more gut-wrenching feeling as she glanced around the bedroom. So many things were gone from there now, and all that was left was their bed, their dresser, and a lamp. There was no nightstand to set the lamp on, though, so it was on the floor.

“I just feel like we’re living inside a ticking time bomb right now,” she said, “like I’m just counting down the days until this house is no longer ours.”

“Might be days, might be weeks.” He tightened his arm around her and pulled her close to his side.

“It doesn’t even feel like our house anymore,” she lamented. “Most of the furniture’s gone, everything’s taken down off the walls . . . it’s like a museum.”

He closed his eyes, looking as though he wanted to go to sleep. “The realtor says a lot of people have come to look at it,” he said, “so I bet it’ll sell soon. We’ll probably have to come down in price about a hundred-thousand, though.”

She traced a heart design over his left pectoral. She knew he had a heart, even if no one else did. “Not to stress you out even more,” she said, “but do we have any idea where we’re gonna live after we move out of here?”

He groaned.

“Because I’ve been thinking about it,” she continued, “and it’s not looking good. We have no friends, and I have no siblings. And your only sibling is Isabel, and that’s a non-option. And we can’t move in with your parents ‘cause they’re busy being dead, and we can’t move in with my parents because they hate you more than Hitler.”

His eyes snapped open and he looked offended. “Hitler?”

“Yeah. They hated you when they found out you’re a rapist, but now that they know you’re a rapist and completely broke . . . they’re seeing so much red they can’t see anything else. They’ve left me about a million voicemails begging me to divorce you, or, in the words of my dad, ‘annul the hell out of it.’”

His entire body tensed. “You’re not gonna listen to them, are you?”

“Of course not.” She tilted her head up to gaze at him reassuringly. She had never known Max to be so insecure, but lately, he had been.

“I worry about that sometimes,” he admitted.

“Well, you don’t need to, because I didn’t marry you for your money; I married you because . . .” She trailed off.

“You can’t even think of a reason,” he grunted.

“Because I love you,” she decided. She had to admit, her feelings for Max were confusing and changeable as sin, but love was the constant. “Despite all your flaws—and there are many of them—I love you so much. It’s as simple as that.”

“Nothing’s ever simple,” he grumbled. “You know that.”

She propped herself up on her forearms and stroked his cheek. “And you know you’re not gonna lose me over this. Okay?”

“I lost my best friend,” he readily pointed out.

“Well, I’m your wife. There’s a difference.” Alex hadn’t taken a vow like she had. A wedding vow wasn’t just words. It meant something. “We’re stronger together than we are apart. We just can’t let this change our relationship.”

“It’ll change everything,” he said. “I’ve never had less than a hundred-thousand dollars in my bank account, and now I’ll barely have a hundred pennies.”

She sighed. Apparently he was bound and determined to be pessimistic about all this. “I guess nothing’s gonna make you feel better right now, is it?”

He closed his eyes again. “Nope.”

“Fine.” She rolled over onto her other side and clutched their satin sheets tightly to her chest. “I’m just gonna dream that we’re back in Kamalame Cay.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kyle wiped his sweaty palms against his boxers as he sat on the bed that night, waiting for Tess to come out of the bathroom. They’d been about to get it on when she’d decided she wanted to take a pregnancy test. She had purchased about three dozen of them at the store the other day.

“Isn’t it a little early for you to be pregnant?” he called into the bathroom. She had just quit taking the pill a few days ago when they’d decided to go through with this baby thing.

“I’m just checking.” She opened the door to the bathroom and sulked out, test in hand. “It doesn’t matter. It’s turning blue. Or blue-ish.”

“Oh.” He tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. “Sorry. Looks like my little fish need to be better swimmers.”

She sat down beside him and pouted. “And the blue just keeps on coming.” She tossed the test towards the trash can but missed the mark. It landed on the floor. Kyle would have picked it up had it not been something she’d just peed on.

“Look on the bright side,” he said. “Now we get to keep on trying, and we’ve been having a lot of fun trying.”

“Oh, really? You can’t even get it up.”

“Yes, I can.” He looked down at his feet and noticed he’d done a shoddy job hiding his pornographic magazine. He tried to inconspicuously slide it under the bed with his foot, but she saw what he was doing.

“Is that Playboy?” she shrieked. “Were you looking at Playboy to get aroused?”

“It’s actually Girls Gone Wild magazine,” he said, picking it up for her to see. “Okay? It’s a lot less tasteful.”

“Whatever.” She grabbed the magazine and threw it aside. “Let’s just have sex.” She rolled over onto her back, kicked off her panties, and lifted her nightgown up.

“No foreplay?” he asked.

“No, let’s just do it.”

He made a face. “Did we switch genders or something? ‘Cause I kinda feel like we switched genders.” She was a girl. She was supposed to want foreplay.

“We need to have as much sex as possible to increase our conception chances,” she said, sounding like a textbook or a how-to Internet article. “Let’s go.”

He felt his arousal diminishing with every second, not because she didn’t look good lying there half-naked, but because of the situation as a whole.

“What?” she asked impatiently.

“Nothing, I just feel like it’s all about you being pregnant right now and I’m just a sperm donor.”

She sat up and stared at him in disbelief. “How can you think that? You’re gonna be our baby’s father.”

He knew that, but still . . .

“Kyle, if you’re having second thoughts about this, we need to have a serious talk.”

“No, we said we were gonna do this, so let’s do it.” He snapped the waistband of his boxers, ready to strip down.

“Kyle . . .”

He sighed heavily. Damn it all to hell, he’d gone and lost his erection. That hardly ever happened, but he hated when it did. “I gotta go look at my magazine,” he said, standing up and taking Girls Gone Wild into the bathroom with him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At BAE Advertising, Isabel met with Arthur Miller, a middle-aged, highly respected businessman who was her prospective employer. The man was a horrendous sight to look at—fat as Carnie Wilson before the gastric bypass and donning a toupee worse than Trump’s. The only good thing about him was that he was in desperate need of a new personal secretary, and he seemed interested in hiring her. She sat across from him in his office, smiling politely and answering all his interview questions calmly and rationally. It was almost too easy.

“So Isabel,” Arthur said, “now that you’ve told me about your strengths and values, tell me, what’s your biggest weakness?”

Inwardly, she scoffed at the question. Weakness? Whatever. “Well, I guess the cliché answer would be to say that I’m a perfectionist,” she joked, trying to stall for time while she came up with something. “But I’m not really a perfectionist; I’m just perfect.” She laughed a little, but he didn’t, so she quickly added, “Kidding.” Although she really wasn’t. “Um . . .” She mentally kicked herself for saying ‘um.’ Words like that were signs of uncertainty and made her look bad. “I would have to say that my biggest weakness is that I sometimes get too passionate about certain things. I find something I want and I can’t think about anything else, and I don’t listen to what anyone has to say.” She thought of Michael as she said that. “But in a way, that’s also a strength, because if I’m so passionate about something, why not fight for it? It’s probably something worth fighting for.” Michael sure was.

Arthur scribbled down some notes and said, “You might change your mind about that after you’ve worked here awhile.”

“Hmm.” She realized she’d just given an answer that had nothing to do with being a secretary. It was the ultimate submissive job and would undoubtedly test her acting skills until she moved up in the company. She vowed to make her next answer better.

“Now it says here that you’re a mother,” Arthur said, studying her application form. “How old is your child?”

“He’s three and a half.” What did this have to do with anything? She was afraid she knew where he was going.

“I see. And to what extent do you foresee your role as a mother conflicting with your role as my secretary?”

“To no extent,” she answered quickly, hating this question. “My work is my work and my home is my home. They’re two totally separate spheres.” Besides, it wasn’t like she was Suzy Homemaker by any means.

“You’d be surprised how many women have said that to me only to request multiple afternoons off to pick their kids up from school.” He rolled his eyes as though it were some huge inconvenience or burden to him.

“Well, that won’t happen with me,” she assured him. “My husband’s chosen to take some time off from work and . . . be a stay-at-home dad.” She wasn’t sure how that would sit with Arthur. He seemed to adhere to the traditional, outdated gender dichotomy.

“Very well then,” he said, obviously not entirely pleased with this part of her interview. “I only have one last question. Now I called your reference from Green Leaf Advertising, and your former boss gave you glowing remarks; but I’ve never heard of Green Leaf. Can you tell me a little more about it?”

It’s a marijuana reference, she thought, holding in her laughter. “What would you like to know?” she asked in return, unwilling to give away too much information about the faux company.

“Is it in Santa Fe?” he asked.

“In the area. It’s a small company. It’s been around forever.” There. Nice, vague answer.

“Well, so have I, and it isn’t ringing a bell,” he pressed.

This interview was heading south. She had to do something to get it back on track.

“I know a lot about this industry, Isabel, but I’ve never heard of--”

Thinking quickly, she ‘accidentally’ knocked a ballpoint pen off the edge of the desk and onto the floor by moving her elbow backward. “Oops,” she said, bending down to pick it up. While she was concealed beneath his desk, she unbuttoned the second button on her already low-cut top. She smirked and sat back up, revealing a substantial amount of cleavage now. She set the pen back down on the desk and said, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

It was hard to miss how Arthur’s eyes dropped down to her breasts. He tried to conceal it by looking back up quickly, but he didn’t do a very good job of it. He sat in flustered silence for a moment, then proclaimed, “I think I have all the information I need.”

Isabel smiled at him, feeling confident that her secret weapons had just snagged her a job. Sometimes being a woman had its advantages.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Well, that was a productive class,” Lucinda muttered sarcastically.

Maria yawned, trudging outside with her. “Yep. Much sleeping.” She was going to sleep right through the next class, too, unless Michael did something to wake her up during her hour-long break in between. The probably had time for a nooner, or pre-nooner, technically.

“Hey, I figured out where I’m gonna student teach,” Lucinda blurted suddenly.

“Ooh, tell me. Maybe we’ll end up at the same place.”

“Pidmont Elementary. Or at least that’s what I’m hoping for. Fingers crossed. My daughter went to kindergarten there. It’s a nice school. We had to send her to public school after that, though, because of the cost.”

“Oh, it’s a private school?” Maria wasn’t sure about that. “It’s not, like, kilts and gay-bashing, is it?”

Lucinda laughed. “No, it’s great.”

“Okay, good. How many kindergarten classes do they have there?”

“I’m not sure. Three or four, I think. I’m gonna end up in an upper-elementary classroom, I’m sure.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Fourth grade, fifth grade, sixth. Unless that school puts sixth grade in middle school, of course.”

Maria frowned, confused. “But I thought you wanted to teach kindergarten.” Why would she student teach for another grade?

“I do,” Lucinda confirmed, “but you know how the university likes us to get exposure at a few different grade levels.”

Maria stopped walking, suddenly a bit panicked. “No, I don’t know. What’re you talking about?” She’d been so out of the educational loop ever since she’d been pregnant with Macy. Actually, she’d been out of the educational loop all her life. It wasn’t something she was naturally good at.

“If you did last year’s practicum in a kindergarten or first grade classroom, you have to do your student teaching in an upper-elementary class. Second or third grade . . . then they might be a little more lenient.”

Maria stomped her foot on the pavement. “Crap!” she swore. “I did my freakin’ practicum in a kindergarten class! So that means I’m gonna end up student teaching a bunch of ungrateful know-it-alls? Because that’s what they are at that age. That’s what I was.”

“Maria, relax. You’ll be fine,” Lucinda assured her. “Maybe you should go talk to your advisor about it if you’re so concerned.”

“Maybe,” she grumbled, mentally bitch-slapping her advisor for not telling her about this rule in the first place. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” Lucinda turned and headed towards the commuter parking lot. Maria headed in the other direction. “I hate school,” she ground out as she approached the intersection. She wasn’t watching where she was going, so she accidentally walked straight into the man in front of her. “Oh, sorry,” she apologized. He turned to look at her, and she recognized him upon second glance. “Alex?” She immediately glanced around worriedly. “Oh god, is Isabel nearby?”

He chuckled. “No, I’m alone.”

“Good, I was about to whip out my pepper spray.”

“Oh, I’ve tried that. It doesn’t work on her.”

She laughed, too. So this guy had a sense of humor. Too bad it was probably always stifled by his wife. She walked with him across the intersection and had to dodge a campus bus that was attempting to make a right turn on a red light. “I swear, one of these days I’m gonna get hit by a bus on this campus,” she said.

“I hear you get free tuition if you do.”

“Really? That’s all the motivation I need.” She breathed a sigh of relief once she set foot on the sidewalk again and continued along with her worst enemy’s seemingly decent husband. This was . . . weird. She had to attempt some small-talk.

“So, um, what’re you doing here?” she asked him. “Do you take classes?”

“Not yet, but hopefully soon,” he replied. “Take some classes, get my degree next fall, get a higher paying job than I had with Max . . .”

“Sounds like a good plan,” she remarked, secretly glad that someone else her age was even farther behind with college than even she was. “So are you gonna work full-time and go to school? That’s gonna be intense.”

“Actually, I’m taking some time off from having a job. I’m gonna concentrate on finishing school while . . .” He gulped. “. . . Isabel enters the workforce.”

“Oh, God help us all.” Hopefully she didn’t get a job that gave her control of any national security threats.

“Yeah. Alcohol helps a lot.”

“Huh,” she laughed, finding that funny until she really thought about it. That was . . . sad. “You know, Alex, if she drives you as crazy as she drives the rest of us, why don’t you just divorce her?” It seemed like a simple, long-overdue solution.

“For the same reason she doesn’t divorce me,” he said. “We’re both afraid we’ll lose custody of Garret.”

“Oh, I see.” Luckily she’d never be in that position with Michael, but being a parent herself, she could understand his reluctance. She saw his admission as an easy transition to another issue and said, “Hey, speaking of Garret . . . if you’re at school and Isabel’s at work, is he gonna be in daycare?”

“I think that’s the plan.”

“Which one?”

“Uh . . . probably Happy Hearts. I know that’s a problem.”

“No, it’s . . . it’s fine,” she assured him. “But, yeah, we did start sending Miley back there, and we told her she’s not allowed to play with Garret, and we asked the staff to keep them apart. And it has nothing to do with him; I’m sure he’s a really great kid. It’s just . . .”

He nodded. “I understand.”

She’d had a feeling he would. He seemed so much more reasonable than Isabel. “So if you could maybe do your part and tell him he’s not allowed to play with her . . .” She trailed off again.

“I’ll do that.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He was . . . nice. Not as charismatic as Michael, but that was probably due to years of marital torture. “Look, I know I don’t know you very well,” she said, “but for what it’s worth, you seem like a really good guy. I wish you didn’t have to deal with . . . your wife on a daily basis.”

“Me, too,” he agreed. “But if I wasn’t dealing with her, Michael would be, so . . .” He shrugged.

She felt a shiver race up her spine at the mere thought of it. Everything would have been different if Alex had never come to Santa Fe. And horrible. “Well, I’m going this way,” she said, motioning to the right.

“And I’m going this way,” he said, turning left towards the administration building.

“I’ll see you around,” she said, glad that he had decided to do something for himself and re-enroll in college. He’d already sacrificed so much.

He waved goodbye and headed off. She watched him go, sympathy rolling off her in waves. Poor guy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I just feel so bad for him.” Maria sat on the front counter at the gallery, chewing on a piece of black licorice. Michael wasn’t sure how she could stomach that stuff.

“I mean, it’s like he’s trapped in his own life,” she went on, kicking her legs back and forth. “It’s so easy to think of Isabel and assume she’s married to some, like, inbred demon guy, but he actually seems really nice.”

“Yeah, I think he is.” Michael sat behind Maria, leaning to the left to try to get a better view of her profile. Sure, he practically had it memorized, but when drawing or painting her, it didn’t hurt to take a second look. He scratched his pencil against his drawing paper and she kept talking.

“It’s not like I wanna be best friends with him or anything—he’s kind of quiet, and he smells like beer. But if I see him on campus, it’s nice that I don’t have to be all venomous towards him. You know? He’s nothing like Isabel.”

“No one’s like Isabel,” he said, “and I mean that in the worst way possible.”

She looked over her shoulder and noticed what he was doing. “Are you sketching me?”

“Yeah.” He smudged the pencil lines to create some shading effects and held it up for her to see. “How’s it look so far?”

“Good. But aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“I’m an artist. This is my work,” he reminded her. Truthfully, he should have been doing the weekly spot inventory, but he could do that later. When his girl stopped by, it was hard to think about anything but her.

She tapped her shoes against the counter and re-routed the conversation back to Alex. “Do you remember the exact moment you stood in the apartment and heard him say it was his baby?”

“How could I forget?” He used his pinky finger to shade around her eyes. Not too much, but just enough to show that she was wearing makeup. “Until the day I die, that’ll be one of the most vivid memories of my life.” He could still remember the confusion, the shock, and ultimately, the relief.

“And not long after that, you stood there and heard me say you were the father of my baby. That was a busy day for you.”

“Yeah, just a little bit.” He’d never forget the confusion, shock, and relief upon hearing that, either.

“You know, Alex said you’d be married to Isabel right now if he wasn’t. Do you think that’s true?”

He tried not to think about that. “I think you and I would’ve found our way back together no matter what,” he assured her.

“That’s . . . lovely, but honestly?”

“Honestly?” He set his drawing pencil down and gazed up at her. “I don’t know. Things were so screwed up back then, so many lies going on. If I’d really thought that kid was mine and I’d never found out the truth . . . I don’t know what would have happened.” He had a hard time picturing himself ever abandoning his son or even opting not to be in his life as much as possible. “The only reason I’d have been with her is obligation, but . . .” He shrugged. “I think I would’ve found out even if Alex hadn’t shown up. I never felt a connection with that baby like I did with Miley and Macy when you were pregnant. So you and I would’ve been together no matter what. It just might’ve taken longer.”

She smiled. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Thinking about the worst case scenario, though, of us not being together . . . Macy would’ve never even been born. That’s so creepy.”

Kyle came out of the back room with a folder in his hand and asked, “What’s creepy?”

“Your face,” Maria answered readily.

“The comedian, ladies and gentlemen.” Kyle set the folder down on the counter and opened it. Michael could see that it was all the information for the upcoming auction. He and Ralph, the manager at Cockadoodle-Doo, were getting everything arranged quickly.

“We were reminiscing and what-iffing,” Maria explained. “Wanna hear about my projected student teaching suckage?”

“No,” Kyle answered quickly. “Wanna hear about ‘Sex Sells?’”

“Ooh, yes. That sounds like something I’m interested in.”

Kyle handed her the folder. She took one look at it and handed it back to him. “Kyle, I don’t speak business.”

“We’re gonna have a joint silent auction with the video store next door, auction off some porn and nude artwork.”

“Kinky. I like it,” she proclaimed.

“It was my idea,” Kyle bragged.

“Wonders never cease. While we’re on the topic of sex, however . . .” She tilted her head to the side and asked in an uber-pleasant voice, “How’s the baby-making going?”

Kyle grew noticeably less enthused. “We just started,” he mumbled.

“I know, I just like to be kept in the loop.”

He sighed and confessed, “It’s . . . off to a rocky start. But it’ll smooth out. Tess will probably be less of a pain in the ass once she’s pregnant.”

“Ha!” Maria laughed.

Michael shook his head. “Dream on.” A pregnant woman’s mood swings could kill a man. Maria’s had been particularly bad when she’d been carrying Miley.

****

A double Whopper and large French fries. What his woman wanted his woman got. Even at 1:00 a.m. Michael was heading through the parking lot with Maria’s fast food in hand when all of a sudden, a familiar birthday cake fell down from above. He had to jump out of the way as it splat-landed right beside him. He looked up and saw his supposedly hungry baby mama standing on the balcony of their apartment.

“Maria!” he shrieked. “What the hell? You just threw half your birthday cake out the window!”

“I’m sorry, I was aiming for the trash can.”

He looked around. The trash can was over thirty feet away. “Why’d you do that?” he asked.

“Because it was taunting me!” she called to him dramatically. “It was saying, ‘Eat me, eat me,’ and I don’t need to eat anymore ‘cause I’m already
huge!”

He helplessly held up the sack of food from Burger King. Had he just taken a late night drive for nothing? One minute she was hungry, and the next minute food was her worst enemy. Thank God they only had two more months of this.

“Throw Shamoo back in the ocean!” she wailed.

“You’re not Shamoo.” He wanted to go inside and try his best to calm her down, but he was reluctant to do so in case she launched herself off that balcony next. You never knew what a pregnant woman’s hormones would cause her to do.

“Oh my god, that cake could’ve killed someone!” she yelled, changing from angry to sad in an instant. “It could’ve landed on a puppy or a baby. I could’ve killed a baby! I’m gonna be a horrible mom!” She sank down onto her bottom and cried.

“Maria--”

And just like that, her mood went from sad to happy. She quit crying and smiled down at him. “Hey, this is kinda like Shakespeare with you down there and me up here, isn’t it? ‘Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?’”

He cringed. “Romeo's right here?” Was that what she wanted him to say?

And just like that, she was ordering him to bring her food up to her. She was starving.


****

Maria frowned. “Wait a minute, did you just call your wife ‘a pain in the ass?’”

Kyle shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“So? You don’t do that. You’re the guy who fell off a park bench because you couldn’t take your eyes off her. You’re the guy who catches her when she falls. You’re the guy who proposed to her in freakin’ Hawaii. And let’s not forget that she is the girl who’s going to carry your children. She’s not a pain in the ass; she is your goddess.”

Kyle seemed a little bit afraid. He backed up from the counter and said, “I hope she doesn’t mind if I concentrate on the auction right now, though. That’s my priority. That’s okay, right?”

No, Michael thought. That’s not okay. Maybe under normal circumstances that would be okay, but when there was pregnancy or attempted pregnancy involved, it was a violation of the unspoken rules.

“Hmm,” Maria said. “Michael, what’re your priorities?”

“My kids, my future wife, sex with my future wife, my family and friends, sleep, more sex, and my job,” he listed obediently. “In that order.” It wasn’t just what Maria wanted to hear, though; it was true.

“Good boy.” Maria patted him on the head.

“Tess is a priority, too,” Kyle insisted. “She knows that.”

“Does she?” Maria pressed, and Kyle didn’t have a response.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“No. He acts like having sex with me is some big chore,” Tess vented as she folded up her laundry. “And that can’t be true. Look at me.” Tess gestured to her petite frame and stylish appearance. “I’ve never looked better.”

Maria had to agree. Tess had actually lost weight since high school, and she looked better now than she did then, an incredible feat since she’d been voted Most Beautiful by the widest margin in Roswell High history.

“It’s my hair, isn’t it?” she said, suddenly second-guessing herself. She held out her strands and said, “I should do something different with my hair.”

“Your hair’s a constant source of envy for me,” Maria informed her. “Don’t change it.” It was the perfect color, perfect length, perfect texture. “Look, I told Kyle he needs to be a little more engaged in this process. Maybe you need to back off a little, don’t be so pushy.”

“Pushy?” She made a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about face. “I’m not pushy.”

“But that’s how he perceives it. You know how guys are. They get overwhelmed. They’re so fragile.”

“Not Michael,” she pointed out. “You’re all, ‘fatherhood at twenty-one?’ and he’s all, ‘Okay, world’s greatest dad.’”

“Michael didn’t have time to get overwhelmed. Both my pregnancies came out of nowhere.”

“I wish that would happen to me.”

“So I envy your hair and you envy my combined seventeen months of pregnant torture?” Maria shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.” She’d done her part in this Kyle and Tess situation. Now they had to work it out themselves while she went and got laid.









TBC . . .

-April
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LOVE IS MICHAEL AND MARIA.
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