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

[April]

Ellie:

Awesome! And congrats on finding your niche in life early on. I'm sadly still trying to find mine

Oh, you'll find yours when you're ready. I'm still not a full-time teacher yet, so who knows if it's actually my niche or not.

Somebody really needed to tell Alex to get his act together. But on the flip side, I could see Alex's POV as well when he confronted Michael. He did overstep his boundaries and is giving the psycho a false sense of security in his feelings in regards to her.

Yeah, I think they both made some valid points, but it's hard to listen to/respect what Alex has to say sometimes because he's so fucked up. No one wants advice or insight from him.

Oh ... this is going to get worse before it gets better, isn't it?

Well, it usually does.

Farrah:

Okay - I can't believe I'm actually writing this - but...I hope Liz cheats on Max.

Whoa, I can't either!

I respect the fact that Max is becoming a more decent human being, but he's forgotten to take his wife along on his journey of self improvement. He's shut her out - barely acknowledges her.

Exactly. Max seems like he kind of just expects Liz to tag along on his road to possible redemption, because she's always supported him, believed in him, and put up with him, even when no one else has. But she's had to put up with a lot lately, so she's getting fed up with the way he just expects this of her, and he's getting frustrated at her for not fulfilling that expectation. And of course they're not really talking to each other about it, sort of like how Tess and Kyle aren't talking about their problems.

And now she's got this good looking, kind guy giving her the "eyes" - I don't blame her for being interested.

Yeah, that definitely contributes. He's so different from both Max and Liz that it attracts her.

BB:

I think you would be the coolest teacher - or you'd tie with Alison at any rate.

Well, Alison's going to be an elementary teacher, right? And I'll be a high school teacher, so she can be the coolest elementary teacher and I can be the coolest high school teacher. I hope.

Michael's dreaming. He doesn't realise how he's playing right into Isabel's hands and fuelling her crazy delusions. It's no wonder she has accepted that he belongs with Maria when his actions contradict his words. I love Michael but he has to draw a line and cut her out of his life completely. Just because Miley and Garrett are friends does not mean that he has to be involved in Isabel's life.

Isabel definitely always views every single interaction she has with Michael as a chance manipulate him, but Michael's pretty smart (most of the time), so he probably won't let himself be manipulated. Even this getting her a job thing . . . sure, it fuels her delusions of ever being with him again, but it's not something she made him do; it's something he did on his own. As long as he's making his own choices in regards to her and not letting her choose for him, then there's probably nothing to worry about.

Leila:

First, I love that you include porn in this part. Seriously, an April fic without porn makes me miss something.

All mentions of porn are dedicated to you and Ellie.

It's great that Maria and Amy have now a better relationship than in 521. Though you need to tell me what's with you and bad mama Amy in your fics.

I seriously don't know! I myself have a great relationship with my mom; she's like my best friend. So I don't know where this comes from!

It's ironic that Liz is transforming to 521-Max with all the cheating (that still has to come).

Yeah. You know, I wasn't actually planning this when I first started the fic, but as it progressed, I realized she was sort of transforming into him.

Michael always had the good life and he doesn't see how even small actions offend people like Alex. Certainly, Michael said the right things to Alex so that the guy (hopefully) changes but Michael doesn't know what it means to live in that situation like Alex and Isabel. He probably doesn't see that his goody ways aren't helping. Moreover, it's fueling Isabel's craziness and makes Alex feel less like a man.

Yeah, Michael's approach is sort of idealistic: quit drinking, fix your marriage, and then everyhting will be better. But that's so much easier said than done. They really live in a completely different world than he does, and he can't really understand where they're coming from.

Novy:

Rational thought? I'm not sure about that. I think she's pretty much rewired against it. But it's a fascinating thought and that is why we all love Michael because he thinks of these things. lol

Well, you know Michael. He tends to believe the best in Isabel because he remembers the best in Isabel. No one else can really say that.

Yeah wow, he got her a job. That's so nice. I love how he blurts out these things to Maria when he gets home. lol It never gets old.

He's learned one lesson for sure: no more secrets!

Excellent part!!! That's so cool about you and teaching. I was going to ask you how's school going. I start next Tuesday. I'm not looking forward to it.

Well, happy first day of school . . . if there is such a thing. How many semesters do you have left?

Claire:

Michael is far to good. Too often. I know he means to be helpful and it's possible he is...but I think perhaps he's doing more harm than good. He certainly doesn't seem to be helping Alex, and I had sort of hoped Alex was getting better (granted that was a while ago now).

Michael wants to help, which is nice, but he just doesn't understand that removing himself from the situation completely might be the biggest help. And yeah, as for Alex . . . he goes through his ups and downs. There are a lot of points where it seems like he'll overcome his problems, but then he reverts back to form. Maybe he'll change his ways someday.

I love Max and Liz as characters. People no, but flawed characters are so much more interesting.

I agree. That's why I'm sort of known for the flawed characters! I love writing them.

While I think Liz was good about Tiffany and Thanksgiving I still get the feeling that the conversations they have regarding Tiffany are one-sided ones. They are both saying things while only half-listening to one another.

Definitely. Tess and Kyle have always sort of been known for their miscommunication in both this fic and 521, but Max and Liz are now having their problems in that area, too.

Rodney:

April you know....it still cracks me up how you can just shoot out the names of these porno's like that Are you sure it's from just working there and never from watching?

Oh, let's be real here: It's from both.

Alex maybe a drunk and Michael may not like him but Alex is right.Isabel is just using Michael being a nice guy trying to help her out as a way to get back into his pants.

Michael may not realize or want to believe this, but yes, Isabel, being opportunistic and obsessed, is clearly loving all of this. Michael's totally in love with and devoted to Maria, though, so he's not going to allow her to get anywhere close to his pants.



Thank you for the feedback!








Part 60








“Okay, you ready?”

Miley nodded nervously.

“You gonna remember everything we told you?”

She nodded again.

“Alright, let’s try it out.” Maria took her daughter’s hand and carefully led her down the stairs. “Scenario: You wake up in the morning and come down here, and then you see . . .” They walked into the living room where Michael was lying flat on the floor, pretending to be unconscious. “This. What do you do?”

“Daddy!” Miley ran towards him and bent down, shaking him to try to wake him up.

“Okay, so that’s not working. Now what do you do?”

“Mama!” She got up and ran towards Maria.

“But I’m not here,” she reminded, hiding behind the stairwell.

“Aunt Tess! Uncle Kyle!” Miley ran towards the door.

“Okay, say you run over there, but they’re not home, either,” Maria continued to narrate. “Then what?”

Miley stood in place confusedly for a minute, then ran into the kitchen and grabbed the landline phone they never used. She pointed to the numbers on the keypad.

“Yep,” Maria said nodding. “Okay, don’t really press the buttons right now, but if you were really calling, you’d press the buttons. And they’ll ask you what’s wrong. What would you tell them?”

“My Daddy,” she replied.

“What about him?”

“He’s hurt.”

“Is he breathing?”

She looked over at her dad. “I don’t know, he’s on the floor.”

“And they’ll stay on the phone with you until the ambulance gets here.” Maria decided that was enough for one day. Michael was doing a really good job acting unconscious, and poor Miley was probably starting to think it was real. “Alright, I think you passed,” she decided.

Michael sat up on the floor. “Good job, Miley.”

She handed the phone to Maria and mumbled, “I don’t like that.”

“Don’t worry, you probably won’t ever have to do it,” Michael assured her. “Just in case.”

“We’re gonna keep practicing,” Maria informed her, setting the phone back down on the receiver. “You did really good.”

She walked over to Michael and hugged him, still looking nervous. But when the front door opened and her uncle walked in, her face lit up. “Uncle Kyle!” she exclaimed, rushing towards him.

“Hey, Miles.” They did some sort of secret handshake thing Maria didn’t know they had, and then Miley pouted and said to Maria, “You said he wasn’t home.”

“Well, that was just for the lesson,” Maria explained.

“Lesson?” Kyle echoed.

“Safety lesson. We were teaching her how to use 911,” Michael explained.

“Safety lesson, huh?” Kyle echoed. “Well, you’re not very safe down there! Hi-yah!” He jumped on top of Michael, doing some kind of body-chop wrestling maneuver.

“Oh!” Michael groaned.

“Come on, man, WWE. Let’s go,” Kyle taunted.

Maria rolled her eyes. Boys would be boys, she supposed. Even Michael and Kyle liked to beat on each other from time to time, though she’d never know the appeal in it.

Michael pushed Kyle off and jumped on top of him, pressing the side of his face flat against the floor. “WWE, huh?”

“Dude, let me win for once.”

“No, you don’t mess with me.”

“You guys are weird,” Maria remarked, shaking her head.

“Wait, Maria,” Kyle said, his face smashed against the carpet. “I actually came here for a reason.” When Michael got up and let go of him, Kyle groaned and got to his feet as well. “Damn, I think I pulled a muscle,” he said.

“What’s up?” Maria asked him impatiently. She had unit plan stuff she really needed to finish working on.

“Well, Tess and I just ate an entire dinner in silence.”

“Whoa,” Michael said, sounding shocked.

“Yeah, whoa,” he agreed. “And I’m not kidding. Total, complete silence. That’s never happened before.”

Maria sighed, resigning herself to best-friend duty before unit plan work. “Okay, I’ll go talk to her.”

“Thank you,” Kyle said gratefully.

As Maria was slipping on her sandals and heading out the door, she heard Michael tell Miley, “Kill Uncle Kyle,” and she ran at him a second later hollering, “Kill Uncle Kyle!” She tackled him to the floor and he started screaming like a little girl.

Things were a lot less energetic when Maria walked into Tess’s house. It was quiet and still. Tess was loading dishes into the dishwasher.

“So I heard about the silent dinner,” she started in. The response she got was a similar silence, and she was fed up with it. Tess had spent their entire Thanksgiving barely saying anything, and when she had said something, it had been downright depressing. “Okay, would you just . . . snap out of it?” she said sharply. “So Kyle’s not ready to have a baby yet. At least he’s finally being honest with you. And I know you’re upset, but--”

“No, Maria, you don’t know,” Tess snapped, slamming the dishwasher shut. “You have kids. You have a family.”

“You have a family, too,” Maria pointed out. “We have the same family, Tess; and FYI, you have a wedding ring and a college degree, so at least you’re doing things in the right order.”

Tess lowered her head and turned the dishwasher on. “I just feel like such a mess right now,” she whimpered. “Kyle and I have been so in love for so many years, and when we got married, I thought it would always be some fairytale. But it’s not.” She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “Maybe you and Michael had the right idea by doing things out of order.”

“Well, it’s not like we did it this way on purpose.” She loved her life, but it wasn’t without its challenges. “Look, you play the hand you’re dealt,” she said, “and you’ve been dealt a pretty good hand. Things could be a lot worse.”

“I know,” she said. “I know that. I just can’t help feeling sorry for myself. I want something so bad and I just . . . don’t have it.”

“Yet,” Maria added. “Kyle wants to have kids with you someday. Although if you keep this misery routine up, he might change his mind.”

Tess looked at her fearfully, thought about it for a moment, and nodded. Maria had a feeling she’d just gotten through to her.

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

On Saturday, Michael and Kyle went to the gallery because they had to do their bi-monthly spot inventory. It was a pain in the ass to do, but if they woke up early, they were usually done by noon. They were just finishing up when Isabel knocked on the door.

“Don’t do it,” Kyle said, but Michael was already heading towards the door. She could see them inside. He couldn’t just ignore her or she’d never go away.

“Hey,” she said when he unlocked the door.

“Hey,” he returned. She was dressed up, so he figured she’d just had her interview with Ralph. “We’re not actually open right now,” he told her.

She slipped inside anyway and said, “Hi, Kyle.”

He stared at her confusedly. “Hi?”

“How are you?” she asked him. Michael wasn’t sure she was being fake-friendly or actually friendly.

“Fine.” He motioned back to his office and told Michael, “I’m gonna be back there.”

Michael nodded. He couldn’t blame Kyle for wanting to be elsewhere. Conversations between him and Isabel were weird enough for him, let alone for a spectator.

Once they were alone, Isabel smiled and said, “I got the job.”

“That’s good,” Michael said. “You’ll like having Ralph as a boss. He’s a nice guy.”

“I think I’ll like the free rentals even more.” She grinned. “So I start training tomorrow, and in a few days, I’ll be on my own. All alone in the store while things go bump in the night. Kinda scary.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t scare you.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. “Thanks again, for finding me this job.” She reached out to touch his arm, but he backed away.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “Seriously, don’t mention it.”

“That must mean Maria’s not too thrilled about this.”

“No, she’s not,” he admitted. “But don’t get your hopes up, because she’s not all that mad, either. She’s focused on her mom being cancer-free.”

“Cancer?” she echoed. “Her mom had cancer?”

He nodded.

“I forgot about that.”

“Well, everyone has problems.”

“Even you?”

He nodded again.

“But if she’s cancer-free, I guess that’s not a problem anymore,” she said.

“Nope.”

“Good. That’s . . . really good for you. And for her and . . .” She forced a smile. “For Maria.”

“It is,” he agreed, hoping she’d leave soon. Small-talk with Isabel was just weird.

“Look, Michael, I just wanna say, I feel really good about this,” she said, shifting the topic of conversation away from Amy. “We’ve spent the past few years living completely separate lives, and it’s been really hard on me. It’s nice that we’re finally getting to the point where we can be--”

“Don’t say it,” he cut in.

She smiled. “Friends. I mean, unless you wanna be lovers.”

“I really don’t.”

“That’s fine,” she said. “I can keep my hormones in check.”

He made a face. She could? Since when?”

“Prepare to be surprised,” she said as though she were reading his mind.

“Isabel . . .” He shook his head. “We’re not friends. We’ve never been friends. We’re never gonna be.” They had gone straight from meeting to dating. Maybe that had been part of the problem.

“So then what are we?” she asked.

“Just not enemies.” He hoped that was enough for her, because that was all he had to offer.

She nodded slowly and said, “I’ll take what I can get.” She smiled at him again and purposefully brushed against him as she left the gallery. Michael breathed a sigh of relief once she was gone. He knew better than to think that being anything less than lovers would ever satisfy her. But at least he’d told her what was what and left no room for debate.

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

“Oh my god, this is appalling,” Maria said, staring at the television with wide eyes and her mouth agape. “I’m appalled. Look at these little girls. They look like teenagers.”

Kyle nodded in agreement, adding, “Slutty teenagers.” He was sitting in Michael and Maria’s living room with them that night watching Little Miss Perfect on WE. He had never seen it before, and he wished they had never channel-surfed to it in the first place. It was legitimately horrifying the way these mothers dressed their kids up like little adults and forced them to compete in beauty pageants.

“That girl looks older than me!” Maria shrieked, pointing to the screen.

“What’s that thing on her head?” Michael wondered aloud. “Is that an animal, or . . .”

“It’s fake hair, man,” Kyle informed him. “God, if this isn’t motivation to steer your kids away from the pageant world, I don’t’ know what is.”

“Look at these moms,” Maria said, shaking her head in dismay. “It’s like they’re all living vicariously through their daughters. If I ever start to get like that, just kill me.”

“Gladly,” Kyle said as the little girls walked up on stage to hear the results. “Oh, hello, Jonbenet. How have you been?”

“Ew, this is so creepy!” Maria exclaimed as the pageant director started to sing the Little Miss Perfect theme song. “Why is that guy singing? He’s like a pedophile. Get away from them!”

“I . . . I’m speechless,” Michael said, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Oh, Little Miss Perfect, you’ve shown us a whole new breed of terror.” Kyle stood up and watched as the runners-up and winners were crowned. “Well, as fascinating as this show is, I’d better get home,” he decided. “My wife’s silent treatment awaits me.”

“Good luck with that,” Maria said, her eyes glued to the TV as well.

Kyle left the two of them to the show that modeled how not to be parents and headed out and across the front yards. When he stepped inside, he kicked off his shoes and said, “Hey, Tess, have you ever seen Little Miss Perfect? It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” He was really hoping that would spark some conversation. Tess had done a few beauty pageants as a kid, and that was better to talk about than nothing at all. “Tess?” he called, looking around. She wasn’t downstairs, but her car had been in the driveway, so she was either asleep upstairs or ignoring him. “And it begins,” he mumbled, resigned to talking to himself all night long.

“I’m up here!” she called back suddenly.

He smiled, encouraged by that. Maybe the silent treatment wasn’t beginning after all.

When he got upstairs, he found her in their bedroom. She had lit candles all over the room and scattered rose petals on the mattress. She was sitting in the middle of the bed wearing a thin, silky, white slip and apparently nothing else.

“Wow,” he said. She was literally breathtaking, as he stopped breathing when he saw her. “What’s this?”

“It’s my apology,” she replied, rubbing her legs together.

“For what?”

“For being so hard to deal with lately.” One of the straps of her slip slid down, but she didn’t bother to push it back up. “Maria talked some sense into me yesterday. I know I’ve been a pain, and I’m sorry. I wanna make it up to you.”

“You mean by . . .” He trailed off. “Oh. Tonight?”

She nodded excitedly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She patted the empty space beside her.

“That’s really . . .” He slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling tense.

She reached out to touch his shoulder. “Don’t you want to?”

He moved a bit further away. “Yeah, of course.”

She frowned, sitting up straighter. “No, you don’t.”

It was hard to admit, but he couldn’t lie to her. “No, I don’t.”

She looked away, starting to tear up.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “This is . . . wow. And you look . . . wow. And we will do this when we’re ready. But we’re working through one of the biggest disagreements of our marriage. I just think we need to take things slow.”

“Why do we have to wait for everything?” she whined.

“Just for a week or so, a few more days,” he assured her.

“I thought you’d wanna be with me.”

“I do,” he promised. “In a few more days.” He cupped her cheek in his hand and said, “Hey. I love you.”

She smiled shakily.

“We could watch a movie tonight,” he suggested. “Mean Girls? It’s a classic. I swear I dreamt up the storyline before anyone else even thought of it. That’s when I knew I was funny.”

She laughed a little. “Mean Girls. Sure.”

“Okay.” He took her hand in his and helped her up. “Yeah, that was back before Lindsay Lohan got screwed up. Back when she was hot. But you’re hotter.” He put his arm around her and hugged her to his side as they headed downstairs. For the first time since Miley had fallen in the pool, he felt like things were going to be okay between them. It was just going to take time.

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

“You take a lock out of the drawer, stick it in the case, slide it on down the counter,” Ralph instructed, demonstrating for Isabel the process of checking in movies once the customers returned them. “Then you take out another lock, stick it in the next case, slide it on down the counter.”

“Repeat until bored to death,” she mumbled.

“It’s not very exciting,” he agreed.

“Oh, I’m just kidding,” she assured him. “I could never be bored here, not with all this porn around.”

He chuckled. “There’s a portable DVD player under the counter. I don’t mind if you watch the movies while you’re working. Just make sure you’re not doing that when any customers are here.”

“Got it.” She couldn’t wait to see what all this porn did for her sex life. She was already skilled, but now she was going to learn even more tricks of the trade.

“So after you’ve checked in all the returns and locked the cases, you alphabetize them,” Ralph went on.

“Why?”

“So that when you’re re-shelving them on the new release wall, you can just go in order, get it done faster,” he explained.

“Makes sense.” She picked up one of the movies and read the laughable title aloud. “Her First Big Black One?” She hadn’t had a black one since high school. She picked up another movie and couldn’t hold the laughter in. “Filthy Asians?” This was going to be the most entertaining job. The only downside was the uniform. She had to wear that obnoxious black polo shirt with the rooster on it and khakis every day.

“That one’s great,” Ralph said unabashedly.

“You’re gonna be the best boss I’ve ever had.” He was nice and perverted, but not into her. Totally the opposite of Arthur Miller.

“Looks like you’ve got your first customer,” he said, lifting the small stack of alphabetized movies.

She spun around and smiled when she saw Billy. Michael would have been better, but Billy was good enough. He had that mischievous look in his eyes, like he wanted to have sex in a public place.

“Hi,” she greeted as Ralph walked along the new release wall, re-shelving the videos. “Welcome to Cockadoodle-Doo. Can I help you find something today?”

“I’m sure you can.” Billy grinned and leaned over the counter. “So, tell me something: Why’s it called Cockadoodle-Doo?”

“Porn. Cock. Figure it out,” she suggested. “So how’d you know I was working here?”

“Oh, Lorenzo’s a top customer at this place. He found out and told me.” He motioned to her shirt and said, “Nice rooster.”

“Thanks.” She could make any stupid uniform look hot.

“Did you sleep with him?” he asked quietly, motioning to Ralph.

“No, he’s cool. I didn’t even have to show any cleavage. He just gave me the job.”

“How’d you end up here?”

“A friend told me about it.” She glanced over Billy’s shoulders at C4. The gallery wasn’t open on Sundays.

“A friend?” he echoed.

“Well, a not enemy.”

“And it’s right next to Guerin’s gallery. That’s funny how that worked out.”

“It is,” she agreed, leaning over the counter to peer down at the bulge in Billy’s pants. Oh, yeah, this was definitely a booty call. “So how can I help you?” she asked, slipping back into salesperson mode.

“Well . . .” He cleared his throat. “I’m here to rent some porn.”

“Clearly.”

“I like blonde actresses with tremendous breasts.”

“You mean like these?” She unbuttoned the top two buttons on her shirt, grazing her fingertips over her cleavage.

“Just like those,” he said, licking his lips.

“Hmm, I think what you’re looking for is in the backroom.”

“Backroom?” he echoed.

“Yeah, it’s where we keep our most graphic porn.”

“Graphic can be good.”

She grinned and led him through the store towards the room marked ‘21 and up.’ Roger gave her an encouraging thumbs up, and she smiled at him as she and Billy slipped inside. Little did he know she was selling herself more than the movies.

Billy swept her up in his arms and kissed her once the door was shut. They were going to have to be quick and quiet, and he was going to have to rent something by the time they were all done. He was her first customer, after all. She needed the transaction to be a success.








TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Oh, I feel bad about dropping down to weekly updates. Really, I do. I don't like it; it feels unnatural. But until I get more written, that's what I have to do.


Leila:

Those Little Miss...pageants also freak me out though it's not part of the European culture (Thank God for that). It's freaky and creepy at the same time. But I give it some years and it will be part of "entertainment" here. BARF!

Yeah, it's all really disturbing. Here we've got Toddlers and Tiaras, too. I hate to say it, but even though I'm disgusted by the way they dress those girls up like mini-prostitutes and parade them around the stage, I've laid on the couch all afternoon and watched episode after episode of Little Miss Perfect before.

I wonder how Billy will find out that Michael got Isabel the job.And how Michael will react seeing Billy, again?

I don't remember if either of those things happens or not!

Ellie:

O.k. I'm all for sex in the workplace - cause it is kinda hot when it's spontaneous, but Isabel give it that sleaze factor that just makes it dirty and utterly reprehensible. Ugh

Yeah, it's gross when it involves Isabel and Billy. I haven't written any M+M sex in the workplace scenes in this fic so far, have I? Hmm, might just have to do that if I can find a place to squeeze it in.

Great lesson to be teaching Miley, especially at her age. Wow ... great job as parents Michael and Maria!

Well, considering all of the near-death situations she's been in lately, it's probably good knowledge for her to have.

BB:

Something very strange happened to my computer while I was reading the update because it said that Kyle turned down sex. I'm taking it to be repaired now.

You comedian.

While I'm glad that Tess has stopped acting like a spoiled brat I'm suspicious of her motives. Is she really over it, or is this just another way to manipulate Kyle and get what she wants?

Hmm, you'll have to wait and find out. All I'll say is that I haven't stopped putting Tess and Kyle through the ringer yet. Haven't stopped.

Isabel is starting to think more and more like a prostitute. A crazy, psycho prostitute. I don't like her being so close to Michael all the time. It's too close and gives her too much scope to worm her way back into his life.

Well, luckily Billy is taking it upon himself to, uh . . . distract her then.

Novy:

You know how you never do things without a purpose? The fact that Miley is being trained on how and when to dial 911 scares me April. lol

I wondered who would give me the slightly panicked reaction to that scene. True, I never do things without a purpose. But sometimes I do. Well, regardless of whether Miley ever needs to use 911 or not, it's good knowledge for a little girl like her to have.

The irony that the guy that runs the porn shop is the only one that doesn't treat Isabel like a piece of meat is not lost by me. It's fascinating how that works out. I hope he doesn't turn sleazy too.

Ralph is a nice guy and will stay that way. He's the perfect boss for Isabel right now.

I'm only going part time so I have a long time left still. But I'm in my third year though. So I'm making some kind of progress.

Good! Sometimes I've felt like I'll never graduate college, but I'm in the home stretch now! You'll get there, too.

Rodney:

Sorry but I'm just not getting Kyle here.....

He doesen't want a kid,Tess does and it's put a strain on their relationship...okay I got that.They're supposed to be on their way onto making up so Tess threw him that late night surprise and he....turned her down because they need to take it slow?! WTF?! They're not dating and planning their first time together.....they're married and his wife wanted a romantic night....where does the need to 'take things slowly' come into play in that?

I would have understood had he said "I'm not in the mood".....But we need to take things slow? I am completly lost without a map in Kyle's thought complex right now!!

Well, I think Kyle feels very distanced and disconnected from Tess right now, but he wants to close that distance, naturally. He doesn't want to just rush across that distance, though, and be with her in that way until they've really made amends. He wants to fix the problems and then be intimate. He feels like, rather than taking huge leaps and bounds towards getting back to normal, they should be taking baby steps (no pun intended) to make sure that, when they have a night like that again, it's because they both want it, not because she needs it.

To be honest I'm not quite sure who is going to be the biggest ticking time bomb here....Isabel or Billy?

Well, they're both obsessed people, so . . . it's anyone's guess.

On a happier note I liked how Miley and Kyle had a secret handshake..that is so some thing this Kyle would have with her For he will always have that childish part to him that others make fun of but makes him great with kids(Which I find ironic seeing how he doesent want one at the moment)

Oh, yeah, Kyle would make a great dad. Like you said, he has that childish part of him.

Sundae: Part 26, huh? You're making progress! I think you'll be caught up in no time. Some of these updates are pretty fast reads.


Thanks for the feedback! I really appreciate it.








Part 61








Max took Garret to the park the next morning. He had time to kill before work, and he hadn’t hung out with his nephew one-on-one for awhile. He brought along a football, figuring he was old enough to start doing a few athletics. Garret seemed more interested in chasing after birds, though. They flew away whenever he waddled within two feet of them, but he kept up his pursuit. There was a gleam in his eyes, a spark of innocence. Max sat on a bench, watching him, wondering if he’d ever looked so innocent as a young boy.

“I don’t think you’re gonna catch ‘em, buddy,” he said as Garret lunged for a robin and fell flat on his face. “You alright?”

Garret picked himself up and brushed off his pants. “Yeah,” he said, running back towards Max. “Can we go get toys?”

“Toys?” Max echoed. “You wanna go to the toy store?”

Garret nodded excitedly.

Max sighed heavily, feeling as though he were letting the kid down. “Alright, come here.” He lifted Garret up onto his knee and tried his best to explain things in a way a three and a half year-old could understand. “I know I used to buy you lots of toys and take you to Disney World and stuff. But I can’t do that anymore, because I don’t have enough money.” He studied Garret’s face and started to get concerned when the unhappy frown appeared. “Are you okay?”

Garret mumbled, “You don’t like me anymore.”

“What?” Max couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Garret . . .”

“Mommy says you like Tiffany better. You’re gonna play with her and forget all about me.”

He shook his head, resisting the urge to scream at the top of his lungs. “I hate your mom.” He could picture her saying something so insensitive to her own son, making him fret about something that wasn’t even true. She’d always been jealous of their bond. “Listen, Garret, that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” he assured the little boy. “I like Tiffany; I do. And I want her to be in my life. But you and me . . .” He ran his hand through Garret’s hair, making it curlier than it already was. “We’ve always been there for each other, and that’s never gonna change. You’re my nephew, the only one I’ll ever have.” He lowered his head and spoke in a quieter voice when he said, “I love you, Garret.” Because he did. He really did.

Garret turned around and hugged him tightly. “Love you, too, Uncle Max.”

He smiled. It felt so good to hear those words from someone who didn’t know about hate, disappointment, or cruelty yet, someone who really meant it.

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

Every time Maria left her methods class, another little part of her died. The hopeful parts, the parts that actually believed she and the sorority bitches could put together a decent unit plan . . . those were gone. She was pretty much resigned to having to do all the work herself. There was one in every group, a person who ended up putting the entire team on their backs. She had never been that person until now.

“Is your unit plan group making you do all the work?” she asked Lucinda as they headed outside.

“Yes,” Lucinda replied, clearly just as exasperated about the assignment. “It’s like they think I’m more responsible since I’m older.”

“I know. It’s ridiculous. I hate my group,” Maria lamented. “Their top priority is recruiting for their damn sorority. Mine’s raising a family. What’s more important?”

“They just don’t get it,” Lucinda said. “Hey, when we turn in the finished products, we should tell the professor we did all the work.”

“We should,” Maria agreed. “I’ll see you, girl.”

Lucinda waved goodbye, and they went in separate directions. Maria hurriedly skipped across the street while the ‘walk’ sign was still showing. She spotted Liz strolling down the sidewalk, texting something on her cell phone, a big grin on her face that stretched from ear to ear. She went up to her, not because she particularly wanted to talk to her, but because she was a good Samaritan and she’d promised to help Liz out with the Valenti Designs impending doom situation.

She tapped her former friend on the shoulder and announced, “I got a client for you.”

Liz turned around, dazedly glancing up from her phone. “Oh, hi, Maria.”

“Hi. Did you hear what I just said?”

“What?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “I got you a client. A design client. Two, actually. Aren’t you still trying to save your job?”

“Uh-huh.” She sounded distracted.

“Well, I know these two girls, Charity and Chastity. I can’t stand either one of them, but they have a lot of money to spend and an entire sorority house to spend it on. All they talked about today was how much they wanna renovate it before they graduate. So there you go. Clientele.”

“Right,” Liz said, texting while talking. “Thanks.”

“I thought you’d be more excited.”

“Oh, I am. Thank you, Maria,” she said again. “You know, I actually found another client, too, so this is great.”

“Who’d you find?” Maria asked, and before Liz could even reply, she got her answer in the form of a rough-around-the-edges collegiate who came up to Liz and greeted her with a friendliness in his eyes and a light-hearted “Hey” on his lips.

Maria took a step back. Who’s this? she wondered.

“Hey,” Liz returned, smiling at Maria. “I found him.”

“Him,” Maria echoed. Him was . . . attractive. That always sent up a red flag.

“Maria, this is my friend Brandon. Brandon, this is Maria,” Liz introduced the two of them. “She was one of my bridesmaids.”

“Reluctantly,” Maria added. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Brandon returned.

“Maria’s actually engaged to Michael from the art gallery,” Liz told him.

“Oh, really? I had paintings there.”

“I remember.” She also remembered that Brandon’s paintings had been purchased by Augustus Monet, con man extraordinaire.

“Small world,” Brandon remarked.

“Very.”

Liz just smiled and nodded. “Well, we should get going,” she finally said after a bit of an awkward silence.

“Where you headed?” Maria asked.

“To my place,” Brandon replied.

“For design purposes,” Liz clarified quickly. “Bye, Maria.”

Maria hoisted her heavy backpack higher on her shoulders and watched the ‘friends’ walk away. Brandon said something to Liz that made her laugh, and then she playfully hit his shoulder. He ended up bending down so that she could jump on his back, and he carried her towards the parking lot. There was something very strange going on there, and Maria had a feeling Max didn’t know about it. Because if he did, he’d put an end to it right away.

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

When Liz stepped foot in Brandon’s house, she realized just how much she missed having a house of her own. His wasn’t as big as hers had been of course, but it was in a nice neighborhood not far from where Michael and Maria lived. It was ranch style, had a nice backyard, and sat across the street from a church. It reminded her of the home where she’d grown up with two parents who loved her and supported her no matter what. Memories like that were good to have when the reality couldn’t compare.

“Wow,” Liz said, looking around the nearly empty living room. “It’s very . . . white.” The walls were white, the carpet was white, and the only furniture Brandon had were two blue beanbag chairs and a ten-inch antenna TV.

“Feels like an insane asylum, right?” Brandon said, kicking his shoes off. “That’s why I need your help.”

“Well, Tess’s help,” Liz corrected. “I don’t really know anything about interior design. I’m just the assistant.”

“Now why do you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re unimportant.”

The way he stared at her, the way his eyes locked with hers . . . she felt like she was melting. “I kind of am,” she said, sitting down on one of the beanbags. “I’m always just Max’s wife or Tess’s assistant. Nobody really knows the real me.”

Brandon pushed the second beanbag closer to hers and sat down beside her. “I feel like I do,” he said. “You’re not unimportant. You’re . . . you’re Liz.”

The way he said her name sent shivers up her spine. Delightful ones. “I’ve always wanted to just be Liz.” It was this Liz, though, the Liz she was around him, that made her feel so good. Up until now, she’d almost forgotten this Liz existed.

“I’ve always wanted to be Superman,” he revealed.

She laughed a little. You’re such a good guy, she thought, unable to look away from him. Maybe this was what it felt like to be Maria or Tess, to want someone who was really worth wanting.

No. She tried to shake the thoughts away. She couldn’t think like that. She couldn’t want someone, not even him. “I have to go,” she decided quickly, standing up.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, standing up with her.

“I just have to go.”

He stared at her and seemed to understand.

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

Max slumped down onto the floor next to Tiffany, feeling like his kneecaps were about to pop out. “Man, those little kids are exhausting,” he groaned.

“Yeah,” Tiffany agreed.” She was curled up in the corner, a book open on her lap. Some kind of Harry Potter thing. Max had never read them.

“So how have you been since Thanksgiving?” he asked.

“Fine.”

Her eye was back to normal, but it was hard to forget how bruised and swollen it had been a week ago. “Run into any doorknobs lately?”

She set the book down. “No.”

He was thankful to hear that. But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before she got another black eye, and eventually a black eye would become something worse.

“I met with my social worker Saturday,” she told him, picking up the book again. “She said she’s gonna find me a new foster placement.”

“A placement?” Max echoed. Wasn’t it supposed to be a foster home?

“It’s good news,” Tiffany insisted.

“Yeah.” He knew it was. Or at least he hoped it was. A very large part of him was uneasy, though, and even jealous. A few months ago, he could have been her foster father easily. With all the money he’d had and the house he’d lived in, he would have been approved without problem. But now . . .

“Listen, Tiffany, I want you to know that you can come to me whenever you need me,” he told her, not even caring if he sounded corny. It was all he had to offer, all he had to give. “If you’re ever in trouble, you call me. Don’t hesitate.” He took a wrinkled gum wrapper out of his pocket and scribbled down his phone number.

“Thanks, Max,” she said, taking it from him. “But this is gonna be better. Safer doorknobs.”

“Right.” Those doorknobs could be dangerous.

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

It was a new training record. Or at least that’s what Ralph said. Even he hadn’t gone through the training so fast, and he was the freaking manager. He seemed especially impressed with the work Isabel was doing and trusted her to run the store by herself after only two days of training. He told her to call him on his cell phone if she had any problems. But she wasn’t going to have any problems. The work was simple, and she was good at it. She found that she could always convince the customers to rent an extra movie just by giving them a friendly smile. Which was better than having to give them a strip-tease.

Billy stopped by a few hours before closing. Her hormones immediately kicked into overdrive. Maybe if he stuck around enough, she could shut the lights off and they could fuck right there in the middle of the store.

“Hey,” he said, holding up a movie. “I’m just here to return She’s My Man.”

“What is that, like a strap-on thing?”

“Yep. Chicks with fake dicks. The orgy scene made me cum mad hard.”

She took the DVD from him and looked over the front cover, shaking her head. “I hope you never get this twisted.”

He made a face. “What?”

“Wanting a plastic cock in your ass.”

“Sweetheart, you know I ain’t gay.”

“Take a look at this.” She opened the door to the drop box and took out a movie someone had returned a few minutes before. On the front was a picture of a young woman fucking a middle-aged man with a strap-on penis.

“Sick,” he said, though he didn’t look away.

“I’m never doing that for you.”

“Don’t want you to.” He handed it back to her. “Besides, it’s called Wives Fucking Husbands, and you’re not . . .” He trailed off uncomfortably. “I mean, I’m not your . . .”

She rolled her eyes at his inability to complete a sentence.

“What am I to you?” he finally came right out and asked. “Did I ever get to boyfriend status?”

“I’m not sure.” She hoped he could just accept that. Billy as a boyfriend . . . it wasn’t impossible, but it was weird to even think about it.

He grabbed the Wives Fucking Husbands DVD back from her again and chuckled as he looked over the back. “You think your husband would go for this?”

“Maybe if he was drunk enough.” Alex was the passive type, so nothing was off-limits. “Go rent something,” she suggested. “I get an extra fifty bucks if I sell more than Ralph does.”

“What should I rent?”

“Well, there’s one with a guy dressed in a full-body chicken suit. There’s only one strategic hole in it, and I’ll let you guess where it is.”

He walked along the New Release wall until he found it. “This one?” he asked, holding up the case. “Cluck-Cluck Cum-Shots?”

“That’s the one.” She’d actually been tempted to watch it, just to see how ridiculous it was.

He shrugged. “Alright, sure.” He brought it up to the counter and said, “Come back to my place after you get done here and we can watch it together.”

“I don’t know . . .” Garret had been up all last night with nightmares. She’d promised him she’d get home as soon as she could to read him a bedtime story and tuck him in. Once in awhile she managed to be a stellar mother.

“Or we could make our own porn,” he suggested, licking his lips excitedly.

“That homemade stuff always ends up on the Internet.”

“No, it won’t,” he promised.

She shook her head, but inside, she was actually contemplating it. Videos could be fun. She’d come so close to convincing Michael to make one with her during sophomore year of college.

She checked Billy’s video out for him and put it in a sack for him. The guy wasn’t exactly modest, but even he probably didn’t care to be seen carrying around a video with a giant, dick-showing chicken on the front of it. “Woohoo, fifty dollars bonus,” she declared, confident that she’d just surpassed her boss’s sales number for the day. “I can pay for gas now.”

“How much you get paid here?” he asked, reaching over the counter to obnoxiously press random buttons on her computer.

“Not enough,” she muttered, swatting his hand away. “Barely above minimum wage. I actually like the work, though. It’s kinda fun.”

“Backroom’s kinda funner.”

“That’s not a word, you dumbass.” He was right, though. They’d had a lot of fun in that room already.

“Let’s make it a word,” he suggested.

She couldn’t help but laugh. Sometimes he actually did feel like a boyfriend. Like a perverted, stupid, going-nowhere-in-life boyfriend she just couldn’t seem to get rid of because, in a way, she liked having him around.

“The only thing that sucks is that most of what I make working here has to go towards Alex’s student loans,” she complained. “And bills. I don’t really have anything left over for myself.”

“So divorce him.”

She almost stumbled backwards. “What?”

“Come on, don’t tell me you never thought about it.”

He was serious. She almost couldn’t believe he was serious. “Of-of course I’ve thought about it,” she stuttered. Since when did she stutter? “I think about it all the time, but . . . I’m never gonna do it.”

“Why not?”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. How had a conversation about strap-ons and giant chickens and homemade pornography turned into a discussion about the rest of her life? And possibly his. “Where is this coming from?” she asked suspiciously.

“I just . . . I think it would solve all your problems. Or at least a lot of ‘em.”

“Or it could create new ones,” she pointed out. “I have to think about my son.”

“Yeah, growin’ up with parents who hate each other ain’t doin’ him any favors.”

“Alex doesn’t hate me,” she informed him. “He still loves me.” Of that much, she was sure. Sometimes when he looked at her, he couldn’t take his eyes away. He was twisted. “Look, I stay with him because I can’t risk losing my son. If we divorce, only one of us will get custody.”

“Yeah, you will. You’re his mom. You’re a better parent.”

“I can’t take that chance.” If for some reason Alex found a way to get sole custody . . .

“You divorce him, get your kid--”

“And then what?” she cut in vehemently. “Raise him with you? Is that what this is about?”

He backed away from the counter, looking sheepish. “No.” He kicked at the floor and started to change his tune. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Oh, please, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I thought we agreed to be more than we were before,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, more than sex. That doesn’t mean we’re gonna be some happy family. You’ve never even met Garret.”

“I want to,” he insisted, starting to sound desperate.

“No, you don’t.” She saw right through him; he was so transparent. “You just wanna be with me.” She had always feared this. She probably never should have started this thing with him, but it was supposed to have been easy.

“Is that so bad?” he shot back, sounding angry now. “Considering how Guerin doesn’t wanna be with you, I’m inclined to say no.”

Now he was bringing Michael into it? He was trying to use her own feelings against her, and she was too smart to let that happen. “If you even think for one second that you’re any kind of substitute for him . . .”

“I don’t,” he said. “I’m just tryin’ to think about what’s best for you and your kid.”

“And you,” she added.

He slammed his fist down on the counter. “Dammit, Isabel. Alex weighs you down. He’s a burden.”

That much was unavoidably true. “The ball and chain,” she admitted.

“Exactly. And you’ve been puttin’ up with him for years. It’s only a matter of time ‘til he gets so drunk, he smashes your kid’s face in and doesn’t even remember it.” He looked away and mumbled, “That’s what my dad did to me.”

She actually felt a wave of sympathy for him. Billy never talked about his family. He never even really talked about his life, unless it was music-related. She didn’t know what was more alarming, that he had just told her something so personal or that she actually gave a damn about it.

“So you’re saying I can’t trust Alex with Garret,” she concluded.

“You already know that.”

“But I can’t exactly trust you with him, either. Alex may get drunk, but you get high.” In the grand scheme of things, there really wasn’t a difference.

“I’ll quit,” he promised.

“You can’t.”

“I can,” he persisted. “I will. I’m going to. For you, for your kid . . .”

“Garret,” she snapped. “His name’s Garret.”

“Garret,” he echoed. “He’d like me.”

She shook her head. The guy was living in a fantasy world . . . wasn’t he? It was tempting to live there along with him, and sometimes she did. Sometimes—a lot of the time—she let herself believe that she actually still stood a chance with Michael, that they would somehow get back to the way they had been and he’d love her more than life itself again. That fantasy kept her going. Maybe this was the fantasy that sustained Billy.

“This is insane,” she said. “You can’t just step into his life. You’re not qualified. You’re not Michael . . .” She shook her head, willing herself not to give him false hope. Because it wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t. “I think you should go,” she suggested sternly. If he stayed any longer, he was just going to keep talking, and she felt dangerously close to buying into what he was saying.

He left wordlessly with his movie in hand.








TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Well, I've gotten a little more writing done this week than I have in weeks past. A little. I'm just so disappointed in myself. Usually I write a novel a year. 522 broke that streak.

Finally got around to changing my icon, too, after seeing some of the new icons some of you are using.

Ellie:

No ... you did. In 521, when they both worked at the museum. I don't you remember that ... cuz I remember that

No, I do remember that. But I haven't written any sex scenes for them in the art gallery yet, so . . . maybe I'll have to do that.

OMG ... does Liz want to get caught?

You know . . . maybe she does. That would be one way to get Max to notice her.

Liz and Brandon are just steaming right along into having an affair. Liz might have walked away this time, but sometime soon she's going to stay. Can't say I blame her, she's a much nicer person with him than she is with Max. She's smiley and fun. With Max she's moany and whiney. She's still self-centred and rude though.

The Liz we glimpse around Brandon is definitely different than the Liz we see around Max. She's getting a taste of what other relationships can be like. They don't have to be all dark and dangerous and depressing.

Why is Maria the only one trying to save Tess's business?

Hmm, probably because both Tess and Liz are a little too self-involved right now.

Leila:

Liz likes the good guy Brandon. She's a mess. Then a nice guy is waht she wants then why did decided to marry the devil himself?

This is why I've said Liz might be the most complex person in this story. She likes Brandon, the good guy, but she's in love with Max, the bad guy. Yet, Max is showing signs of goodness lately, so why is that making their relationship weaker rather than stronger? That's an ovearching question I'll attempt to address as we go on.

As for Isabel, I think she keeps telling Garret those things to make himcling to her. Her son is the only good thinkg in her life and she knows it. Her ways of showing mama love sucks but I don't doubt she would do anything for him. So losing Garret scares her. That her son could love someone more than her scares and she tries in very messed up ways to cling him to her. Though it seems she's cling to him.

I think you hit the nail on the head here. The two people in her life that Isabel has allowed herself to love are Michael and Garret, and she's already lost Michael. Even though she still obsesses over him, subconsciously, I think she's aware that she screwed things up for eternity and that she doesn't really stand a chance. So losing Garret would be unbearable.

Oh Billy, he lives in a dream world where he can save Isabel. She also likes to entertain this idea but I doubt she would ever let herself be part of it in reality. And Billy as a father is a scary thought. Very scary.

The thought of Billy as a father sends shivers up my spine, too. But what he feels for Isabel is just like what she feels for Michael, so it's possible that he might do everything in his power to be with her. And as for Isabel . . . hearing Billy promise all these things can be very seductive.

Novy:

A drunk or high dad? Oh the options. Gosh, that poor kid.

I know. And even his uncle, the one semi-good influence in his life, is an un-convicted rapist. I feel really bad for little Garret. He has so much working against him.

if only the poor kid could be adopted into a new family. Michael and Maria's? lol It's crazy enough that it wouldn't surprise me if you did.

I don't think Michael and Maria could handle that.

I'm glad Tiffany is going some where new. I hope it's better for her. I wonder what Max would do if she found a good home and got adopted by someone that wasn't him.

Oh, I think he'd feel a little jealous.

I respect Liz for walking away from Brandon. I forget she's with Max for a reason. She can be deplorable like him when she wants to be. I wouldn't wish that on Brandon. I like him too much for that.

I agree. Brandon's a good guy, just like Liz was a good girl before she met Max. Max corrupted Liz, and now Liz is in line to do the same thing to Brandon if she doesn't get control over herself.

Rodney:

God I can't believe I'm saying this but I think Billy might start being the only sane one in this screwed up story! How messed up is that?!

That's very messed up. But all the characters in this story seem to alternate from sane to insane at some point for whatever reason.

He might be lying his ass off but hey at least he's talking a good game right now.We'll see if he's telling the truth or not.

Time will tell.

No Kyle/Tess here April! I don't know if I should be mad at you or happy you spared me the ulcer flare up those two are causing me right now

You've already got an ulcer, huh? Well, you might have two or three by the time this fic is over.



Thanks for the feedback!








Part 62








Kyle got a text message from Tess that evening telling him to meet him at a French restaurant whose name he couldn’t even pronounce. He went, though he had no idea why he was going. They usually had taco night.

He probably should have dressed up, because when he walked in wearing his t-shirt and jeans and saw other men dressed in tuxedos, he felt out of place. He tried to make himself invisible as he scanned the restaurant for his wife, and he almost didn’t recognize her when he saw her sitting at the bar. She was wearing a black strapless dress that was so short it was practically underwear, and her hair was curled and piled atop her head. She had on hoop earrings and smolderingly dark makeup. She definitely looked hot, but she didn’t look like her usual self.

“Tess?” he walked up to her hesitantly, still not sure if he had the right woman. She didn’t turn around to face him, but when he got closer, he was sure it was her. “Hey,” he said, sitting down beside her. “Why’d you wanna meet here?”

She turned to face him and smiled. “Hi, I’m Veruca,” she said, extending her hand for a handshake.

He wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “Ve-what?”

“Veruca,” she repeated. “And you are . . .?”

“Your husband.”

“No,” she said, grinning. “Not tonight.”

“Oh.” Now the new look made a lot more sense. “A little role-play, huh?” She had once awarded him an Academy award for his role as the heroic, shirtless firefighter. She’d been the damsel in distress.

“I thought it might help bring back the spark,” she explained.

“I see. So . . . Veruca.” He was willing to play along if he could.

“Yes?”

“I’m . . . Pippins McGee.”

She made a face. “Pippins?”

“No?” That was probably the least sexy name ever. “Then I’m . . . Ricardo.”

“Ricardo what?”

“Richardson.”

“Hmm, you don’t look like a Ricardo.”

“Oh, but I am,” he assured her, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. “I’ve got that whole Latin Lover thing going on.”

“Really? I’ve always wanted a Latin Lover.”

“You have?” His natural male jealousy flared up.

“Just go with it,” she said before slipping back into character.

“Right. Well . . . here I am. Let’s do it, baby.”

“I can’t,” she said, holding up her left hand. “I’m married.”

“Oh. What’s your husband like?”

“Nice, smart, funny. The only problem is, he won’t sleep with me.”

Kyle shifted uncomfortably. Maybe talking about himself like he wasn’t there was supposed to be erotic, but . . . he just wasn’t feeling it. “I’m sure he’s just waiting for the right time,” he said.

“Maybe the right time’s right now,” she said. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

His eyebrows shot up and he looked down. Her legs were crossed together tightly and he couldn’t see anything, but all he had to do was urge that dress upwards an inch or two . . .

“Oh, Veruca.”

“Ricardo.” She laughed. “Okay, let’s do it. My husband never has to know.” She leaned in to kiss him, and he leaned in towards her, but something still felt off. As physically attracted as he was to her in that moment, and as much as he wanted to be with her . . . it still wasn’t the right time. They couldn’t afford to rush things. Their marriage had been through enough trauma lately. They had to be careful with it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, backing up, “it’s just too weird.”

“What?” She frowned, disappointed.

“Yeah, this whole affair scenario? It’s very Max and Liz.”

“Ew. Okay then, let’s start over,” she decided. “I won’t be married; I’ll just be lonely. And I think you should be Jake instead of Ricardo.”

“I’m not Jake,” he said. “I’m not Ricardo. I’m just me.”

“Kyle . . .” She looked at him pleadingly. “It’s just for tonight. Please, it could help us.”

“Wouldn’t you rather it just happen on its own? I mean, why force it?”

“I just want it to happen,” she said. “This was such a stupid idea.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Nothing about her or her ideas was stupid.

She stood up and tugged her dress down. “Who am I kidding? Veruca? I can’t just change my name and make you want me again.” She grabbed her purse and stormed off.

“Tess, I always want you . . .” But it didn’t matter. She was already gone, and he once again had to mentally kick himself because he’d gone and screwed things up. Why did being married have to be so hard?

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

Michael slithered up Maria’s body, having just worked magic with his tongue between her legs. She let the blissful calm of her orgasm encompass her as he hovered above her, propping himself up on his forearms. Sometimes he could look so adorable when they made love, like an eager little boy with an unmistakable gleam of mischief in his eyes.

“I love you so much,” she said, pushing his sweat-soaked hair back off his forehead.

“I love you, too.” He captured her lips in a sloppy kiss, and she realized she had another round in her. Why settle for two orgasms when you could aim for the trifecta?

“Turn me over,” she murmured against his mouth, grinning.

He gave her a questioning look, and she nodded. A little doggie style never hurt anyone.

He smiled excitedly and sat up, grabbing her hips and turning her over onto her stomach swiftly. She tucked her knees beneath her so that her backside was in the air and tried not to feel self-conscious. “I feel so naughty whenever we do it like this,” she said, resting her head on the pillow in front of her. She twisted her torso to the side so that she could see him behind her.

“Then we should do it like this more often,” he suggested, positioning himself at her entrance after sheathing himself in latex.

“Yeah,” she agreed, closing her eyes when she felt his erection brush against her folds. “You make me so horny,” she told him. As though he didn’t already know that.

He draped his left arm over her ass to hold her steady while he led his cock inside her with his other hand. She was still wet from her previous orgasms, so he slid in effortlessly.

“Uh . . .” she groaned, wishing there were some damn way they could just stay like this forever, never having to separate. “Oh, god, Michael.” He wasn’t taking it slow. His thrusts were full throttle right from the start. She had to hold onto the pillow beneath her for dear life as their bed’s headboard bumped against the wall under the force of their movement.

“Fuck,” he swore, and after that, about every expletive known to man left his mouth. She had to laugh. He wouldn’t remember saying anything. Michael got so in the zone during sex that he practically blacked out. The man pounding into from behind stood out in stark contrast to the adorable boyishness she’d glimpsed in him merely minutes before.

She wasn’t sure how much time had gone by—it was getting hard to think coherently—when the bedroom door came crashing open and Miley ran in crying, “Daddy, I had a bad dream!”

“Miley!” Maria shrieked, pushing Michael off the side of the bed onto the floor. She quickly sat up and covered herself with blankets, horrified. “What’re you doing?”

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked, poking his head above the side of the bed. When he saw Miley standing in the doorway, he yelled, “OH MY GOD!” at the top of his lungs and dove underneath the bed.

“I had a bad dream,” Miley repeated, looking utterly confused.

All Maria could think was that this was a bad dream right now. More like a nightmare. She clutched the sheets tightly to her chest and frantically searched for the words to say. “Just . . . get outta here,” she said, not sure if there was a way to explain this.

With wide eyes, Miley ran back down the hallway towards her bedroom.

Maria whimpered dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. Not good. Not good at all.

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

Michael paced around the kitchen in a panic, occasionally raking his hands through his hair and looking as though he were about to cry. “Oh god. Oh god. I knew this would happen. This is . . . I don’t even think they make words strong enough to describe how mortifying this is.”

“So mortifying,” Maria agreed, sitting at the kitchen table. “She thought she was having bad dreams before? She’s gonna have nightmares now.”

“So am I.” He didn’t know what was more alarming, the fact that his three year-old had just seen him and Maria in the act or that he’d been too intent on what he was doing to even realize it. If Maria hadn’t tossed him off the bed, they probably would have kept on going.

“I’ve read things about kids who walk in on their parents having sex, or kids who, like, were in the crib next to the bed when their parents were having sex,” she went on. “And they don’t grow up right. They become all hyper-sexualized.”

“Well, I don’t want our daughter to be hyper-sexualized!” he wailed. It was bad enough that she already had a boyfriend.

“Well, she was only in the crib that one time,” Maria pointed out.

“But still . . .” He shook his head. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know. God, this was just bound to happen, wasn’t it?”

“The one time we forget to lock the door . . .” he muttered, angry at himself.

“And of course we just had to be going at it and not just kissing. And in that position of all positions. You know, she’s seen me naked before back when we were talking about which body parts are which, but you? She saw your . . . everything. Your package, your butt . . .”

“She saw my butt? Oh god.” It just kept getting worse and worse. “And my . . . no!”

“I don’t even know how we can explain this to her without having the talk.”

He dreaded that talk just about more than anything in the world. “We can lie,” he proposed. “Yeah, we can say I was walking and I just tripped and fell.”

“Into me?”

“It happens.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Or we could say we were exercising,” he suggested.

“Michael, get serious.”

“I am. I seriously think we should say we were exercising.” It wasn’t a total lie. Sex was, after all, quite the efficient workout. He’d probably burned his entire daily intake of calories.

“She’s gonna wanna know what was going on,” Maria said.

“Maybe if we’re lucky, she’ll block this out. It can be one of her repressed memories.”

“If we’re lucky,” she agreed. “Which one of us should have the talk with her?”

“Not me,” he said.

“Not me.”

“I said it first.” It was probably best to keep sex talks gender-segregated anyway.

“Well, I gave birth to your kids,” she retorted. “You owe me.”

“Dammit.” She had him there. “Why couldn’t I have a uterus?”

She laughed.

“Maybe Kyle had the right idea when he told her sex is a kind of cake,” he pondered aloud.

“Well, if it’s a cake, you must have a major sweet tooth.” She smirked.

“Oh, I have a sweet tooth?” He sat down beside her. “This coming from the girl who once overused a vibrator, enacted every man’s carwash fantasy, and played naked Marco Polo just to get me to sleep with her?”

She shrugged innocently. “I like to have my cake and eat it, too.”

He chuckled. “That makes no sense.”

She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, seeming a bit more calm about this than he was, probably because she’d learned about sex at an early age and she’d managed to turn out okay.

“I don’t suppose you wanna go finish up,” he said, not quite sure how he could still be a little horny after what had happened.

She moved back and gave him a look of disbelief.

“No?” he said. “Okay, no, me neither.”

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

Isabel stayed up all night researching child custody cases online. She read lots of testimonials from women who had been in situations similar to hers, dealing with an alcoholic husband. The more she read, the more feasible the idea started to seem. Maybe if she put some dark makeup around Garret’s eye to make it look like he’d been hit, then she could take some pictures and claim that Alex had beat him. Then her case would be a slam dunk. He didn’t have that kind of evidence against her, fabricated or otherwise.

She didn’t even realize it was morning until Alex poked his head into her bedroom and asked, “How was work last night?”

She quickly minimized her web browser and replied, “Fine. It’s an easy job.”

“But you like it?”

“Yeah.” She shut the ancient desktop computer down so that he couldn’t come see what she was looking at.

“Well, I’m off to class,” he announced.

She sat silently for a minute, watching him head down the hallway and downstairs. “Goodbye,” she called finally, wondering what it would feel like to say goodbye for good.

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

Isabel let herself into Michael’s gallery before it technically opened. Only five minutes before, but still . . .

“I thought you were working the night shift,” he mumbled, not even glancing up from a drawing he was doing. It was of Miley and Macy.

“I am,” she said. “I just figured you’d be here and I thought I’d stop by.”

“Just to chat?”

“Sort of.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets and shifted her weight uncomfortably. “I need advice, and you’re the only person I trust to give it to me.”

“I’ve got a crisis of my own to deal with,” he said, setting his pencil down.

Her interest piqued. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“Are you and Maria fighting?” She hadn’t meant to sound so excited at the prospect, but it was hard not to.

“No,” he replied. “Sorry to disappoint you. We’re actually doing the opposite of fighting.”

She gave him a confused look.

“Look, it’s a Miley thing,” he said, picking up his pencil again. “Just don’t ask.”

The opposite of fighting, she thought, which would be . . . “Oh, she walked in on the two of you having sex?” she guessed, pushing aside the jealousy that Maria got to have sex with Michael and she didn’t. “That’s hardly a crisis.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I had the talk with Garret last year when he got a hold of one of his dad’s X-rated magazines. It wasn’t so bad. Of course, he was younger than Miley is now, so I doubt he remembers much about it.”

“Trust me, Miley’s never gonna forget this,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“It’ll be fine,” she assured him. “What I’m dealing with . . . now that’s a crisis.” She had a new crisis to deal with just about every single day. “I might be getting a divorce,” she revealed.

He stopped drawing and gave her a look of semi-surprise. “Yeah, that’s pretty bad,” he agreed.

“The idea was presented to me last night,” she said vaguely, hoping not to bring up Billy unless she had to, “and at first it seemed completely absurd. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and now I’m actually starting to weigh the pros and cons.”

“And?”

“More pros than cons.” She sighed heavily and set her purse down on the counter. “I think I’ve just gotten so used to being married to Alex that I shut myself off to the other options. I mean, the only reason I’m still with him is Garret, but I think I could get full custody pretty easily, especially now that I have a job and Alex doesn’t. And then maybe Garret would be better off in the long-run. What do you think?” She really wanted his opinion, not only because she was in love with him, but because he had a good head on his shoulders. He was smart and mature and always knew what to do, no matter how bad things got.

“I don’t know enough about your marriage to make any judgments,” he said.

“Okay, but if you were in my situation, what would you do?”

“I’ll never be in your situation.”

She grunted. “Lucky you.” Maybe if she had never cheated on him, she wouldn’t be in the situation, either.

“Look, whatever you decide to do, just make sure it’s what’s best for you and Garret,” he advised. “And make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.”

She smiled softly at him. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’m not naïve enough to think that dropping the Whitman off the end of my name will make you want me again.” But secretly, she’d been hoping. Hope could only go so far, though. Maybe it was time to get realistic.

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

Even though he was supposed to be at work, Max opted to accompany Tiffany to her new foster home that afternoon. She seemed happier than she’d been ever since he’d met her. Her new ‘placement’ was very exciting for her. She was going to be living with the Shillings family. Nice family, by the sound of it.

“Are you sure Jorge won’t mind you missing work for this?” she asked as she led him up the sidewalk towards her house.

“It’s not like I’m much help when I’m there,” he pointed out. Mostly all he did was sit around and talk to Tiffany. Jorge said he was her mentor, but he still felt more like a friend. Or . . .

Not a father. Not even a foster father. Because she had new foster parents now.

“Well, this is it,” she said when she pushed open the door to the house. “My new home. For now, at least.”

Max looked around. It was clean, yet lived-in, sort of reminded him of Michael and Maria’s place. It was in that kind of neighborhood, too, that happy-go-lucky suburban neighborhood where neighbors actually knew each other’s names and felt bad if someone moved away.

“It’s nicer than your old one,” he commented.

“Yeah,” she agreed emphatically. “My room’s down the hallway to the right. Or the left. I can’t remember. I just moved my stuff in before school this morning.” She laughed a little. “I only have to share a room with one other kid, though. She’s in second grade. Her name’s Kelsey.”

“You have to share a room?” Max asked.

“Well, yeah, I’ve never had one all to myself,” she said as though it were nothing.

“Really?” Max could barely fathom that. His childhood bedroom had been about the size of a small house. Isabel’s had been a little smaller.

Tiffany shrugged and set her backpack down on the couch. “At least this time I don’t have to share a bed.”

Max’s eyes bulged. He’d only shared a bed in a sexual capacity.

She was about to show him around when a kid with shoulder-length, curly, dark hair sauntered into the living room from the kitchen. He had a bag of potato chips in his hand and a questioning look on his face. He definitely didn’t look old enough to be the foster dad. “Hey, Tiffany,” he said. “Who’s your friend?”

“Lukas, this is Max,” she said. “Max, this is Lukas. He’s my new foster brother.”

“I’m the Shillings’ only biological kid,” he said, extending his hand for a shake. Max reluctantly returned the gesture, though he could feel the grease from the potato chips all over.

“Lukas isn’t that much younger than you,” Tiffany said to Max.

“Yeah, they started the foster thing when I moved away to college last year,” he explained. “I dropped out, though.”

“Obviously.” The guy looked—and quite frankly smelled—like a slacker. But when Max remembered he lived in a trailer park, he realized he probably didn’t smell much better.

“I never finished, either,” he said. In retrospect, dropping out had been a bad idea. He’d mistakenly thought he’d always have his father’s empire to fall back on. He returned his attention to Tiffany and said, “It looks like you have a good set-up here. I’m happy for you.”

She smiled.

“I’m really happy for you,” he emphasized, although an even larger part of him was angry, frustrated, and disappointed; because he wasn’t able to be her ‘placement.’

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

Isabel glanced up at one of the four TVs in the main room of the video store. It kept playing the same trailers over and over again. Ralph said they got a new disc every two weeks. She was already tired of this one. There were only so many times she could see a Sarah Palin lookalike getting plowed before she nearly vomited.

Billy came in with Cluck-Cluck Cum-Shots in hand. “It was weird,” he announced. “Got any recommendations for tonight?”

She grabbed one of the movies she had just checked in off the counter and handed it to him. It was called Divorcees and Dicks.

“Interesting,” he said, eyeing her more than the cover.

“Give me a minute, okay?” she said when the only customers in the store, an old guy and a girl who appeared young enough to be his daughter, came up to the counter with a stack of movies in hand. She scanned their purchases into the computer, took their money, and told them “Have a nice night,” as they left. Then it was just her and Billy once again, and it was hard to act casual.

They were supposed to have always been casual. But things changed.

“I thought about what you said,” she told him.

“And?”

“And . . .” She shook her head. “I must be out of my mind.”

He grinned. “That’s what I like about you.”

“This is ridiculous,” she thought out loud. “There’s no way it can possibly work. I mean, you’re . . . you.” But as he had so deliberately pointed out last night, he did want her. That was something. She took a deep breath and gripped the edge of the counter tightly, nerves coursing through her as she made her decision. “I’m gonna do it,” she said. “I’m gonna get a divorce.”

He looked shocked, but thrilled.

“And we’ll see what happens with us,” she added warily. “Don’t get your hopes up. I can’t promise anything. We’re both extremely screwed up people, and that’s bound to be disastrous. I have to think about Garret; I have to think about what’s best for him. Alex may not be the greatest male role model, but then again, neither are you, so . . .”

“I meant what I said about quittin’ the drugs,” he cut in quickly. “I haven’t done any since this morning.”

She rolled her eyes. What an accomplishment.

“And I won’t do anymore,” he promised. “Startin’ today, cold turkey. I can do it, Isabel.”

“Well, that remains to be seen.”

“Have a little faith in me, alright?”

She barely had faith in anything, but she was willing to give him a shot. “Are you gonna be home tomorrow?” she inquired.

“Yeah.”

“Then I’m gonna stop by with Garret. You should meet him.”

“I can’t wait.” He sounded a combination of nervous and excited, but he was trying to just look excited. “When you gonna tell Alex?”

“Soon.” She wanted to see how things went with Garret and Billy first. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“It’s gonna be great,” he promised, reaching over the counter to pick up her hands and squeeze them in his.

She really hoped it would be. She and Garret both needed something great, even if it wasn’t with Michael.








TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Leila:

OH M&M....It must be the biggest nightmare a parent can experience. Getting caught having sex by the kid. Ouch and eww!

When I have kids someday, I dread the idea of this happening.

Kyle and Tess really need to talk. Tess tries to solve her problems with sex - which still needs to be performed. And Kyle tries to solve his problems by keeping his at distance. None of them is trying to have a talk about their marriage and what issues come with it.

Exactly. Kyle and Tess both have their own strategies/ideas about what will help them get their marriage back on track, and neither of them is taking the initiative to sit down and have an open, honest conversation about their issues, which is clearly what needs to happen.

Ellie:

LOL OMG ... Poor Michael and Maria. I doubt Miley saw much - she seemed really focused on her nightmare more than what Daddy was doing to Mommy. Let's face it - if she had saw anything, she would have been asking that question and her nightmare would have been long gone. But then again ... kids way of thinking is kinda weird. I guess we shall soon see.

Miley definitely saw more than any kid should ever see, but she's too young to make much sense of it. Of course, after falling in the pool and running away with Garret, if this is all the drama Miley's involved in right now, it's very manageable.

And why does this new 'family' situation with Tiffany worry me so? Could it be the college age slacker of a bio-kid? I don't know ... my mind goes to dark places in situations like this - I always think of the bad more than I think about the good. WTF does that say about us as a society huh?

Hmm, that says a lot of sad things about us as a society. My mind goes to dark places like that a lot, too.

BB:

I can't speak for anybody else, but I'd much rather sleep with a Pippins than a Veruca.

Me, too! Veruca was a completely failed attempt on Tess's part.

Michael and Maria were hilarious. I love how they blow these things out of all proportion and think the end of the world is coming.

I think that might feel like the end of the world, even though it's not!

I think the idea of Billy meeting poor Garret is frightening but I'm on board for an Isabel/Alex divorce. I actually think it would be the best thing for them all. And then she's going to fuck it all up by making things permanent with Billy. One step forward and three steps back for Isabel. As usual.

I agree. Divorcing Alex is actually not a bad idea, but solidifying things with Billy completely negates any good that would come out of it. Probably.

Novy:

Wow!! Never a dull moment at 522.

Oh, wait until things really kick into gear.

lol First Amy and now Miley. I guess it runs in the family.

lol, yeah. I was wondering if anyone would remember this isn't the first time Michael and Maria have been caught in the act.

I have a feeling Tiffany's new foster placement might go very very well.

Hopefully. Tiffany's a good kid, so she deserves something good in a foster placement. Of course, like you said, Max is going to be a little jealous, because he's not in a position to offer her much in the way of a home.

trulov:

When Max was the "bad guy" he needed Liz - desperately - b/c she made him less of a monster. But he doesn't need her so much anymore - to the point that she's practically having an affair right under his nose and he's not noticing.

Max and Liz's relationship in this fic is probably one of the most complicated relationships I've ever written in my life. I constantly find it taking new turns. Max definitely needed Liz in 521, but you're right that he doesn't need her so much anymore. He loves her, but he doesn't need her to be a better version of himself anymore.

Rodney:

But Kyle is the one flip flopping on the baby thing and holding out from sex for what I see is no reason.If anyone is screwing up here it's Kyle.

I think if Tess was actually taking her birth control pill, I'd be a little more sympathetic towards her. Kyle has definitely screwed up enough in this fic, but I have a question for you: If the situation were reversed and Kyle was the one pressuring Tess to have sex and she was the one saying no, saying they need to take things slow for awhile, would you feel the same? I just ask because your feedback has really gotten me thinking about some things I never thought about when I was writing this. It's interesting.

Ohhh and April....if Kyle is not in the mood anymore I'll be happy to role play with Tess.

I know you would.

I've got this strange feeling that Isabel might get shocked on this whole divorce thing.I mean Alex has never gotten arrested for his drinking(that I know about)...not a DUI or PI and he's going to school at the moment.....where Isabel is an ex stripper and working at a porn shop...not good things for a judge to like when it comes to saying who gets the kid.

Isabel and Alex both have lots of factors working against them, so for Isabel to assume that her custody case would be a slam-dunk in her favor is probably not wise.

Trixie: Hey! We missed you, too! I know what you mean about a crazy couple of months. Are things slightly less crazy now?

Anyway, I'm still catching up with the story, and I'm glad to say the writing/plot development is still superb.

Aw, thank you! I have to say, I'm quite proud of the plot for this fic. It's probably one of the more well-constructed ones I've done.

It's so awesome that Maria's much more stable (mentally and emotionally) than Tess or Liz, who I thought were a bit less crazy than her, when we met them in 521. But I kinda feel for her, because I don't think I could handle 2 babies before turning 25, even if Michael's such a Superman.

I couldn't handle it, either. But having a guy like Michael would definitely help. Maria was forced to grow up fast after she got pregnant.


Thanks for the feedback! As always, I greatly appreciate it.








Part 63








Before it was time for Miley to go to bed that night, Maria agreed to let her help make brownies. Happy Hearts was having a potluck dinner for all children and parents in a few weeks, and Maria needed a dessert to bring. Brownies were the simplest and least time-consuming.

“Egg,” she said, holding out her hand.

Miley handed her one of the raw eggs.

“Thank you very much.” She cracked it on the side of the bowl and let everything but the shell fall in with the butter and cocoa mix. “You wanna crack the next one?”

Miley nodded.

“Okay, come here.” She lifted her daughter up so that she could see over the counter and handed her the second egg. “Hit it against the side of the bowl,” she instructed. Miley tried, but it didn’t crack. “Hit it harder.” She tried again, and this time, it did break open. “There you go. Good job,” Maria praised her, taking the shell from her and setting it aside. “You’re a regular Wolfgang Puck.”

“Who’s that?” Miley asked.

Maria set her back down on the floor. “Some cooking guy.”

“I’m not a guy,” Miley pointed out.

“That’s right, you’re a girl. A pretty little girl.”

“I’m not little, I’m big.”

“Oh, that’s what I meant.” She added the rest of the ingredients to the bowl, along with the brownie batter, stirred them up a bit, then dipped her index finger in to take a taste. “Mmm,” she said, “these brownies are gonna be so good. Are you gonna have some?”

“Lots!” Miley exclaimed.

“Lots, huh?” It was probably better to eat them when you were little and didn’t have to worry about calories and weight gain.

“Can we have cake, too?” Miley asked sweetly, tilting her head to the side.

“Maybe, if you’ll help me make it. What kind do you want?”

“Sex!”

Maria almost choked on her own spit. “What? Oh, god.” Freaking Kyle and his lies. “Honey, don’t believe a word your uncle says. Sex is not a kind of cake.”

“Then what is it?”

“Well . . .” Maria bent down, ready to explain it all, but the words just didn’t come. “Go ask your dad,” she decided finally, returning her attention to the brownie mix. She had a baking plan to flour down.

Miley headed outside where Michael was sitting on the swing set and drawing. Maria watched as Miley went up to him, said a few words, and he froze. He glared inside, and she quickly looked away, pretending to be all engrossed in her brownies. A few seconds later, Miley pranced back inside. “He said to ask you.”

“Ask him,” Maria repeated.

Miley groaned in frustration and headed back outside. Before she could even get halfway across the backyard, Michael started motioning for her to go back inside.

“He said--”

“To ask me,” Maria cut in, rolling her eyes. She slid back the sliding door and shouted “Wimp!”

Michael just shrugged and resumed drawing.

Maria shut the door again and washed off her chocolate-covered hands before sitting down at the kitchen table, lifting her daughter up onto her lap. “Okay, Miley, I’m gonna tell you the truth,” she said. “Sex . . .” Her vocal ability stalled.

Miley kept looking at her expectantly.

Sex is amazing, she thought. Sex is the best thing in the whole wide world. Sex is what your dad and I were doing last night. Sex is what made you.

“Sex is a dinosaur,” she blurted.

Miley gave her a confused look. “It is?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t even know where the lie had come from, but it would work. “You know that little Tyrannosaurus Rex figurine you play with? Well, there’s such a thing as the Tyrannosaurus Sex, the lesser-known cousin.”

Miley frowned, the little wheels of her mind obviously working overtime to try to figure it all out. “What were you and Daddy doing last night?” she asked.

“Not sex,” Maria answered quickly, wimping out just like Michael had. “Nope. No way. Although it would probably be best if you black out everything you saw. Okay?”

Miley nodded.

“Okay,” Maria said, breathing a temporary sigh of relief.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Sex is a dinosaur?” Tess laughed as she and Maria walked around the block with Frank that evening. “Seriously?”

Maria shrugged helplessly. “I had nothing.”

“Clearly. Well, this is great. I can just see it now: She’s gonna walk up to Garret one day and ask him if he wants to play sex.”

“Oh god.” Maria pressed her hand to a forehead as Frank stopped to lift his leg on a fire hydrant. “I have to set her straight, don’t I?”

“Yeah, eventually.”

“I still can’t believe she walked in on us together. And it wasn’t sweet, tender, romantic together, either. It was wam, bam, thank you, ma’am.”

Tess felt the pangs of envy. “Nice.” She wished she were having sex of any kind. “Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think this is the first time she’s seen you two together.”

“What?” Maria shrieked. “That doesn’t make me feel better! Why do you think that?”

“Because, she tells me things.”

Maria looked at her expectantly.

“Okay, early in the summer, she told me about something involving her kiddie pool.”

“She saw us in the kiddie pool?” Maria wailed.

“Wait, you guys actually had sex in the kiddie pool?”

“That’s . . . not the issue,” Maria said, waving it off. “Oh my god! I always thought we were being so covert.”

“Apparently not.” Tess snorted. “Just wait until Macy’s older. Then they can tag-team spy on you.”

“Please don’t make me slap you.” Maria tugged on Frank’s leash, and they continued down the sidewalk. “Well, as far as family drama goes, I guess at least this is the somewhat comical kind.”

“Yeah, I wish my drama was comical,” Tess muttered.

“Oh, no. What happened?”

She sighed disappointedly. “I guess I’m just trying too hard. You’re embarrassed because your daughter saw you having sex; I’m embarrassed because my husband keeps turning down sex with me.”

Maria’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Yeah, and I’m totally, like, throwing myself at him. Ever since Miley fell in the pool, though, we’ve been so disconnected. So I’m trying to take your advice and, you know, reconnect.”

“Wait, when was that my advice?”

“Well, you basically told me to stop being such a bitch because it was driving Kyle away. So I thought, instead of being a bitch, I’ll be a temptress. But apparently I’m just not very tempting.” There had been a time not all that long ago when Kyle had been physically incapable of turning down a sex offer. Why did things have to change?

“Oh, Tess, I’m sorry,” Maria said sympathetically, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “But it’s just a phase. Michael and I have had phases. Remember the sex drought?”

“Yeah, but Michael always wanted to have sex with you,” she pointed out. “Stuff just kept getting in the way. With Kyle . . . he just keeps turning me down.”

“Why?”

“He thinks I’m trying to force it. Like, I set up this whole role-play scenario, and . . .” She trailed off, trying her best not to think about it.

“Well—and don’t hate me for saying this—but maybe he has a point,” Maria said as they walked along. “Just let it happen, and be glad when it does. It is kind of a change. The last time you guys did it, you were trying to have a baby. Now it’s time for condoms and birth control again.”

Tess lowered her head, ashamed.

“Right?”

She swallowed hard and lied through her teeth. “Right.”

“Just let it happen,” Maria repeated. “It’ll probably be so worth the wait.”

She held one hand to her stomach and whispered, “I hope so.”

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

Max took a stroll that night, just to clear his head. He was full of conflict, wanting to be happy for Tiffany but also hating that there were other people out there giving her what he wanted to: a home. He knew he should just be happy for her. He knew that.

He strolled past a French restaurant that stayed open late and momentarily thought about popping in for a drink. The prices weren’t outrageous, and there was a hot blonde sitting at the bar. When he stopped and took a closer look, he realized that the blonde was none other than his ex-girlfriend. She looked about as unhappy as he was, and her husband was nowhere in sight.

He went into the restaurant and sauntered up to the bar, standing instead of taking a seat. “Martini,” he told the bartender, waiting for Tess to look at him, but she never did. She was staring at her own drink and frowning uncontrollably.

“Hey,” he said, hoping to elicit some kind of reaction.

“Hey, I’m Veruca,” she growled angrily.

“What?”

“Never mind, it’s a bitter inside joke,” she explained.

“I didn’t know there was such a thing.” The bartender brought over his martini, and he took a drink. “You look miserable,” he mumbled.

“Well, you know what they say: Misery loves company.” She finally turned to look at him. “Especially when company’s just as miserable as misery is.”

He wrinkled his forehead in confusion, too tired to follow what that meant.

“You look miserable, too,” she summed up.

“No, I’m just . . . disappointed.”

“Why?”

He grunted. “Have you been following my life lately? No company, no house, no kids.”

She traced her index finger around the rim of her glass and pointed out, “It’s kinda your own fault, though. Except for the kids thing.”

He shrugged and nodded in agreement.

“Do you actually want kids?”

He swirled his drink around and took another sip. “Probably not as badly as you do, but sure. Kids are cool.”

“Kids are cool?” she echoed incredulously. “Since when? You used to say you’d force me to get an abortion if I ever got pregnant.”

“Okay, some kids are cool,” he corrected. “Like Garret. He’s the best. And there’s this girl named Tiffany . . . she’s twelve and stuck in the foster system. She’s cool, too.”

“Liz hasn’t mentioned her.”

“No, she wouldn’t.” He downed the rest of his martini and motioned the bartender over for another. “Why aren’t you home with Kyle?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you two be conceiving or something?”

“Should be,” she said. “Long story.”

“He doesn’t want kids?” he guessed.

“Okay, short story. He doesn’t want kids right now. And he doesn’t seem to want me, either.”

How is that possible? Max thought. He loved his wife, but he wasn’t above noting the hotness of other women, and Tess was hot as hell. “Sounds a lot like Liz,” he related. “She looks at me and sees the guy who flushed her life down the drain.”

“Kyle sees the girl who’s gonna flush his life down the drain with her unyielding desire to get pregnant.” She rolled her eyes.

“Well, if it means anything, I’d do the job myself if I could.”

She made a face of disgust. “Ew, I would never . . .”

“I know. Kyle’s your one true love. That’s why you two will work it out.”

“So will you and Liz,” she assured him.

“Yeah. To tell you the truth, I’m more concerned about things working out for Tiffany. I really care about her.” He got his second martini and didn’t waste any time going to town on it.

“I can tell,” Tess said, sounding a bit surprised by that fact.

“I wish I was her foster dad,” he blurted, not looking at her when he said it. “Don’t tell anyone.”

She picked up her glass momentarily, then set it down again. “I’m throwing away my birth control pills,” she whispered in a rush. “Don’t say anything.”

“Hey, your secret’s safe with me.” He could appreciate a good betrayal when he saw one. “Did you ever think we’d end up sitting here right now with so much in common?”

“No,” she replied quickly.

“Me, neither.” They took up space at that bar for the next few minutes, both of them silent, both of them lost in their lives, and neither of them sure what the future had in store.

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

Isabel felt butterflies in her stomach as she drove Garret over to Billy’s house. Leaving her son under the supervision of a self-admitted drug addict for the day wasn’t exactly a comforting thought, but if this was really going to work out between her and Billy, she needed to test him, needed to see if it could even be done. If today was a disaster, like she halfway expected it to be, then she’d know she was making the wrong decision and she’d change her mind on the divorce. If today somehow went astoundingly . . . well, then full speed ahead.

“Mommy, where are we?” Garret asked timidly.

She turned off the car and turned around in her seat to face him. “We’re at my friend’s house,” she explained. “His name’s Billy. Instead of going to daycare today, you’re gonna hang out here with him. It’ll be fun.”

Garret frowned. “But I don’t know him.”

“Just think, that’s the last time you’ll ever be able to say that.” She pushed open the door and got out of the car. Then she opened the back door and reached inside to unhook Garret from his seatbelt. He was supposed to have been in a car seat, but car seats were so damn expensive.

“But I wanna go play with Miley,” he protested.

“And trust me, it warms my heart more than anything to hear that, but this is a necessity. Because if it goes well, you’ll be seeing a lot more of Billy.” She scooped him up in her arms and lifted him out of the car, setting him down on his own two feet before shutting the door. “Now listen, if your dad asks what you did today—which he won’t, because that would require him to remember you’re alive—you just tell him you were at daycare with Miley.”

“You want me to lie?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She took his hand in hers and led him towards Billy’s house. “Just trust me, sweetie. I know what I’m doing.” He was dragging his feet reluctantly, so she practically had to pull him up onto the front steps. She rang the doorbell, and Billy came to the door a moment later.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” She surveyed him up and down, surprised by how . . . put-together he could look. Usually he just ran around in his boxers, but today he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It was sort of . . . dad attire. His hair actually looked combed, and he didn’t smell of drugs and cigarette smoke.

“Hey, Garret,” he greeted, not sounding nervous at all.

Garret turned to Isabel and held on tightly to her leg, burying his face against her.

“He’s shy,” she said. “Say hi, Garret.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Ah, that’s alright,” Billy said, kneeling down in front of him. “Hey, man, I like your hair. It’s kinda curly like mine.”

Garret slowly turned his head to the side to peek at him, and when he saw the resemblance, he smiled.

“Go on in,” Isabel urged, giving him a pat on the back. He looked up at her questioningly, and she nodded. He slipped inside and took off his shoes at the door. So polite.

“Everything’s clean,” Billy told her, motioning to the house’s interior. “Everything’s safe.”

My god, she thought, looking around. He must have spent all night cleaning. She could actually see the floor, and there wasn’t a layer of dust on all his furniture items. There was a stack of brand new board games by the couch, all games that Garret would like. He noticed them immediately and ran towards them.

“Drugs?” she asked when her son was out of earshot.

“Gone.”

“Good. I’m trusting you with my son today. I’m trusting you with a part of me. If anything bad happens to him, I’ll kill you.” And as much as she loved fucking Billy, she meant every word of that. “Have a nice day,” she said, smiling a sort of warning smile. “Bye, Garret. Be good for Billy. I’ll be back later.”

Garret waved at her, then continued looking at the games.

Billy gave her a reassuring nod, then closed the door.

Alright, Billy, she thought as she walked back towards her car, it’s time to see what kind of a father you can be.

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

While Tess walked around Brandon’s house, studying even the tiniest crevices and taking notes, Liz mostly studied Brandon. He looked especially good today. He was wearing a white beater and jeans, and she could tell he’d been painting because of the blue smears on the sides of his shirt. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have a guy paint her. Tess knew what that felt like. So did Maria. She had no idea.

“Hmm. Yeah, I can envision a lot with this space,” Tess said, thinking out loud. “Definitely something artsy since you’re an artist. And color’s gonna be key. I hope you’ll trust my instincts, no matter how outlandish they may seem. Liz, are you taking pictures?”

“What?” She snapped herself out of her Brandon thoughts. “Yeah.” She poised the digital camera and took a picture of the living room from one angle, then walked towards Brandon to get a picture from a different angle. He smiled at her, and she smiled up at him. So good-looking.

“She’s the worst assistant,” Tess muttered. “Now don’t be alarmed if you hear me talking about fire engine red. I know it seems a little drastic, but it’s very masculine, and I think you’ll like it. It’s passionate, puts girls in the mood.”

Liz’s eyes bulged, and she snapped pictures rapidly.

“So I think I’m all done here today,” Tess announced. “I’ll be in touch, and it was nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” Brandon returned, shaking her hand.

“You’re saving my business, so thanks.” She headed for the door and motioned for Liz to follow her.

“I’ll meet you back at the studio a little later,” Liz told her. “I wanna get a few more pictures.”

“Suit yourself.” Tess waved goodbye to Brandon and headed out.

“She seems nice,” he remarked.

“Yeah, she is. She’s pretty much my only friend.” She took another picture, but her mind was so elsewhere that it was a picture of the floor.

“I thought I was your friend,” he said, feigning offense.

“Oh, you are my friend. A good one.” She held up the camera and took a picture of him, laughing.

“No fair, I wasn’t even expecting that,” he said, trying to seize the camera from her. “I blinked.”

“That’s company property. You break it, you buy it,” she teased, not giving up her hold on the camera.

“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you just hand it over?” He reached down to tickle her sides.

“Stop!” she yelped, giggling like a schoolgirl, but he just kept on going. “Stop it, I’m ticklish!”

He laughed right along with her, and then all of a sudden, it happened. He kissed her. His lips were on hers almost before she knew what was happening, and her first instinct was to kiss him back. But she backed away instead.

“Oh god, Liz . . . I’m sorry,” he apologized right away. “I didn’t mean to . . .”

“I have to go.” She was married. She was so married.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated sincerely. “We can just forget that ever happened.”

“Brandon . . .” She shook her head. They couldn’t forget. Whatever their relationship was, a friendship or something a little more . . . it couldn’t be anything now.

She grabbed her purse off one of his beanbags and scurried out the door, camera still in hand. She quickly deleted the snapshot she’d taken of him and climbed into her vehicle. Tears started to well up in her eyes as she drove off down the street, because she knew this was the last time she could ever see him. Had to be. If she ever saw him again, something more serious was going to happen, and she’d never be able to take it back.

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

Isabel spent the majority of her day resting. She had to work again that night, and even though it wasn’t tough work, she still needed her sleep. She went back to Billy’s to pick up Garret around 3:00 so that she’d have enough time to see how things went, bring Garret back home, and get to work early. It never hurt to be early during the first two weeks of a job, just to establish yourself as a kickass employee.

Lorenzo was sitting outside on the hood of his car, blowing puffs of nicotine into the air. He smiled when he saw her and said, “You look hot, girl.”

“I know.” She always looked hot, but it was nice that people still noticed. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Billy says I gotta smoke outside when your kid’s around. And cigarettes only. Cute kid, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She couldn’t believe that Billy was being considerate enough to outlaw simple cigarette smoke in front of her son. He was just full of surprises. “So how’d things go today?” she asked his roommate, hoping to get a little insight before she actually went in and saw for herself.

“I don’t know, I just got off work,” he replied. “Looked like they’re gettin’ along pretty good, though.”

Her heart fluttered with hopefulness. Maybe this could actually work.

She left Lorenzo to his smoke break and went inside. Billy and Garret were in the living room, sitting together on the couch. Garret was on Billy’s lap, and Billy’s acoustic guitar was on his. It looked as though Billy were giving him a music lesson.

“Alright, so you’re gonna put this finger there and your ring finger there,” Billy said, helping Garret position his fingers on the chords. “And then you just strum.”

Garret dragged the guitar pick down over all the strings and smiled excitedly.

“There you go. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah!”

Isabel smiled as she stood back and watched him. They were so into what they were doing that they didn’t even see her. It was absolutely heartwarming to see Garret look so happy. He never looked like that around Alex. And Billy . . . she could barely even fathom the transformation, but he actually reminded her a lot of Michael in that moment. Seeing him and Garret together felt strangely right. Maybe she was meant to see a lot more of that. Maybe this was the next best thing to Michael. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Billy finally noticed her and said, “Uh-oh, looks like your mom’s here. We’re gonna have to cut today’s lesson short. But I’ll teach you more next time. How’s that sound?”

“Cool!” Garret exclaimed, hopping down off Billy’s lap. “Mommy! I’m gonna play, um . . . what’s that?”

“Guitar,” Billy filled in.

“Yeah. I’m gonna play that.”

“Looks like you two had fun today,” Isabel commented. The fact that Billy had managed to keep Garret entertained for six hours was remarkable. And he’d even managed to do something educational with the guitar lesson.

“We played some games, made some music. It was great,” Billy said, setting his guitar aside.

“I’m actually impressed,” she admitted.

“Yeah? How impressed?”

“Very.”

He lowered his voice and moved closer to her so Garret couldn’t hear. “Enough to go through with the d-word?”

“Yeah.” Today had been a test, and much to her astonishment, Billy had passed with flying colors.

He grinned excitedly. “See? I told you this could work.”

For the first time since he’d suggested the idea, she truly believed the same. “Garret, it’s time to go,” she said. “Say goodbye to Billy.”

“Bye, Billy.” He opened up his arms for a hug.

“Bye, little man.” Billy bent down and hugged him, and then they did some kind of secret handshake thing that made Garret giggle. Isabel almost fell over as she witnessed their interaction. Who would have known Billy was capable of this? She sure as hell hadn’t.

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

After Isabel and Garret left, all the nerves Billy had kept hidden all day shot to life. He’d put on an Academy Award-worthy performance all the while Garret had been there, tried to act as calm, cool, and collected as possible; and he knew he had succeeded. Isabel was getting a divorce, and then he would do the stepdad thing every day. Hopefully it would get to the point where it felt natural, where he didn’t spend every single minute of his interaction with Garret worrying that he would fuck things up. The boy was a good kid. He really wanted to be a part of his life. And part of Isabel’s, of course.

With the stress of the day dissipating, he ran upstairs for a cool-down. He unlocked the padlock he’d placed on his nightstand drawer and pulled it open to take out his coke vial. He quickly arranged two lines on a mirror and snorted them. He’d meant what he’d said about quitting drugs. He was going to quit soon, and he was going to be one of the good guys. There was no other alternative.








TBC . . .

-April

[April]

A Saturday update instead of a Sunday one. Why? Because I like you. And also because I have nothing better to do.

Leila:

I'd never have thought that Max and Tess would have something in common after breaking up.

I didn't intend for it to go that direction, but that's the direction it took, and when I started noticing all those commonalities, I just had to throw a scene in there. I always like writing the scenes between the characters that don't interact much in this fic.

Billy also thinks he will be great with the kid when Isabel gets the divorce and he stops the drugs. But he won't. If he now needed drugs to cool down, then he will always need them.

It definitely doesn't seem promising, but right now, Billy's doing a good job fooling Isabel.

BB:

Poor Miley. By the time Maria actually gets around to telling her the truth about sex, she's going to have been given so many false explanations she won't know what to believe.

I know, right? It'd be a lot easier to just give her the cliffnotes version of what sex is and leave it at that.

I do not like the Max/Tess thing. A few martinis and who knows where that would end up.

Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't do that. They may both be hating their lives right now, but Tess will always remember that Max raped her best friend. She would never do anything with him.

Ellie:

First off, I knew he didn't kick the drug habit. Kicking it for someone else ... not exactly the motivation to stay permanently off the sauce. You have to want to do it for yourself, or else it won't stick.

Definitely, I agree.

Yikes! Tess and Max made me nervous ... drunk ex-lovers commiserating about their lack luster relationships does not make a good recipe. For a minute ... I thought those two would be doing the horizontal mambo. And that just left me feeling sick and disgusted. No more Tess and Max talks about sex or relationship while drunk, please!

Don't worry, it's like I said to BB, that'll never happen.

Novy:

And one day of taking care of Garret, Isabel should know better than to base putting Billy more in Garret's life on that.

She should definitely know better. She's a smart, calculating person, but we've seen in the past that when her emotions take control, she makes impulsive decisions that usually end up backfiring on her. So we'll have to see if this time is any different.

Women cheating is not as widely done. I love the switch.

Well, and it's hard not to see the karma, since Max cheated on Tess back in 521.

dreambeliever: Hey there! I missed you!

Maybe he's rejecting her because he's scared she's going to trick him? Which seems like she is, seeing as she flushed her pills down the toilet.

Maybe. Although I don't think Kyle even suspects that Tess would do something like that. I think he's just worried that, if they have sex again before they address their problems, they'll just end up sweeping all their problems under the rug and going back to normal; and "normal" hasn't been working well for them. Kyle wants to straighten out their issues, but I suppose he could be making more of an effort, too, i.e. actually suggesting that they sit down and have a conversation and trying to communicate, for once.

Neve: I just couldn't keep up with the pace I'd set for myself, so yeah, weekly updates now. It works for now.

I can't believe that after everyting that's already happened and the things that are starting to happen you're still saying that you haven't got things underway yet. What else can go wrong?

Well, I can't say much, but when things really kick into gear . . . you'll know it when it happens. Without a doubt. But there might be some fake-outs up until that point.

Rodney:

Was she role playing the same Veruca from Buffy that broke up Willow/Oz(a fact I'm still pissed about!)

No, I just needed a name, and I thought that sounded like an over-the-top seductive name, so I went with it. Yeah, I'm still pissed about that, too. I've started my roommate on Buffy now, and we're on ep. 2X15, "Phases," where Oz finds out he's a werewolf. My goal is that, by the end of the series, she'll realize how superior BtVS is to Twilight.


Thanks for the feedback! Mucho appreciation!

Okay, so first things first: Another music part. "Space Monkey" by Placebo became an instant favorite of mine when I heard it, so I'm suggesting it when you see if you'd like to give it a listen.

And I feel the need to warn that there are some disturbing things in this part. Very disturbing. So just be aware of that.








Part 64








“So how long are you parents gonna be gone?” Tiffany asked her foster brother that night.

Lukas sat down next to her on the couch with two sodas in hand. “Awhile,” he replied. “Kelsey’s dance recitals usually take hours. That’s why I decided to stay home.”

She pulled the tab back on her can and said, “I feel like I should’ve gone.”

“No, I needed you to keep me company and watch classic cartoons,” he said, motioning towards the TV. They were watching Pinky and the Brain.

“Are they gonna adopt her?” she inquired, just out of her own curiosity. The Shillings parents seemed like good people, and she secretly always hoped that she would end up with foster parents who loved her enough to make her a permanent part of their family.

“Who, Kelsey?” he asked in return. “Probably. She’s been here for years. Hey, maybe they’ll adopt you, too, and then we can hang out like this all the time. It’s been fun, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He smiled and took a drink of his soda. “So how’d you sleep last night? That’s bed’s kinda . . .”

“Oh, it’s a lot better than my last one,” she assured him. “But yeah, it’s always kinda hard to sleep the first night in a new house. Tonight should be better.”

He turned to look at her and grinned. “Maybe you should sleep in my bed.”

She frowned in confusion. “Huh?”

“There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. All of a sudden, something didn’t feel right.

“You’re fourteen, right?”

“I’m twelve.” She’d already told him that ten times.

His eyes roamed over her, and he leaned forward to set his soda can down on the coffee table. “You look older.”

She tried to inconspicuously scoot away, but he inched towards her and put one arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“What’re you doing?” she asked, bristling. He didn’t respond, just trailed his hand down her shoulder and arm to touch her chest.

“Hey, stop,” she yelped, swatting his hand away.

“Come on,” he urged, keeping his arm around her. “I thought we were having fun.”

“We were.” She tried to get up, but he grabbed her and pulled her back down.

“Loosen up,” he said, nuzzling his face against the side of her neck. “This is your home now.”

( )

She sat stiff as a board, her heart beating a mile a minute under a chest that wasn’t even developed yet. She glanced around nervously for an escape, but there wasn’t one. She couldn’t slip out either the front door or the back door, because he could see her from where he was sitting. And she’d already checked out all the windows, just in case. They all had childproof locks on them. Even if she had managed to slip away, he was bigger and faster. He’d catch her.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said quickly when he tried to kiss her. “Wait here.” She got to her feet and hurried down the hallway, glancing around frantically for some kind of weapon. She saw a baseball bat in Lukas’s bedroom, so she grabbed it and slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door. There was no lock, so she sat down on the floor, determined to keep it shut with her own weight if she had to. She took the cell phone her social worker had given her out of her pocket and quickly dialed the number of someone who would help her.

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

Max hit the side of his crappy television when all it would show was static. “Dammit,” he swore, shaking it almost violently. He was about two seconds away from tossing the whole thing out the window when his phone rang. He answered it with a shrill, “What?”

“Max?” a soft voice whimpered.

“Tiffany?” He immediately tensed.

“Can you come get me?” she cried quietly. “I’m really scared.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just hurry. He’s really freaking me out.”

He. Whoever he was, Max hated him. “Call 911,” he told her. “I’ll be there.” He shoved his phone closed and searched around the living room of his trailer frantically for his car keys.

“Max,” Liz said, coming out of the bedroom, “I really need to talk to you.”

“Were are my keys?” He lifted the couch cushions and tossed them aside.

“It’s . . . about a guy,” Liz went on. “I’ve been feeling attracted to this guy.”

He found his keys underneath one of the cushions. “Liz, I can’t deal with this right now.” He flew out the door, leaving her staring at him with a flabbergasted look on her face.

It only took him minutes to get to Tiffany’s at the speed he drove, but it felt like hours. He jumped out of the car and sprinted for the front door. “Tiffany!” he shouted, pounding his fists against it when he couldn’t get it to open. He turned the knob furiously, but it was locked, so he took a step back and kicked the door open, breaking the lock. “Tiffany!” he yelled, barging into the living room. The TV was on, and there was a baseball bat lying on the floor at the front end of the hallway.

He heard whimpering coming from the bedroom, followed by her voice crying, “No!”

He ran down the hallway and threw open the door to her bedroom. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. She was pinned on her bed by her foster brother. He was trying to pull her pants off.

“Max!” she wailed when she saw him.

Her perpetrator immediately backed away from her, holding his hands up. “This isn’t want it looks like.”

“Get off her!” Max roared, charging into the room. He grabbed Lukas by his shirt and slammed him back against the wall, punching him in the face not once, not twice, but three times. He fell to the floor in a heap.

“Get outta here,” he told Tiffany. She didn’t need to see this.

She ran out of the room, pulling her pants back up as she did so.

“We were just having fun,” Lukas said, struggling to get back on his feet.

Max slammed his elbow into his face, letting the rage take over. It wasn’t fun. Not for the girl. He knew that. He’d always known.

He shook Lukas forcefully, loving the sound of his skull hitting the wall, and then he kneed him in the groin. Suddenly he was the one who couldn’t even put up a fight. He was defenseless. “How’s it feel, huh?” he roared, tossing him onto the floor like a ragdoll. He jumped on top of him, straddling his worthless carcass, and just kept swinging his fists. The accumulating blood on Lukas’s face was never enough. There needed to be more.

Max clamped his left hand down on Lukas’s throat and punched him repeatedly with his right hand. He stared down into the horrified eyes of the monster, and he saw himself there. He saw the Max Evans who moved inside of girls when they were unconscious, when the drugs had taken the desired effect. He saw the Max Evans who had done that for the first time in high school, the one who hadn’t let up for years. So many years. So many girls. He saw two monsters in one, and he saw Tiffany’s fearful eyes as she had stared up into her foster brother’s face. Him, hovering above her . . .

The violence was never enough. This guy deserved to die.

“Max!”

He forced himself to stop when he heard her cry out to him. She stood in the doorway, just a kid. He could hear the terror in her voice, and he felt it coursing through him alongside the rage. His hand was covered in blood and poised to strike again. When he looked down, he could barely make out any of Lukas’s features. His face looked more like a pool blood than a face, and he wasn’t moving. Max scrambled backwards, forcing himself to his feet. He closed the door to the room so Tiffany wouldn’t have to see and brought her out into the living room.

She held up her phone weakly and said, “I called 911.”

He breathed raggedly, trying to steady himself. His hand felt like it was on fire. Somewhere in hell, his father was getting a big laugh out of all this, out of the fact that he had been such a horrible parent that he’d screwed his son up to the point where he was beating up himself as much as the other guy. He was probably proud of all the speeches he’d given telling Max that women were things and that sex was a man’s prerogative, that he could get it however he wanted to, whenever he wanted to, and whoever he wanted it from. Even if she didn’t want the same thing.

Tiffany’s entire body shook, and all of a sudden she was sobbing, the high-pitched, shuddering sobs of a girl who was completely innocent. Max set aside his own emotions and pulled her to him, hugging her tightly. She clung to him and cried as police sirens sounded and blue and red flashing lights flared up outside.

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

Isabel sat beside Alex’s bed that night, watching him sleep. She thought about nudging him to wake him up so they could have the inevitable divorce talk, but that didn’t seem like a very good idea considering the fact that Garret was asleep across the hall. Talking would turn into yelling. There was no way around it. A divorce was going to blindside Alex, even though he should have seen it coming.

Since she couldn’t seem to drop the bomb on him out loud, she quietly opened up his desk drawer and found a piece of paper and a pen. She wrote the words effortlessly: Dear Alex, I want a divorce. I also want full custody of Garret. Just thought I’d let you know. Straightforward, to the point, and simplistic. Really, what more was there to say?

She smirked and folded the letter in half, writing To my husband on the front. Asking for a divorce in writing was so bitchy, but Alex definitely deserved the full amount of her bitchiness. She carefully set the letter down next to his alarm clock so that it would be the first thing he saw when he woke up. What a morning tomorrow would be.

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

The blood had dried onto Max’s hand by the time he got home that evening. He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove up to his trailer, hoping the blood would crack and fall off. But it didn’t.

“My social worker’s gonna wonder where I am,” Tiffany said, curled up in the passenger’s seat. She was wearing about five layers of clothing, but she still looked small.

“I’m not gonna let you go to some group home,” he said, not even willing to consider the idea. “You can stay here tonight. You can stay however long you want to.”

She tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. “Thanks.”

He got out of the car and went around to her side, opening the door for her.

“He can’t find me here, can he?” she asked as she slid off the seat.

“No, they sent him to the hospital.”

“But what if he escapes?”

“He won’t,” Max assured her. “They’ll have him handcuffed to the bed or under surveillance or something. And they’re gonna send him to jail as soon as they can.” The last part was more wish than fact. He knew there were plenty of guys who weren’t brought to justice for this sort of thing. Hell, he was one of them.

Tiffany tried to stand, but it was as if all the energy had vanished from her body, and she fell against him.

“Whoa.” He held her up, and upon realizing she hadn’t the strength to walk the short distance from his car to the trailer, scooped her up in his arms and carried her the distance.

Liz was waiting for him in the living room when he walked in the door. “Max, what’s . . .” Her eyes bulged when she saw Tiffany. “What’s going on? Tiffany?”

He ignored his wife for the moment and carried the little girl into the bedroom, setting her down on the bed. “You can sleep in here tonight,” he told her. “I’ll go get another blanket.”

She just nodded and curled up on her side.

“What happened?” Liz kept pestering as he headed back out into the living room to grab the afghan off the back of the couch. “What’s wrong with your hand?”

He was pretty sure he’d broken two fingers.

“Max.”

Sensing that she wasn’t going to let up until he answered her, he gave in. “I almost killed a guy tonight.”

“What?” she shrieked.

“I took off earlier because Tiffany needed me. Her foster brother was . . .” He trailed off, too disgusted to even finish his sentence.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, understanding. “Is she okay?”

“No.” She’d almost just had her virginity forcibly taken away from her at the ripe old age of twelve.

“Are you okay?”

“No, Liz.” He hadn’t been okay for a long time, and tonight was no exception. He went back into the bedroom and shut the door. He appreciated his wife’s concern, but hopefully she would give him and Tiffany space tonight to work through the situation together. Liz didn’t understand. Not really. She wasn’t a rapist and she’d never been underneath one; she’d just married one.

“Here.” He draped the afghan over Tiffany, surprised that she wasn’t overheated with all the layers she had on. It was almost as if the clothes were her armor now.

“Sorry to cause problems for you and Liz,” she apologized.

“There’s no problem.”

“Does your hand still hurt?”

Anything he was feeling had to pale in comparison to what she was feeling. “Don’t worry about me.”

She sat up slowly, wrapping the blanket around herself like a shawl. “Are you gonna get in trouble for hitting him?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” He was trying not to think about that. For now, the police weren’t charging him with anything because Lukas’s injuries didn’t appear to be life-threatening, but if he took a sudden turn for the worst in the hospital, that could all change.

“You were so mad, Max.”

“I wanted to kill him,” he admitted, swallowing hard. He stared down at his blood-covered knuckles and recalled the feel of flesh beneath his fist, molding and sculpting it into a new shape with every single punch. “To tell you the truth, I wish I had.”

“I shouldn’t have called you.”

“No, it’s good that you did.” He’d told her that she could call him whenever she needed him, and tonight, she had most definitely needed him.

“This was supposed to be a better home,” she said, shuddering. “But I think I was better off getting black eyes.”

He frowned, worried for her. It was happening, that invisible process of a child becoming damaged for life. He saw it happening, and all he wanted to do was stop it. “Tiffany, you deserve better than this,” he told her, kneeling down in front of her. “Better than all of this. Nobody should ever hit you or touch you without your permission.” He lowered his head and mumbled with shame, “Nobody should ever do that to anyone.” God, he was such a hypocrite.

“One minute we were sitting there watching TV,” she said, “and then he started getting really weird. He was saying stuff and . . . I told him to stop, but he didn’t.”

Max clenched his fist again as she relayed the events to him. He’d overheard bits and fragments of it as she had been talking to the police, but hearing it now . . . hearing that quiver in her voice and seeing the tears rolling down her cheeks . . .

“I went in the bathroom and called you. I was about to call 911, but he came in and took my phone away from me. I tried to hit him with the baseball bat, but I wasn’t strong enough. He dragged me into my bedroom and tried to . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “You got there just in time.”

He hated to think of what would have happened had he gotten there just a minute later. It was bad enough that he’d let it happen in the first place. He’d met the damn kid. Shouldn’t he have known? Shouldn’t he have been able to look in his eyes right up front and see the same darkness that existed in himself? One rapist to another, that kind of thing.

“I’m scared now,” she choked out. “I’m just a kid. Why do people wanna hurt me?”

It seemed to Max that people always hurt kids, either intentionally or unintentionally. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again,” he promised, not sure if he had the power to ensure that or not. “Not if I can help it.” If it had come down to killing Lukas in order to rescuing Tiffany tonight, he would have done it without a second thought.

She learned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck to hug him. “You saved me,” she murmured, pillowing her head on his shoulder. “You’re my hero, Max.”

Those words hit his heart like knives. If she knew what he’d done, she wouldn’t be saying that. He felt like a fraud, because she thought he was one of the good guys, and that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

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

Just nine more minutes, please, Alex thought when his alarm went off that morning. He reached over onto his nightstand, his eyes still closed, fumbling for the off switch. It was supposed to be the radio that woke him up, but he didn’t have it tuned correctly, so it was just static.

He shut the alarm off, resisting the urge to press sleep. As he was bringing his hand back, he felt something beneath his fingertips. Paper. He confusedly opened his eyes and saw a letter on his nightstand that said To my husband on the front.

Weird, he thought, sitting up. Since when did Isabel write him notes? What if it was some psycho love poem?

He unfolded the letter, hoping for the best, but when he saw what she had written him, his entire heart sank.

A divorce.

A divorce.

A divorce?

He crumpled the letter up in his hands, pissed that he hadn’t thought of it first. The divorce didn’t bother him half as much as the custody did.

He trundled downstairs before even going to the bathroom and found Isabel and Garret in the kitchen. “So you couldn’t even tell me to my face,” he snapped at her accusingly. “Real slick, Isabel.”

“Go upstairs, Garret,” she said hastily.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I said so.”

He grabbed his cereal bowl and ran upstairs, sloshing milk all over the steps.

“I can’t believe you’d tell me in a letter,” he growled. The woman had no respect for him, which wasn’t exactly news, but still . . . “A letter?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s better to write stuff down.”

“You want a divorce? Fine, you got it,” he decided. “But I’ll be damned if I let you take full custody of Garret.”

She smiled, seemingly unthreatened. “Tough talk. Too bad you have no follow-through.”

“You tried to take him away from me once, before he was even born,” he reminded her. “If you couldn’t do it then, what makes you think you can do it now?”

“Well, the fact that you’re a drunk, for starters,” she replied calmly. “Remember that time you left Garret freezing in the car while you went into the bar to get trashed?”

“What?” He had no idea what she was talking about. “No.” He’d blacked some stuff out over the years, but there was no way he would’ve done that. Ever. Right?

“Well, I remember,” she said. “So do Max and Liz. I’m sure I could convince at least one of them to testify to that. Oh, and how about the fact that you’re unemployed? Or what about your sleazy affair with Caroline? The list goes on and on, Alex.”

“Look who’s talking!” he roared. “You’re fucking Billy!”

“But you got Caroline pregnant.”

“She miscarried.”

“Did she?” She grinned devilishly. “Maybe you convinced her to have an abortion. Maybe that shows a real lack of ethics on your part. Maybe a little bit of money could convince her to say that.”

Oh my god, he thought, staring at her in astonishment. She was going to smear his name from here to kingdom come, even if that meant fabricating lies. She excelled at that. “What money?” he asked, trying to act as calm as she was.

“Oh, you forget, I have a job. Unlike you.”

He grunted. “Yeah, at an adult video store.”

“Pays the bills.”

“I wonder what a judge would make of your work as a stripper. Or the restraining order Michael and Maria had to get against you. Or the drunken outburst you had at Max and Liz’s wedding. Maybe you’re an alcoholic, too.” The woman had a lot of ammo against him, but he had plenty against her, too. “Or here’s an oldie but a goodie: How about the time you vandalized your brother’s house and went to jail for it?”

“Take your best shot,” she taunted. “Nothing compares to deadbeat dad.”

“What about Billy? The drug addict,” he said emphatically. “He’s a real good influence on a kid.”

“Actually, he is,” Isabel insisted. “You should’ve seen the two of them together yesterday. They had a great time.”

“Yesterday?” he echoed. “He was with our son?”

“Well, they had to get to know each other. They’re gonna be a part of each other’s lives from here on out.”

Billy? He felt like he wanted to rip his hair out. How the fuck could that guy be a better parent? “So that’s your master plan, huh? Divorce me, start up an insta-family with him?” He laughed angrily. “Well, at least you’re finally over Michael.”

“Oh, I’m not over him,” she assured him at once. “I love him, and if I somehow ever get the chance to be with him again, I’m gonna take it. But for now, Billy and Garret and I have the chance to be something good. We might actually get to be happy. I’m not gonna let you stand in the way of that.”

“Too bad,” he said, surprised by the fight in his own words, “because I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna get full custody of my son, and when I do, he’s never gonna see you again. You and Billy can ride off into the sunset, and you can fantasize about Michael all you want. You’re a crazy, self-centered bitch, and I’m more than ready to be rid of you. So is Garret.”

She rolled her eyes.

“This . . .” He held up the short but impacting letter. “This was a fantastic idea, because now I can get him away from you before you mess him up as much as your dad messed up you. Bring it on, Isabel.” He tore the letter in half and threw both pieces at her before storming back upstairs. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get custody of his son, but he was determined to find some kind of way.









TBC . . .

-April

[April]

I'm going to knock this update out today because I'm going home for fall break until Wednesday.

Leila:

As for SuperMax, he did the right thing in saving Tiffany because he likes Tiffany and right now she's the one person that makes him human. She's his motivation to become a better person. But he's still a hypocrite and always be a hypocrite because of his actions in the past.

at SuperMax. You're right, though, that he is and always will be a hypocrite. All the good deeds in the world can't wash away the sins of the past.

Ellie:

And while I'm glad that Max got there in time to save Tiffany from a horrible experience that is sure to stay with her for her entire life ... I just don't know what to make of his actions.

I feel like Max is just permanently stuck in a grey area on the scale of good to bad. He's losing all sense of his old self as he's trying to reconstruct this new and improved self, and it's very confusing.

Novy:

I'm just on my way out of town for our thanksgiving weekend and I just found out there will be no internet. It's ridiculous but whatever.

Welcome to my world.

I wish Max could really protect Tiffany but he's in no shape to really be her hero. He's just as bad as that guy is. I don't even know how to reconcile that.

I don't know how to reconcile it, either. I made a sacred vow to myself that I would never compromise this character by making him a Prince Charming/Knight in Shining armor with no strings/issues attached, so I hope the issues are entertaining and believable.

You weren't kidding when you said it hadn't started yet.

Well . . . it still hasn't really started. Things are beginning to amp up, though.

dreambeliever:

as usual Max is ignoring his wife, Liz tried to talk to him, I wish he would just sit down and talk to his wife.

Obviously there was no way he could sit down and have that conversation with her right then and there, but Liz didn't know that. And now that that moment has passed, who knows if she'll work up the courage to try to talk to him about it again. And like you said, he's ignoring her.

Farrah: Pretty icon!

Does Max even love Liz anymore???

Don't get me wrong - I'm was relieved that he did what he did for Tiffany. It was right of him to drop everything and run - if he hadn't...*shudder.*

BUT

He just seems to have no interest in his wife or there relationship AT ALL! I'm pretty sure he hasn't said more than a few words to her, since he told her her mouth should only be open when he wants to put his ho-hum in it (or something to that affect).

When he does finally get around to hearing that Liz is into another guy, I really don't think it'll matter much to him.

That's really a great question, and a thorny one at that. I feel like Max will always love Liz, but Max's love has and always will be a very complex kind of love, and sometimes it doesn't show itself at all. I sort of feel like Max is being very paradoxical right now in that he's being both selfless and selfish. Selfless because he's made this slightly insane but somewhat admirable decision to take on this father role with Tiffany and really put her needs above his own. But selfish because he has completely forgotten about the one person who cares about him the most, his wife, and is only focused on being a better person by helping Tiffany rather than being a better person by also helping their marriage.

I realize he's going through a lot...and he's actually a better man because of all his difficulties...but I feel bad for Liz. She stuck with him through all the crap and now he just doesn't give a damn.

I know a lot of people don't feel bad for Liz at all in this fic, but I do . . . but only to a degree. She knew who she was marrying and she knew it wouldn't be easy. But at the same time . . . yeah, she really has tried to stand by him and be patient with him while he's going through this crisis-like part of his life.

BB:

It's so interesting to see Max in this position, for him to have such a dramatic moment of realisation about what kind of a monster he is.

That was such a difficult scene to write. Like you said, it was a realization. Like an epiphany. I think that, for the first time, Max truly and completely felt bad about what he'd done. And by allowing himself to feel that bad, he's confronting the monster within. Not a fun thing for anyone to have to do.

You know, I never anticipated that Max's storyline would get this complex (and Liz's, too, for that matter). When I started off this sequel, I knew what I wanted to do with all the other characters, but all I knew I wanted to do with them was get them married and make them poor. It's really taken on a life of it's own, and I'm glad it has.

Could this divorce be the kickstart that Alex needs to finally get sober and wise up? Fingers crossed.

Fingers crossed indeed.

Also. We had to wait a whole week and then no candy?! WTF April? W. T. F.

I knew I was going to catch heck about that.

Rodney:

Is Isabel on some of Billy's drugs at the moment?!! Why in the freaking HELL would she think Max or Liz would go to court on her side?! It was HER who lied and wrote that fake article that put Liz and Max in the poor house! They're not going to forget that and be on her side!

I've always felt like Isabel is one of those characters who "gets high," so to speak, on whatever emotion she's feeling, and right now, I think she's feeling very arrogant and powerful. Invincible. But she's not.

I don't want to say it April.....no you can't make me......no I won't do it.....ohhhh okay maybe just a little....'good job Max'....damn that almost hurt me to say it

Well, I'd be more concerned if you didn't say it. There's really no arguing that Max did a very good thing by saving Tiffany.

Neve:

Poor little Tiffany. She had her hopes up that this foster family was going to work out and it's sad to see her hopes crushed in such a violent and horrible way.

I know. It was painful to write.

I wonder if maybe, deep down somewhere he has buried the memory of Isabel being abused by their father too and that's why his reaction was so extreme?

Maybe. This is something that I'll try to touch on much later in the story.


Thank you for the feedback! I know that last part was . . . difficult. And dark. And depressing. Pretty much any word that starts with D.








Part 65








Liz peeked into the bedroom. Tiffany lay curled up on the bed, her arm dangling off the side. Max was on the floor, also asleep. The fatherly role he had so effortlessly taken on with her was simultaneously touching and frightening. Liz wasn’t sure what to think about it, so she tried to think mostly about Tiffany. The poor girl had been through so much already at such a young age.

Telling Max about Brandon and that kiss was going to have to wait. There were bigger, more important things going on. Or maybe she shouldn’t even tell him. That was probably for the best.

A rapid knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. She closed the door to the bedroom and went to answer it. Alex stood on the other side, looking disheveled as though he’d just woken up.

“Hey,” she said, not sure why he was there. Didn’t he have class?

“Hey,” he returned, sounding out of breath. “Is Max around?”

“Um, yeah, but he’s sleeping before he goes in for questioning,” she replied.

“Questioning?” Alex’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh my god, does she already have a lawyer?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“What’re you talking about?”

She stepped aside to let him in. “Max was involved in an . . . incident last night,” she said carefully.

“What kind of incident?”

She pulled the door shut behind him so that none of their neighbors could hear. “You remember Tiffany?”

“Yeah.”

“She was sexually assaulted last night. By her own foster brother.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Max rescued her and beat the guy to a bloody pulp.”

“Oh my god.” Alex looked shocked and disgusted.

“I know, it’s horrible. The poor girl. She’s asleep in there right now.”

Alex raised a questioning eyebrow. “With Max?”

“It’s not pervy. It’s like . . . paternal.”

“Paternal?” he echoed. “That’s . . . important. Paternity’s important.”

“The good news is, it doesn’t look like he’s gonna get charged with anything. At least not yet.” She sighed heavily, dreading the thought of what would happen to them if he was punished for this. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but justice wasn’t always exactly just.

“Well, I hate to pile on the stress,” Alex said, wiping his hands against his pants, “but Isabel and I are getting a divorce.”

Her first instinct was to be sympathetic. “Oh, Alex, that’s . . .” But then she remembered how miserable they were together, and she was more inclined to be glad for him. “That’s been a long time coming. How do you feel about it?”

“Like I just got sucker-punched,” he admitted. “She told me in a letter.”

“Seriously? What a coward.” She squeezed his arm supportively, hoping the messy matters of the divorce would be as cut and dried as possible. “So what happens now? Who gets custody?”

“I guess we’ll have to fight it out,” he replied. “That’s actually why I came here. I was wondering if I could get the number of your attorney.”

“Oh, well, he’s not really our attorney anymore. I can probably get his number for you, but he’s a high-priced guy. He won’t represent anyone for less than five-hundred thousand dollars.”

“Crap,” Alex muttered.

“But, I mean, he has associates he could probably put you into contact with. They’re more in your price range.” She hated that discouraged look on his face. He needed to be hopeful in a time like this. “I’ll find his number,” she said, slipping into their pathetic excuse for a hallway.

“Thanks.”

She opened up their one and only closet and dug past towels and clothes to get to their file box. It was where Max kept all his important financial documents over the years. She took the lid off the box and sat down in the middle of the hallway, searching for some kind of documentation from the lawyer. A bill, a business card, anything.

He knelt down next to her and said, “Listen, if Isabel comes to you and Max asking you guys to testify against me, promise me you won’t do it. I need you guys on my side. You know I’m the better parent.”

Liz bit her bottom lip nervously.

“You do know that, don’t you?”

She nodded, though she wasn’t quite sure. “Right.”

He saw right through the fake affirmation. “Oh, come on, Liz. You really think he’s better off with her? You know her. You know what she’s like.”

She pressed her index finger to her lips and whispered, “Shh.” Max and Tiffany didn’t need to overhear any of this while they were sleeping. “I also know that you have a drinking problem,” she reminded him quietly. She wasn’t trying to be mean; she was just pointing out the obvious. “I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but if you’re really serious about this, if you really think you have what it takes to be a single dad, you need to step up to the plate and quit drinking.” Maybe this would be the perfect motivation.

“Are you gonna support me or Isabel?” he asked bluntly.

“You, of course.” At the end of day, Alex and Isabel both needed to change, and he was the one she had more faith in. She found a billing statement from the attorney and handed it to him. “Here you go,” she said. “It’s got all his contact information on there. It’s pretty recent, so I doubt anything changed.”

“Thanks.” He folded up the statement and put it in his coat pocket.

“Good luck,” she said, trying to smile supportively.

He nodded and headed for the door. On his way out, he stopped and said, “I hope things work out okay for that girl.”

Liz looked at the closed bedroom door. Tiffany needed an even bigger miracle than Alex did.

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

“Frank!” Miley exclaimed when the dog came to greet them at the door, tail wagging and tongue hanging out. She sat down beside him and started to roll around on the floor. Macy tripped and fell next to them and giggled as Frank sniffed at her.

“Where’s Mama?” Miley asked.

“She’s gonna be at school for awhile tonight,” Michael answered, carrying two armfuls of grocery sacks into the kitchen. “She’s got a project to work on. Which means I’m gonna cook dinner tonight.” He set the sacks down on the table and took out the box on top. “How do chicken nuggets sound?” he asked, holding it up.

“Good,” Miley approved. Frank yelped, and she swatted at Macy’s hand. “Don’t pull his tail, Macy.”

“Miley, be nice to your sister. Macy, be nice to Frank.” He headed back outside to get the rest of the groceries. As he was opening the door to the backseat of the car, he saw Alex across the street, getting into his car. When Alex saw him, he immediately came over.

“Hey, Michael, is this a good time?”

“Not really.” He had a dinner to cook. “What were you doing at my neighbor’s house?”

“Turns out two of your neighbors are lawyers. Max and Liz’s lawyer—well, ex-lawyer—referred me to them. I think I picked the best one.”

“Why do you need a lawyer?” he asked, lifting two more grocery sacks out of the backseat. “Isabel thing?”

“Yeah, we’re getting a divorce.”

Michael pushed the back door shut with his knee. “I figured.”

“Nobody seems very surprised by this,” Alex mumbled, following him towards the house.

“Well, she mentioned it to me.”

“She mentioned it?” he echoed. “What, you two have friendly talks now?”

Michael set the sacks down inside the house and then shut the door. Miley and Macy didn’t need to overhear a conversation about divorce. “Are you gonna fight for custody?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Of course. I’m not just gonna roll over and play dead, surrender my kid to her and Billy the way she wants me to.”

“Billy? He’s in on it?”

“Oh, yeah. Apparently he’s all set to play stepdad.”

Michael shook his head, not able to picture it. Billy had no sense of responsibility and no ambition. He wasn’t cut out for it. “If it makes you feel any better,” he said, “I really don’t see that happening.”

“Look, I know our last conversation wasn’t exactly friendly,” Alex acknowledged quickly, “but I really need your help.”

Great, Michael thought sarcastically. This didn’t sound good.

“If it comes down to it, will you testify that Isabel forged your paternity test results?” he asked pleadingly. “That’s my smoking gun against her. It’s the only thing I’ve got. Please.”

He sounded so desperate. In a sense, Michael felt bad for him, but he could have gotten custody easily if he’d just made some better choices over the years. “I don’t know . . .”

“And you could mention the restraining order you had to get against her,” Alex added. “That would help.”

“We’re not actually enforcing it anymore.”

“Come on, Michael,” he begged. “You told me to act like a man, and that’s what I’m trying to do. But I need your help. Imagine how you would feel if someone was threatening to take your children away from you.”

He would have felt like his world was ending. Luckily, that would never happen.

“I can’t lose my son; I need him. He’s the only good thing I’ve got in my life.”

He can’t just spring this on me and expect an answer, Michael thought, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “I’ll think about it?”

Alex looked . . . not quite pleased, but satisfied with that. “Okay,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “Thanks.” He tripped as he stepped off the porch and almost fell, but regained his balance and headed back to his car.

Michael went inside, not sure what to do. He really didn’t want to get involved, but it seemed inevitable.

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

After Max got back from being questioned at the police station that evening, all he could think about was how to take care of Tiffany. He’d had some vivid dreams that night, some in which he killed the shit out of Lukas and some in which he hadn’t gotten there in time to save her at all. Either way, it didn’t seem like enough.

“How was she today?” he asked Liz.

“Hello to you, too,” she muttered, watching the microwave turntable go round. She was heating up pasta from a box.

“So how was she?” he asked again impatiently.

“Tired,” she replied. “Quiet. What about you?”

He was a walking catastrophe. Didn’t matter. He left Liz to ponder the answer on her own and slipped into the bedroom. Tiffany was sitting up in the bed playing solitaire with a deck of cards she’d found in the nightstand drawer. She looked up when she saw him and smiled a little. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he returned. “Are you winning?”

“No,” she mumbled. “But that’s why I like Solitaire. You either win or you beat yourself.”

She’s so smart, he thought. Was I saying things like that when I was her age? No, because I wasn’t as smart as her. She was everything anyone would ever want in a kid.

“Did the questioning go alright?” she asked, restacking the cards.

“Yeah. They’re not charging me with anything right now, and I doubt the family’s gonna sue. They really don’t have much of a case.”

“That’s good,” she said, sounding relieved. “What about Kelsey?”

He gave her a confused look.

“The other foster daughter,” she explained. “They were gonna adopt her.”

“Maybe they still will.”

“Can they do that anymore? You know, after what happened.”

He sighed. “I’m not sure. But Lukas is the one being charged, not his parents, so . . . maybe.”

“I hope so.” She secured all the cards with a rubber band and put them back in the drawer.

He sat down on the side of the bed and momentarily debated whether or not to tell her the information he’d found out that day before deciding that she deserved to know. “The cops told me he’s done this before,” he started in. “Last year, when he went to college, he assaulted his roommate’s fourteen year-old sister. That’s why he moved back home. He didn’t drop out; he was kicked out. They sentenced him to a year in prison, but they let him out after three months on good behavior.” He grunted. Nothing about that kid’s behavior was good. “The cops said he could get five years this time.” It wasn’t enough, but at least it was something. Even the death penalty would have been too merciful for him, though. “I’m guessing your social worker didn’t know he was living there, otherwise she would’ve sent you somewhere else.”

“Maybe there is nowhere else,” she mumbled, hanging her head. “Sorry, don’t mean to sound so depressing.”

“No, by all means, sound as depressing as you want,” he encouraged. The girl had just been through what would probably forever remain one of the most traumatic experiences of her life. He didn’t expect her to be bubbly and happy for awhile. “I stopped by and got your stuff,” he informed her. “It’s out in my car.” It had all fit into a duffle bag and a suitcase.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll only stay one more night.”

“You can stay longer.” He wanted her to stay longer. His trailer felt a whole lot less horrible with her there. “Listen, Tiffany, I have an idea,” he announced, “but there’s something I need to tell you first. And you’re not gonna like it.”

She frowned. “What is it?”

He swallowed hard. “It’s really hard for me to say, but if I don’t tell you . . .” Fraud! his mind screamed. You’re a fraud! “I’ll feel like I’m lying to you.”

She started to look worried.

“I’m not a hero, Tiffany,” he informed her. “I’m nobody’s hero.”

“You’re mine,” she insisted.

“But I shouldn’t be.” He tugged on the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling as though he couldn’t breathe. What was going to happen when he had to have this conversation with Garret? Would it be easier? Harder?

He rose to his feet and stood against the dresser, wanting her to have her space when he dropped this on her. “Remember how I told you people generally don’t like me?”

She nodded.

“Well, they don’t like me because I’ve done some really horrible things to other people.”

“Like what?” she asked quietly.

“Like what Lukas tried to do to you.”

Her eyes widened, and she scooted back on the bed just slightly.

“Never to anyone your age, but . . .” He trailed off. That didn’t really make a difference. “When I was five years old, I saw my dad slip something into his secretary’s drink,” he told her. “I laid awake that whole night and listened to him rape her. When I asked him about it, he just smiled at me. Nine years later, I did the same thing to a girl in my high school geometry class. And I kept doing it. I did it in college to my ex-girlfriend’s best friend. She’s the only one who remembers it, but it happened. Over and over again.” He could still picture all their faces in his mind. So many girls with their eyes closed and their limbs lifeless as he thrust into them. “I hurt people,” he said, gulping, “and at the time, I found joy in it.” Looking back now, all he felt was self-loathing. “I haven’t done it for years,” he assured her, hating that scared look in her eyes. “I’m never gonna do it again. I’m different now. Back then, my dad . . . he made me think it was okay. I should’ve known better, and I’m not trying to blame him, but he had control over me. I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t.” He felt tears sting his eyes and blinked them away. He wasn’t about to cry over something he was responsible for.

“Max--”

“So now you know.” He had expected it to feel as though a weight had just been lifted on his chest, but it didn’t. He almost felt worse now than he had before. “I’m not a hero. I’m a monster.”

It took her a moment to say anything. She looked a little stunned. “I didn’t know . . .”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

That fearful look in her eyes started to recede, and she smiled at him again. “But you’re different now,” she said.

“Am I?” He could say it, but he couldn't quite believe it. He’d just nearly killed another man the night before. He didn’t regret it or think it was the wrong thing to do, but that didn’t exactly scream protagonist. He wasn’t sure someone like him could ever be good. “I’m sorry I had to tell you this, but you would’ve found out eventually,” he said, sitting beside her again.

She nodded silently, then asked, “What was your idea?”

“What?” How could she just move on from what he’d just revealed, especially after what had just been done to her? Did she really have that much faith in him? He didn’t feel like he deserved it.

“You said you had an idea, but you had to tell me that other stuff first,” she reminded him. “What was the idea?”

“Oh . . .” He rubbed his forehead, feeling tired. “Maybe now’s not the best time.”

“Max, I’m going back to the group home tomorrow. There’s not gonna be any other time.”

He sighed heavily, now wishing he hadn’t told her about his past. “Alright, fine,” he said, deciding it best to just blurt it out. “I wanna be your foster dad.”

She stared at him in shock for a moment, then squeaked out, “Huh?”

“I want you to live here with me. I’ll take care of you; I’ll never hurt you. I realize that’s kind of hard to believe given what I just told you, but I mean it. I wanna be your foster dad.” Before he’d met her, he never would have envisioned himself saying this.

“But you’re not even that much older than me.”

He shrugged. “Fourteen years.”

“Thirteen,” she corrected.

“See, I’m older and you’re wiser. We make a great team.”

She laughed a little.

“Alright, you don’t have to decide right now,” he assured her. “Just know that I’m willing to, and I want to.” Unlike all those girls he’d taken advantage of over the years, he wanted to.

“What about Liz?” she asked.

“What about her?” If she didn’t like it, too bad. She could get used to it, because he’d made up his mind.

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

When Alex got home that night, his wife—soon to be ex—was sitting outside on the porch wearing a white tank top and jeans. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, and normally, the casual look would have turned him on. But not anymore. He wasn’t going to allow her to use her physical beauty to manipulate him anymore. He was looking to the future, and she wasn’t a part of it.

“You ready to go to battle over this?” he asked, hovering over her.

She glanced up at him unwaveringly. “Always have been.”

“Good, because I got a lawyer today. A good one.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she scoffed. “My lawyer specializes in child custody cases. She’s won ten out of her last eleven.”

“Soon to be ten out of twelve.” He sat down beside her, smirking. He felt a lot more confident about his chances of getting custody now than he had this morning, but inside, he was still mighty nervous. Going up against Isabel was a challenge for any man.

“Alex,” she said in a condescending tone, “I admire your tenacity. Really, I do. It’s kind of refreshing to see that you can fight for what you want. But you’d might as well give up now. You don’t stand a chance. I’ve got so much ammunition on you.”

“I’ve got plenty against you, too,” he assured her, debating whether it was best to keep his cards close to the chest or tell her about them. He loved the thought of being the one to intimidate her for a change.

“I doubt that,” she said, sounding unconcerned. “I’m a mother, I’m not a drunk, and I have a job. Not to mention the fact that this house Max bought for us is in my name. So if you were to get custody—which you won’t—you wouldn’t even have a place to live.” She shrugged.

“I can find a place,” he pointed out. The semester was almost over, and once it was, he would postpone school some more and go back to work somewhere. He wasn’t sure where, but he could find a job, too, if he didn’t fuck up the interview. And once he had a job, he could pay rent on an apartment. He and Garret would be fine.

“There’s one thing you can’t do, though,” she said, grinning smugly. “You can’t quit drinking. That’s the nail in your sorry-ass coffin.”

“I can quit drinking,” he assured her, “and that’s the nail in your coffin. See, I can take away the booze, but you can’t take away the crazy.”

She bristled. “I’m not crazy.”

“Sure you are.” There was no possible way that she was sane. “That’s not what’s gonna bring you down, though.”

“So tell me, what’s gonna bring me down?”

“Two words,” he said, giving her a moment to guess what they were before he revealed, “Paternity. Tests.”

Fear flashed through her eyes. “What?”

“Oh, you didn’t think of that, did you? Caught you off-guard.” He chuckled. “Oh, Isabel, when you forged those paternity tests, you committed a federal crime. You’re lucky I didn’t expose you for it years ago.”

“News-flash, bird-brain: You can’t expose me for it now, because there’s nothing to expose,” she said confidently. “The forged test results are gone. I destroyed them years ago. You can’t prove anything. It’s my word against yours.”

“And Michael’s.”

Everything about her froze, and she looked mortified.

“I already talked to him,” he informed her. “He’s gonna testify against you.”

She blinked back tears and shook her head. “He wouldn’t.”

“He will. And after the judge hears what he has to say, he’ll see you for who you really are: a manipulative, lying bitch. And when he does, all the cleavage and flirty smiles in the world won’t be able to help you.” He got to his feet and headed inside to tuck Garret into bed. For the first time, he had really managed to put Isabel in her place. That boded well for the custody battle to come.

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

Isabel hightailed it over to Michael’s house that night, even though she was sure he was asleep. It was after 11:30 when she pounded on the door. She was about to ring the doorbell when he opened the door, rubbing his eyes. “Isabel, what’re you doing here?” he asked impatiently. “I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, but this is really important,” she said hurriedly. “Is it true?”

He looked at her confusedly. “Is what true?”

“Are you gonna testify against me about the paternity tests?”

He rubbed his forehead and stepped outside, shutting the door.

“So he wasn’t lying,” she concluded upon his the awkward silence. “Oh my god. How could you do this to me?”

“How could I do this to you?” His voice rose up a few decibels and took on a vicious tone. “What about everything you’ve done to me over the years? You cheated on me, made me feel like my life was over. And just when things started to get good for me again, you came back and tried to pass your son off as mine. You almost ruined my life, and you don’t even care.”

“Of course I care,” she argued. “Cheating on you was the biggest mistake of my life; I know that. And ever since then, I’ve been barreling down this path of destruction, but I’m trying to change. I need to start over, just me and my son.”

“And Billy.”

She opened her mouth to try to deny that but quickly realized it was no use. Alex had probably told him that she planned on being with Billy after this. Great. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I will dump him,” she promised. “Just don’t help Alex take my son away from me. Please.” She hated begging, but sometimes it was necessary. Maybe if she’d begged Michael a little harder to head to Florida with her on spring break, her entire life would have been different.

He scratched the back of his neck nervously and said, “I haven’t decided what I’m gonna do.”

“But Alex made it sound like . . .” She breathed a sigh of relief that the decision wasn’t yet made. “He was trying to intimidate me.”

“But clearly it didn’t work,” Michael said sarcastically.

“Look, I know I’ve made mistakes, but Alex isn’t any better,” she pointed out. “I worry he’ll hurt my son. If you saw the way he drinks . . .” She shook her head, noting the concern in Michael’s eyes. Maybe appealing to his paternal instincts would work. “Billy’s dad used to get drunk and hit him a lot,” she revealed. “I could see that happening with Garret and Alex.”

“You really could?”

“Yes.” Technically, she was stretching the truth a little. Or a lot. Alex was a lot of bad things, but a child abuser wasn’t one of them. It seemed like a tactical approach to take, though. “Come on, Michael, how could you take his side over mine? You know me.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

“You loved me once. You used to really love me.”

“Used to,” he echoed. “You’re not the same person anymore, and neither am I.”

“But if I lose Garret, I’ll just die.” He was one of the two most important people in her life. She was talking to the other one. “Michael, I would do anything for you. Please just do this for me.”

He groaned and mumbled, “How do I always get myself into these situations?”

“I realize I have no right to ask, and you’ve already done so much for me,” she acknowledged, actually feeling a little bad that she was putting this stress on him; but she had no choice.

“Honestly, I don’t even feel like I know enough about your marriage and your family to be in this position,” he confessed.

“Michael, every second of my failed marriage has been about you,” she informed him. He had always held a position of power with her family, even if he hadn’t known it. “Please help me. You’re the only one who can.” He was already her hero. If he came through for her this time, he’d be her superhero. Unfortunately for her, his face gave no indication which way he was leaning.








TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Ellie:

I'm never, EVER going to like Max or think that he deserves good things to happen in his life.

That’s totally fine. I’m never really going to like him, either. But I love writing him. Go figure.

Oh Michael ... wonder if he's going to talk this over with Maria and what Maria will say. I have a feeling I know what she'll want Michael to do and then once again - he'll be caught between Maria and Isabel.

Hmm, maybe. But maybe not.

BB:

Holy Jesus Christ. That's two weeks now and still no candy!

Sorry! There’s a little bit in this part, though. The story has just been pretty focused on the dark, twisted Isabel/Alex/Max/Liz storylines lately.

Maria's not going to have the same trouble as Michael's having. They'll have to drag her off the stand.

That’s right.

Surely Liz cheating in him is just days away now.

Well, he’s definitely just continuing to push her away, so . . . it’s quite possible.

Farrah:

Once again - totally insane that I'm typing this, but...

I say Max and Liz get divorced, Liz goes off dating Brandon and finishes school and becomes a better person away from old Max's bad influence. And Max finishes becoming a good guy, eventually adopts Tiffany and everyone lives happily ever after.

Of course I don't think it will work out this neatly. I see messiness ahead.

Lots and lots of messiness

I do love the messiness.

Novy:

I admire your ability to pose these situations and have them be neither black nor white.

Thanks! My favorite thing to do.

Can the judge rule to not grant custody to either of them?

I suppose, but it’s probably very uncommon in cases where both parents are actively seeking custody.

Again I am torn between thinking Tiffany is sane and is just able to see some light in the utter blackness that is human life that others don't, or she has serious problems and doesn't think she deserves anyone with good mental health in her life.

It could be a little bit of both. Tiffany genuinely likes Max and believes the best in him more than anyone else, but she did kind of shut herself off from reacting.

And the fact that he couldn't care less what Liz thinks about having Tiffany in their home just goes to show you how selfish he is. His "good deeds" seems to always be compensated by some kind of act of harm done to someone else.

Definitely. I think that’s why it’s hard to ever truly like Max: he’s never really truly good.

Neve:

April you are the master of the grey areas. You write such amazing complex characters that I love and hate at the same time and who I want to fail and to succeed at the same time. It's amazing.

Aw, thank you! That means a lot. This is something that I’ve tried to work very hard on over the years.

I am really enjoyed Alex and Isabel's divorce battle. It's very war of the Roses. They'll both end up dead before the conceede a single step. I don't know which one I want Garret to end up with. Both are bad and paradoxicaly, both are better/worse than the other.

It’s a sticky situation. It’s quite clear that Garret shouldn’t be with either of them, but that’s not an option.

Max is so ambiguos. I don't know if he's doing this for Tiffany or for himself. I don't know whether I want him to get custody or not. I don't know if I want Liz to stay with him or now.

What I do know is that I want some candy in the next part please.

Your wish is my command!

Rodney:

I see that this Alex is not as smart as the Alex we're all used too seeing in fanfiction....must be all the beer.The reason I say that is why did he go to Michael anyway? He should have went straight to Maria! Maria would not be doing all this soul searching that Michael seems to be doing over Isabel.Nope Maria hates Isabel and would be happy to do it and say "When do I need to show up in court?!"

Going to Maria definitely would have been a good idea. But since Michael actually underwent the paternity test, his testimony would be a lot more powerful and credible.

I swear Michael is getting on my nerves here almost as much as Kyle is One second he acts like he knows how much of a liar Isabel is and won't trust her and in the next second he falls for her 'oohhh poor me will you pleas help me Michael..my big strong hero!?' Why does he keep sticking his head up his ass when it comes to Isabel and how evil she is?!

Sorry the boys in my story are annoying you so much! It’s usually the opposite with my fics; usually the girls are the ones that get on people’s nerves. If it helps, though, I don’t think he completely fell for her big-strong-hero begging in the last part. He was just weighing his options.

Poor Garret is going to be warped before he gets to second grade

Possibly. Poor kid.

Leila:

It's funny how determined Alex can be now that he can get rid of Isabel. It's like his thunder back.

He needed some motivation to stand up to her, and he’s got it.

As for the divorce battle that started: Why on Earth can't Michael and Co. not use the chance of their lives?

Maybe he will.

As for Max, I can't believe he confessed his crimes to Tiffany. It's a bold move. Yet it doesn't change anything. Confessing wouldn't make it better and it certainly doesn't make Max a better person or make his past vanish.

I think it was a weight that he had to get off his chest, especially if he seriously wanted to be her foster dad.


Thanks for the feedback! I really appreciate it!








Part 66








Michael threw himself into work the next day in an effort not to think about anything else; and it worked, for the most part, until the stress started seeping back in on the drive home. He knew he had to talk to Maria about the predicament he was in, but he was a little worried about how she was going to react to it.

When he got inside, he saw that his house had been transformed into a Christmas wonderland. There were lights strung in the kitchen, decorations stuck on the windows, and every figurine they had collected over the years set out and about, mostly on top the fireplace. Maria had Christmas music playing, and she was busy setting up the tree in the living room. They had an artificial tree since the real ones always seemed to die pretty fast in New Mexico.

“Looks good,” he remarked, tilting his head to get the best view possible of her butt as she bent over and reached into the decoration box for gold garland and the star for the top of the tree.

“Thanks,” she said. “I think I got the branches shaped right.”

“I wasn’t talking about the tree.”

She blushed. “Why am I the only one decorating?”

“Because, this is your holiday,” he replied, stepping over Miley and Macy, who were both asleep on the living room floor. “And I was at work.”

“How’d work go?” she asked, standing on her tiptoes as she tried to place the star on top of the tree.

“Fine,” he replied, and upon seeing her struggle, took the star from her and placed it atop the tree for her.

“Thanks,” she said. “So what’s your holiday?”

“Oh, Valentine’s Day,” he said. “I bring the romance.”

“That you do.”

He smiled at her, remembering the first time he’d kissed her. “I’m also a big fan of New Year’s.”

“Hmm, me, too.” She rose up on her toes again and kissed him quickly. “Will you help me with this?” she asked, handing him one end of the garland.

“Sure. Do we start at the top or the bottom?”

“The top.”

He circled the garland around the top of the tree, making new rings as he went down. “Will you help me with something, too?” he asked.

“You have to drape it,” she told him, showing him how she wanted the garland to look. “What do you need help with?”

“I’ve just kinda got a situation on my hands.”

“What kind of situation?” she asked, taking two glass bulb ornaments out of the box.

He just kept draping garland, not saying anything.

“The Isabel kind?” she guessed. She smiled tightly and crushed one of the ornaments with her bare hand. “What is it?”

“Well, she and Alex are getting a divorce . . .”

“About damn time.”

“. . . and they’re both relying on me to help them get custody of their son.”

She frowned questioningly. “What do you mean?”

He wrapped the garland around a few more times and stepped back to survey his work. “Alex seems to think that if I were to testify about Isabel forging the paternity tests, he’d get sole custody. Isabel thinks she will if I keep my mouth shut. I don’t know what to do.”

She handed him a string of gold and silver intertwined beads. “Michael, there’s no decision to be made. And I’m not saying this just because I’m anti-Isabel, but you have to side with Alex.”

He twirled the beads around in his hand, careful not to hit anything. “Do you really think he could raise a kid all by himself?”

“Could Isabel?” she countered.

“I don’t know. I feel like I’ve got way too much power over the situation when I hardly know anything about it.”

“You know what happened four years ago,” she pointed out. “Isabel got caught in a lie. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who you think would make the better parent.”

“It’s like choosing between a walking insanity plea and a human DUI,” he muttered.

“Just tell the truth,” she encouraged him. “What choice do you have? You can’t lie to a judge. That’s committing purgatory.”

He chuckled. “Perjury.”

“Whatever.”

He thought about it a moment and nodded. “You’re right. You’re exactly right. I’m making this way harder on myself than it needs to be. I should just tell the truth.”

“Yeah, you’re not a very good liar.”

“I hate Christmas,” he blurted, gently draping the beads across the branches.

“What?” she shrieked, whacking his arm. “I hate you!”

“I was lying. Just to prove that I can.”

“You’re such a dork,” she teased, rolling her eyes and smiling. She took the beads from him and immediately started correcting his decorating job.

“No, in all seriousness, though . . . thanks,” he said, reaching out to stroke her hair.

“No problem,” she said. “You’re always helping me out. It’s nice to be able to return the favor.”

He nodded and caught sight of a special something in one of their decoration boxes. “Oh, look what I found,” he said, pulling out the mistletoe. “Look what I found.”

“Mistletoe!” she chirped.

He held it up above both their heads with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist. “Will you be my ho-ho-ho this year?” he joked.

“Such a comedian.” She set the beads down and placed both hands on his chest, tilting her head back to kiss him beneath the mistletoe.

“Is that a yes?” he asked in between kisses. “Yes?”

She just giggled against his lips.

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

When Max got home that afternoon, Liz was just getting around to making the bed. She’d stayed home instead of going to work, because Tess was starting in on the designs for Brandon’s place. It was best if she had no connection to Brandon whatsoever anymore, put the whole thing behind her. Max didn’t seem too concerned about it. When she’d told him she was attracted to another guy, he hadn’t even seemed to care. Granted, she’d told him that on a very hectic, stressful night right before he went to rescue Tiffany, but now that the storm had died down, he still hadn’t said anything. That was a little disconcerting.

“Did you get Tiffany dropped off at the group home?” she asked when he came into the bedroom.

“Yeah, got her all settled in on her cot,” he grumbled, pulling back the covers on the bed.

“Max, I just finished making it,” she told him.

“Well, I might wanna lay in bed.” He shrugged.

She sighed heavily and headed out into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea while he unmade it. “Don’t worry,” she called back to him, “she won’t be there very long. They’ll find her a new foster home, hopefully better than the last two.”

After a moment, he joined her out in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. “She seemed at home here,” he mumbled.

She gave him a don’t-go-there look.

“I’m just saying . . .”

“I know what you’re saying, but we’ve already discussed this. We’re not gonna adopt her. We can’t.” Screw tea, she thought, reaching into the refrigerator. I need a drink. She took out a beer and did her best impression of Alex by downing a quarter of it at once.

“I’m not talking about adoption,” he said. “I’m talking about being her foster parents.”

“No.”

“You won’t even consider it,” he said accusingly. “It’s like you have this grudge against her.”

“No, there’s no grudge!” How could he even think that she could be that insensitive? “I would love to help this girl, but we’re in no position to do that. We’re still figuring ourselves out. It would be irresponsible of us to take on such huge roles with her. We’d probably end up doing more harm than good.”

He grunted and shook his head angrily. “You act like you know everything.”

“What? How can you say that to me?”

“I’m pissed off!” he roared.

“Why? Because I think for myself? Because I don’t automatically agree with you on everything?” She’d made the mistake of losing herself in Max many times before over the years, and she refused to do that again. “You knew this was how it would be when you married me.”

“No, when I married you, I was hoping I’d get a wife who would support me no matter what,” he yelled, “but apparently I was way too optimistic.”

“It’s not all about you, Max!” she shouted back. “God, if you would think about someone else for one second in your life--”

“All I’ve done lately is think about someone else!”

“Yeah, Tiffany! And I really respect the way you look after her, and I’m proud of the man you are when you’re with her; but there are other people in your life, too, and I’m not just talking about me.”

“Who--”

“Your nephew, Max,” she cut in sharply. “Our nephew. Do you even know what’s going on right now?”

He just stared at her in confusion.

“Isabel and Alex are getting a divorce and they’re gonna fight for custody over him.”

“What?” he spat. “When did this happen?”

“Like yesterday.”

He could barely squeak out any words. “I didn’t know . . .”

“Yeah, you didn’t know because you’ve been too wrapped up in your own thing.”

“Hey, my own thing’s been pretty important,” he pointed out defensively.

“I know, but so is this,” she argued. “I know Tiffany’s your friend, Max, but Garret’s your family.”

“And I’ll always be there for him,” he promised. “No matter who gets custody, he’s always got me in his corner.”

Liz couldn’t help feeling sorry for herself. She felt like no one was in her corner.

“I don’t care how you feel about the Tiffany thing,” he declared steadily. “I’m gonna be her foster dad.” And with that, he went back into the bedroom and slammed the door.

Liz stood in the kitchen, feeling as though he’d just taken all the air out of her lungs. This wasn’t the Max Evans she married. This was the Max that everyone else knew, the Max that everyone loathed. Her opinion didn’t matter to him at all. He’d made up his mind, and there was nothing she could do to change it. In his mind, he was superior to her.

Their marriage couldn’t survive all this.

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

Liz went to the group home the next day while Max was still asleep. She wanted to talk to Tiffany one-on-one, because she really didn’t know the girl all that well. Whenever Max was around, he dominated the conversation, but there were things the two of them needed to discuss on their own.

One of the workers told her that Tiffany was on the third bed down, but they weren’t really beds. Max hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that he got Tiffany situated on her cot. It really was a cot, and her cot was sandwiched in between the cots of two young boys who wouldn’t stop throwing paper wads at her.

“Hi, Tiffany,” she said, smiling as much as she could. The two boys hunkered down under their blankets and quit pestering her in the presence of an adult.

“Hey,” Tiffany returned. “Welcome to my home.”

Liz sat down carefully on the cot, afraid that the extra weight might break it. “How are you?” she asked, genuinely concerned. She wasn’t heartless. What Tiffany had gone through with her last foster brother was unspeakably horrible, and Liz definitely wanted her to be okay.

“Fine,” Tiffany replied simply. “How’s Max?”

“He’s . . .” She couldn’t even begin to think of an encompassing word to describe what Max had been like the night before, so she settled for the first one that came to mind. “He’s busy.”

“With what?” Tiffany asked, sitting up straighter.

Liz bit her bottom lip and didn’t say anything.

“With me?” Tiffany guessed. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s . . .” She didn’t mean to make the girl feel bad. None of this drama was her fault. “I know he mentioned something about maybe being your foster dad, and I was just wondering how you felt about that.”

Tiffany hesitated for a moment. “Well . . . how do you feel about it?”

Liz smiled and laughed a little. “You should be a psychologist, you know that?” She was definitely a smart enough kid and already had the reverse psychology thing going on. “Honestly, I’m a little uneasy about it,” Liz admitted. “And it’s not because of you. I think you’re really great. It’s just . . . it’s me. And Max. We’re so messed up right now. Our whole lives are messed up.”

Tiffany nodded slowly. “Max told me about his past,” she revealed. “It is pretty bad.”

“What exactly did he tell you?” There were so many skeletons in Max’s closet that it was hard to figure out which one she was hinting at.

“About what he did to girls,” Tiffany said calmly.

Liz stared at her in surprise. “He told you about that?”

Tiffany nodded again.

“Wow.” Max had tried so hard to keep those particular skeletons in the closet for a long time now, even though he hadn’t always succeeded. That was the kind of thing that could have easily jeopardized his entire relationship with Tiffany, yet she didn’t seem alarmed. “That doesn’t freak you out?” she asked. “Not even after . . . what you’ve been through?”

Tiffany shook her head. “No. He’s still Max. He’s still my friend.”

The level of understanding between them was astonishing. Liz actually felt envious. They hadn’t even known each other for very long but they had such a strong bond. “So does he feel like a father?”

Tiffany shrugged. “More like an older brother. I feel safe with him.”

“I think you’re about the only person who’s ever said that.” Hell, even she didn’t feel safe with Max all the time, and she was married to him.

“But I don’t wanna cause problems for the two of you, so . . .” Tiffany trailed off.

“No, don’t worry about that. You just . . . you do what’s best for you,” Liz told her, “and Max can do what’s best for him.”

“What about you?” Tiffany asked.

She shook her head and mumbled, “It doesn’t matter.” She really admired the fact that someone so young could be so selfless, always thinking about the needs of others, but she hadn’t been one of Max’s priorities for awhile now. She was getting used to it.

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

Tiffany remained motionless on her cot, watching Liz get up and leave. Liz wasn’t all that bad. She liked Max better, but Liz had always been nice to her, too. She seemed really sad.

She really wanted Max to be her foster dad. It might have been a little weird because he wasn’t old, and his trailer wasn’t exactly the nicest place to live, but he was her best friend in the whole world, and given time, she knew she and Liz could be friends, too.

But they didn’t have time. She had the feeling that Liz was putting her entire marriage on the line all so that she could have a real home for awhile. And Max was too focused on playing daddy to think about anything else. Tiffany cared about him too much to let him throw his life away for her. He had taken care of her when she’d been in trouble with Lukas; now it was time for her to take care of him, because he was in trouble with Liz.

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

Billy knew the smell of pot well, and he smelled it coming from Lorenzo’s bedroom. He went upstairs and threw open the door, demanding, “What the hell are you doin’?”

Lorenzo laughed. “What, I can’t get high in my own house now? It’s just pot, man.”

“Just hurry up,” Billy told him. “I don’t want it to smell when Garret gets here.”

“No worries, I’ll be headin’ to work,” Lorenzo assured him. “So, another day with the kid, huh? This another test run?”

Billy took the trash can and started collecting some of the trash off Lorenzo’s bedroom floor. “No, I passed the test. This is the real deal now.”

“Hmm.” Lorenzo smirked. “You’re really steppin’ up to play stepdad, huh? And she’s really gonna get a divorce?”

“Yeah, she and Alex are meeting with their lawyers today.” That was the whole reason why she needed someone to watch Garret.

“Wow. You really think you’re up to this, man?”

Billy shrugged and set the trashcan back down once it was full. “Sure. I can’t be any worse for the kid than his real dad is.”

“Or his mom,” Lorenzo pointed out. “Now you know I have the utmost respect for an insane woman, which is why I like Isabel so much. But man, wouldn’t it be funny if you ended up being the one good influence on the boy?” He laughed and smoked another joint.

The one good influence? Billy thought, frowning uncomfortably. That couldn’t be him. He didn’t do well under pressure.

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

If I’d married Michael, I never would have been here, Isabel thought, looking around the deliberation room of the courthouse. She and Alex sat across the table from each other with their respective attorneys, neither of them saying much. Their lawyers talked for them, which Isabel wasn’t exactly comfortable with.

“My client is willing to offer supervised visitation every other weekend if Mr. Whitman relinquishes custody,” her lawyer reiterated. She was a feisty, fashionable woman in her thirties who claimed to have passed the bar exam with the highest score in Santa Fe history. Isabel doubted that, though. Why would somebody so smart settle for divorce cases?

“How generous,” Alex’s lawyer grumbled sarcastically. He was a lot like Alex: tall, lanky, and hopelessly doomed to fail in any and all endeavors. “No dice. My client won’t be cutting any deals. Our custody case is far superior. Perhaps it’s Mrs. Whitman who should consider giving in.”

“It’s Evans-Whitman,” Isabel corrected, “and in your dreams.”

Her husband’s lawyer sighed heavily. “Then I’m afraid we have no choice but to settle this dispute in a court of law where, I assure you, the few remaining shreds of Mrs. Evans-Whitman’s dignity will be tarnished.” He leaned forward, staring her straight in the eye, and warned, “You could find yourself sued by the state of New Mexico for fraudulent paternity claims. Are you aware of that? Those documents you tampered with are government certified.”

Isabel rolled her eyes, unworried. Michael would come through for her. He always did.

“Don’t listen to him,” her lawyer whispered. “He’s only trying to intimidate you.”

She smirked. “Foolish male. I don’t get intimidated; I do the intimidating. Understand?”

Alex’s lawyer appeared disgusted with her and turned to face his client. “How’d you two ever get involved in the first place?” he inquired. “You seem like such a mismatch.”

Alex looked right at her, and for a moment, all the hostility vanished from his eyes. His jaw unclenched, and he looked almost affectionate when he said, “I loved her.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and averted her eyes. The plan had been to love him, too.

****

He was a good kisser. It was good that he was a good kisser, because she hadn’t expected him to be. When she’d talked to him at the bar, he’d seemed so nervous and unsure of himself. But he was a good kisser. Confident. Passionate.

“Wait,” he said, pulling away suddenly. “Wait, wait.”

She frowned. “What? You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“No.”

She smiled and traced her fingers down his chest. “You’re such a virgin.” His shirt was hanging open and he was on top of her, ready to go judging by the bulge in his pants. What could possibly be stopping him? She knew he didn’t have a girlfriend. But he had a hell of a lot of money and a beautiful home.

“I’m really not,” he insisted. “I just . . . I haven’t been with anyone for a few years now, and I always promised myself I’d be in love--”

She pressed her index finger to his lips to silence him. “Maybe you are,” she suggested. He had that same infatuated look in his eyes Michael had had upon first meeting her.

Michael . . .

“You really don’t have a boyfriend?” he asked, almost as though he didn’t believe her.

She blinked and tried to picture her boyfriend on top of her, smiling down at her, loving her. He really did love her, and she loved him. But what if love wasn’t enough? What if her dad was right and she needed someone richer?

Alex was richer.

“I really don’t,” she lied, forcing a smile.

He grinned and lowered his head, capturing her lips in a kiss again.

Please let this be the right decision, she thought desperately. If Michael’s love was priceless, she was going to hate herself for the rest of her life.

****

Isabel sniffed back tears, trying to keep her feelings inside. This was the last place where she wanted to get emotional.

“I’ll draw up the necessary paperwork,” her lawyer announced, “and we’ll see you in court.”

Hopefully this decision is the right one, Isabel thought, feeling uneasy. She and Alex were extremely toxic for each other; but at the same time, they’d been together for years now, so this divorce was the end of an era. A very long, depressing, unhappy era. The only thing that worried her was the possibility that the next era could be worse.

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

Billy felt antsy, but he was determined not to screw things up. He fully committed himself to the familiar role of music teacher with Garret and spent the majority of their time together teaching him more about the guitar that day. He was trying to teach him to play “On Top of Old Smokey,” which was pretty much the first song every guitarist learned.

“Good job,” he said, surprised how quickly the little boy was picking up the notes. A knock on his door distracted both him and Garret, and he said, “Go ahead and keep playing,” as he got up. He expected it to be Isabel but was shocked to find Alex on the other side of the door instead.

“Hey,” Alex greeted, sounding almost cordial.

“Hey.” Billy stepped outside and shut the door, fully prepared to get beat up or something. Alex wasn’t any bigger than him, but even thin guys could pack a good punch when they were pissed. “Where’s Isabel?”

“Shopping for courtroom clothes,” Alex replied.

“You here to pick up your kid?”

Again to his surprise, Alex shook his head. “No, looks like you have things under control here. For now, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, this is how it starts. You promise to be the attentive, responsible father, and for awhile, you do it. But things change.”

Don’t let him get to you, Billy thought, although it was hard not to let Alex’s words magnify all his fears. “Things won’t change for me,” he decided, wishing he could believe that.

“That’s what I used to think,” Alex said, sighing heavily. “Listen, Billy, I got no problem with you.”

“You don’t?”

“No, which is why I’m gonna be blunt with you.” Alex actually reached out and put a hand on his shoulder the way a friend would. “I was in the same position you’re in, back when Isabel was with Michael. The other man. It’s exhilarating for awhile. She’s all you can think about. You’re with this wild, crazy girl, and you think it’s always gonna be that way. You think the feelings won’t change. You think you can do anything and everything. You even think you can be a good dad.” Alex shook his head, looking genuinely pained. “But then reality sets in, and you have bills to pay and mouths to feed, not to mention a woman in your bed who can’t stop thinking about someone else. And she never will, you know.”

Somewhere deep inside, he knew that. But he couldn’t help thinking that her feelings for Michael might finally fade if things worked out between the two of them, if he was able to be good with Garret, if he never did drugs again and managed to be a better guy.

That sounded daunting.

“So don’t think for one second that you’ll ever be the love of her life, because you won’t,” Alex went on. “You’re gonna have to settle for second best. If you can handle that, go for it. If not . . . just know you’re gonna be miserable. You’ll spend more time feeding your addiction than you will actually being happy.”

But I can’t be happy without her, either, he thought. What the hell was he supposed to do? He felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Good luck,” Alex said, probably wishing him the worst of luck in his head.

“Your son . . .” Billy started.

“Isabel will be by to pick him up later,” Alex said, backing towards his car. “Just keep doing what you’re doing with him. Every day from here on out, he’s gotta be your focus.”

Billy stuffed his hands in his pockets, wishing he could pull out a joint and light it. His skin felt like it was crawling, but he tried to smile reassuring at Alex as he backed out of the driveway and drove on down the street. Once he was gone, he went back inside, feeling overwhelmed. Garret was still strumming away on the guitar.

“Billy,” he said, pronouncing his name like Bi-wee, “I messed up.”

Billy raked one hand through his hair as the urge to go get high became stronger and stronger. He liked Garret—he really did—and he liked teaching him to play the guitar. And he loved Isabel. But there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him he wasn’t cut out for this, and he knew drugs would silence it. For the time being, at least.

“It sounds great,” he told Garret. “Keep at it, alright? I’ll be back down in a minute.” And with that, he rushed upstairs for a little pick-me-up.

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

Max went back to the group home that afternoon to talk to Tiffany. She was sitting on her bed, writing something in her journal. When she saw him standing in the doorway, she got up, grabbed a tattered sweatshirt out her bag, and put it on before making her way towards him. He would have just gone inside, but too many kids made him nervous.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.” They went outside and strolled on down the sidewalk. “They don’t keep a very good eye on you around here, do they?”

“Not really,” she said with a shrug.

“Well, don’t worry, you won’t have to be there much longer. I’m gonna talk to some people and see what I can do.”

“About what?” she asked.

“About that idea I had. Remember?”

She tugged down on the sleeves of her sweatshirt and wrapped her arms around herself. “Wow, you’re not wasting any time. Don’t you have other stuff going on?”

“Yeah.”

“Like what?”

He sighed tiredly. “Isabel and Alex are getting a divorce.”

“Oh, no, that’s . . . is that bad or good?”

“I don’t know.” He wanted to hope that it would be a good thing, because he knew that Isabel and Alex’s dysfunctional marriage was probably already having negative effects on Garret. But then again, divorce had screwed up many a kid, too.

“What about you and Liz?”

He made a face. “What about us?”

“You guys aren’t getting a divorce, are you?”

“No. We’re not exactly getting along, but . . . oh, well.”

“Oh, well?” she echoed incredulously.

He stopped walking and stood in front of her. “Listen, my main concern is getting this foster stuff going. Are you okay with that?”

“Am I . . . what?”

“Do you want me to be your foster dad?” He already had his eye on a two-bedroom trailer so that she could have her own space.

She shivered, even though it wasn’t that cold outside. “Don’t you think it’d be kinda weird?”

“Well, isn’t it kinda weird that we’re friends?” he pointed out.

“I guess so.” She looked down at her feet and shifted from side to side. “I don’t know, Max.”

“What?” He’d been expecting her to be as excited about the idea as she was. He was offering her a real home, hopefully a permanent one someday.

“It’s just . . . Liz stopped by this morning, and we talked.”

Liz. He could only imagine what a conversation that had been. “What did she say to you?” he demanded. “Did she say something?” She’d probably brainwashed the girl into thinking being his foster daughter was a bad idea.

“No, she just asked me how I was feeling about things, and she told me to do what’s best for me.”

“And?”

“And . . .” Tiffany took a few steps back. “Maybe what’s best for me is . . .” She sighed. “To not be around you anymore.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Those had to be Liz’s words and not Tiffany’s. She would never say that.

“I’m sorry, I know that sounds really mean,” she apologized, “but . . . there’s another foster family that wants me, a really good one. This older couple—I think they’re in their early sixties—they’ve won awards and stuff. My social worker says they’re some of the best foster parents she’s ever known. I met them yesterday, and I really like them. And they like me. I think they’d even be willing to adopt me someday. They’ve adopted all their other foster kids.”

Max gulped. “So . . .” He couldn’t even talk. Everything Tiffany was saying hit him like a freight train, and he could barely stand upright any longer. “Just like that, you’re gonna go live with people you barely even know?”

“I’ve done it before,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, and it never seems to work out.”

“It will this time,” she said, sounding confident. “They’re good people.”

“And I’m not?” He remembered that he wasn’t and added, “Don’t answer that.”

“Max, you’ve been really good to me. I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done, especially saving me from Lukas. But I just don’t think you’re ready to be a dad. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t believe that flimsy lie for a second. “What’s the real reason?”

“You really wanna know?”

He nodded, though he suspected he already did.

“Okay.” She swallowed hard. “You really freaked me out when you told me about how you raped all those girls.”

When she said that, he could have sworn someone had just reached into his chest and tore his heart out. He had never hated himself more.

“I tried to act like I was okay with it, but I really wasn’t,” she went on. “I just didn’t wanna hurt your feelings. But the truth is, Max . . . you scare me.”

“I scare you?”

“Now.” Tears glimmered in her eyes, and she once again said, “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t . . .” She had no reason to apologize. She hadn’t done anything wrong. “I understand.” How could he ever ask anyone to trust him or believe in him or even care if he was alive when he hadn’t done anything to deserve any of it? “I should’ve never tried to be in your life.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged off in the direction they had come, back towards his car parked in the group home parking lot.

“Max!” she called after him. “There’s just one more thing.”

He turned around slowly, his stomach churning with the expectation of more bad news.

“That couple, the one who wants to foster me . . .” She bit her bottom lip hesitantly. “They live in Colorado. So if all goes well, I’m gonna end up moving there.”

His heart sunk even further down in his chest. “But Colorado . . . what’s in—there’s nothing in Colorado. It’s cold and there’s mountains and . . . why would you wanna move there?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked back. “This is my chance to start over, Max.”

He nodded slowly, knowing he was just being selfish. “I’ve always wanted one of those.” All that mattered was that Tiffany got the best life she possibly could, and if he couldn’t give that to her . . .

“So I guess this is goodbye,” she said.

He didn’t even want to think about what he would do when she was gone. She had made him more human within the past few months of knowing her than anyone else ever had.

She ran up to him and hugged him around the waist. “Goodbye, Max,” she choked out. “Thanks for everything.” She ran away from him before he could even hug her back, wiping tears off her cheeks. He just stood there, feeling hopeless. What was the point in trying to be a good person when it never worked out for him? It was so much easier to be bad.

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

All concept of time and place had vanished for Billy. He was faintly aware of Garret saying, “I’m hungry,” but he was so high he could barely even remember how to work his own microwave. Microwave. What was a microwave? He couldn’t think straight.

He got on the phone with his dealer and asked, “You got any more for me?”

“Any more what?”

“Everything.” He needed it all. In that moment, it was as though he couldn’t get high enough. He couldn’t stop, even though he knew he should.

“You sound like you’re on an acid trip right now, man,” his dealer said, laughing. “Yeah, I got some stuff. Come by and get it. I’ll be here ‘til 7:00.”

“Okay.” Billy shoved his phone back into his pocket and wiped the river of sweat off his forehead. “Why’s it so hot in here?” he wondered aloud, and instantly after that, he was freezing. He scratched his arms, suddenly paranoid that there were bugs underneath his skin making him feel hot one second and cold the next. “Get outta there,” he mumbled.

“I’m hungry,” Garret whined again.

“There’s some, uh . . . ice cream. In the kitchen.” He motioned towards the refrigerator but couldn’t seem to get the word across his tongue. “In the . . . you know what I’m tryin’ to say.”

“Are you okay?” Garret asked.

“Me? I’m fantastic.” He grinned, not sure why everybody didn’t just do drugs. They made you feel great. “Listen, I have to go somewhere to get something,” he told the kid.

“Can I go with you?”

“No, your mom wouldn’t like that.” He thought of Isabel and felt a surge of electricity go right up his cock. “I love your mom.” Damn, he was about to get hard. He was going to have to get himself off in the car on the drive over to his dealer’s house. “You just stay here, alright?” he told Garret. “I’ll be back before you know it.” He grabbed his coat and car keys and bolted out the door, checking his pocket to make sure he had enough cash on hand to get what he needed.

Isabel never had to know about this.








TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Sorry I'm getting this update out late this time. I've been busy watching vampire stuff with my roommate. First, there was Buffy (GOOD!), and then there was Twilight (BAD!) Sorry to any Twihards.

Leila:

I still can't believe that Alex went to Billy's and played the Devil's Advocate. He must have learned a lot by Isabel if Alex succeeded putting the seed of doubt in Billy. And it worked.

Yeah, he's definitely learned a few things from Isabel.

Though I'm shocked that Alex left Garret with Billy. Why?????

I think it was a calculated risk. He wanted Billy to crumble under the pressure of step-fatherhood, though I doubt he thought Billy would leave Garret alone or do anything that could potentially harm him that very same day.

I think, Isabel is realizing that she is again losing a man who really loved but her craziness messed all up again.

So true. Isabel spends a lot of time thinking about how much Michael once loved her, but she forgets that Alex loved her once upon a time, too. And he probably loved her just as much if not more so than Michael did.

Ellie:

I have to admit - a little disturbed by the Maria and Michael conversation. While I applaud her for saying to him that he has to tell the truth, I don't know ... it just feels like she didn't actually help him with the original dilemma he went to her with.

I'm going to sound like such a teacher when I tell you to say more, but . . . say more. What do you mean, exactly?

Kudos to Tiffany for speaking her mind about how she feels about Max's revelation - what a kick to his balls that was! And I'm glad she made the decision to try one more time with another family, rather than have Max foster her. SO FREAKING HAPPY ABOUT THAT!

In the long run, it will probably be good for her to be away from the walking train wreck that is Max, even though they are each other's best friend. But I don't think she was really speaking her mind there. I think she only said those things to get him to back down on the idea and help repair his fractured marriage. But maybe deep down, a part of her does feel that way.

Rodney:

Ohhhh boy...this does not make me feel good for Garret....I see a house fire or him finding some left over pills/drugs and taking them.

Oh, once again I've got my readers assuming the worst case scenario.

PS.....Okay I had to come back and say this.....as much as it hurts me to say it.....really hurts me ....Max was done a bit wrong here.I'm not saying I feel sorry for him or that he should get custody of Tiffany after all he's done in the past. This is hard for me to explain.....but....well just as he, for the first time in his life, tried to do something good for someone else it all blew up in his face.Plus the way Tiffany went about trying to 'help' M/L's marraige was kind of a low blow.I think she meant well and was hoping to 'save' their relationship but she crushed Max in the process.

I get what you're saying. It's really heartbreaking and demotivating for Max. He put all this effort into a being a better person, and Tiffany was the catalyst for that . . . and now she's leaving. Telling her he scares her was hurtful, maybe even a little bit truthful, but would anything other than something like that convince him to give up trying to foster her?

BB:

“Just tell the truth,” she encouraged him. “What choice do you have? You can’t lie to a judge. That’s committing purgatory.”

He chuckled. “Perjury.”

I love these little asides you throw in.

Yeah, every once in awhile, I get off a good one.

Max is a giant asshole. I kind of liked his asshole shtick before because there was an awesomeness about it in a warped way. Now though, even though he's taking care of a vulnerable young girl, he's coming across as even more douchey than before. Maybe it's just because the thought of him of all people being in charge of a young girl is so, so, so wrong.

I get what you're saying. Before, he just owned his jackassishness. Now, in the midst of trying to be a decent person, he falls back into his old ways at times and ends up coming off as even worse than before.

I felt sorry for Liz in that part, she did herself justice for once. But it did make me laugh when she told Max that he knew she would think for herself when he married her. How could Max have possibly known that when she hasn't shown a backbone in years?

As I've been writing this Liz, I've come to realize that there are two different versions of herself in her mind: She sees herself how she truly is, and then she sees herself as the person she wants to be. And those are two very different people.

I think Alex and Isabel should be locked in a cage and just fight to the death. Whoever wins gets the house and the kid. I actually believe that it is the fairest and least bloody way to solve the problem.

The sad thing is, you're probably right.

Novy:

Everything Alex said to Billy made me think Isabel cannot be in any relationship. She's never going to get over Michael. I wish she could have a psychotic break and finally get some mental treatment. I don't think there is any hope for her. He father just damaged her so brutally she can't function rationally. She shouldn't be around anyone else because she can't deal with herself.

In between her hatred for her father and her obsession/love for Michael, she really is a catastrophe on legs and should not be in a romantic relationship with anyone. For sure.

I'm surprised she never develop a multiple personality disorder. It kind blows my mind she is functioning in one mind because I don't know how she keeps it all together.

Maybe that's why she gets carried away with her schemes and screws up sometimes. There's just too much going on in her head.

Max and Tiffany, I can't help wondering if she just lied to him just now. Is she really scared of him or was she trying help save his marriage?

Maybe a little bit of both, but I'm inclined to go with the latter.

I hope all goes well with Tiffany and her new home. If she didn't lie about that as well just to push Max away.

No, she really does have a new foster home waiting for her with an elderly couple who have won awards for their foster parenting.

I wonder what's happening with Tess and Kyle.

Hmm, yes, they've been noticeably absent lately. They will have some HUGE storylines coming up soon.

Thank you so much for the feedback!








Part 67








Liz got a text message from Brandon that afternoon saying that he felt horrible about the kiss. She wanted to call him and say she felt horrible, too . . . but that was the problem. She didn’t feel horrible. She thought about that kiss, and she felt on fire. In a good way.

Any plans to call him back were squashed when she walked inside and saw Max waiting for her. He was sitting on the couch with his arms crossed over his chest, anger in his eyes. She quickly deleted her text message and looked at him expectantly. He seemed like he had something to say, and finally, he said it.

“I talked to Tiffany today.”

“Yeah? So did I.” She didn’t know what they were going to do. They were clearly not united on this foster care idea, and they needed to be. But she didn’t think she should have to be the one to compromise when he clearly wasn’t thinking rationally. Unfortunately, in order to save her marriage, their didn’t appear to be any other options.

“I hate you,” he growled suddenly.

She held one hand to her chest, stumbling backward at the force of his words. “What?”

“She said you didn’t say anything,” he said, slowly rising to his feet, “but you must’ve said something. Because everything was gonna be great, and now . . .”

“What’re you talking about?”

“She said I scare her. She doesn’t want me to be her foster dad anymore,” he wailed, his voice cloaked in emotion. “She’s moving to Colorado to live with these old people. How could you do this to me?”

“I didn’t do anything!” she yelled back. “I didn’t say anything. I was willing to step back and let you two do the platonic soul mate thing just so you’d be happy. She must’ve changed her mind all on her own, because I would never . . .” She grunted in disbelief, resisting the urge to pull her hair out. “God, I hate that you’ve been blaming me for everything lately. You make me feel like I’m this horrible person just because I don’t wanna do the foster thing. But I’m not a horrible person. Compared to you, I’m practically a saint!”

The anger in his eyes flickered and turned to shame.

“So if you wanna put our marriage on the line over this, put our marriage on the line!” she shouted. “But don’t you dare blame me if things don’t work out the way you want them to. If your past scares Tiffany, that’s not my fault; it’s yours.” When the floodgates of her eyes burst open and she started to cry, she ran towards the bedroom and slammed the door. The entire trailer shook.

He came to the door a minute later and knocked gently. “Liz . . . I don’t really hate you.”

“Leave me alone!” she screamed. No wonder her parents had boycotted her wedding. They’d known it was going to end up like this.

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

Isabel scored a few good bargains at the mall that day. She’d gotten four new business-casual outfits that would make her look very responsible and qualified to be a single parent when standing before a judge, and she’d spent under fifty dollars altogether. She could be so resourceful sometimes.

She had just stepped onto a downward-traveling escalator when she caught sight of Maria out of the corner of her eye. She was standing behind the glass display window of a men’s clothing store, trying to put some clothes back on a mannequin she must have knocked over. Isabel immediately turned around and jogged back up the escalator and headed into the store. “Maria,” she greeted, stepping up behind her arch nemesis.

Maria didn’t say anything as she tried to stick the mannequin’s head back onto its neck.

“The silent treatment, huh?” Isabel remarked. “That’s mature.”

“That’s funny, it’s like I hear a voice, but I don’t even care,” Maria said, hiding the mannequin head under a stack of business jackets.

“I’m sure by now you’ve heard about my divorce,” Isabel went on.

“Yeah, I think that’s great. For Alex.” Maria smirked.

“Hmm.” Isabel searched her arsenal for a comeback but came up strangely empty. “Well, I was thinking we should schedule another play date for Miley and Garret. He’ll soon be feeling the stress of the divorce, and it would be nice for him to have something fun to focus on. Besides, he has such a crush on her, and I’m sure the feelings are mutual.”

“What feelings?” Maria spat. “Let me reiterate, they’re three years old. They don’t have those kinds of feelings yet.”

“Sure they do.” Isabel caught sight of Michael coming out of one of the dressing rooms, and she smiled. “Sometimes a boy and a girl have a bond that’s unbreakable,” she said dazedly as he walked towards them. “It doesn’t matter how much turmoil it goes through. In the end, it’s still there, and it’s electric. Isn’t that right, Michael?”

“Right,” he said, stopping behind Maria and placing a kiss on top of her head as if to show her who he was bonded to.

Isabel rolled her eyes.

“This shirt doesn’t fit,” he said to Maria.

“Go shirtless,” Isabel suggested.

“Shut up,” Maria snapped. “Although that’s actually not a bad idea.”

“What’re you guys doing anyway?” Isabel inquired. “Department store sex? Because he and I used to do that sometimes.”

“We never did that,” he denied.

“I've done things with him you can’t even imagine,” she boasted, even though fucking in the dressing room had been a Billy thing. “And the funny part is, I did ‘em first.”

“We’re Christmas shopping,” Maria explained, ignoring her. “Tess needs to know what to get him, so we’re gonna find him a shirt in a size that works and tell her to buy it for him.” She made a face. “Why am I even talking to you?”

“I’ll try this one,” Michael said, grabbing another shirt off the rack before heading back to the dressing room again.

“What’re you giving him for Christmas, Maria?” Isabel asked solely for the sake of being nosy.

“Things you fantasize about giving him,” Maria retorted. “What’re you giving Billy? Herpes?”

“Well, look who’s witty today. Wonders never cease.”

“Quit stalling for a comeback. You know you got nothing.”

Isabel sighed frustratedly. She was off her game and she knew it. The whole divorce fiasco was messing with her. “Did Michael tell you about our arrangement?” she asked, hoping at least that might get under Maria’s skin.

“If you’re talking about the testimony thing, yeah, he did. And I hate to disappoint you—actually, I love to disappoint you—but there is no arrangement. He’s on Alex’s side.”

The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. “No, he’s not.”

“Yes, he is.”

“No, he’s--”

“I think I know him better than you, okay?” Maria cut in. “Trust me, he’s not your gateway to sole custody.”

Isabel glanced back at the dressing rooms. How could he? Didn’t he realize that he was destroying any chance she had of keeping her son if he did that? Didn’t he care at all? Just . . . at all?

She marched through the crowded store and met him at the dressing rooms just as he was coming out. “Is it true?” she demanded.

“What?”

“You’re siding with Alex.” She didn’t even have to phrase it as a question. She knew it was true.

“I’m not siding with anyone,” he said. “If it comes down to it, I’ll go before a judge and tell the damn truth. You should try it sometime. Then you might not be in these kind of situations.”

“Michael, please,” she begged, lowering her voice. How she would have loved to have been pinned up against the mirror of one of those dressing rooms saying the exact same words. “I had sex with Augustus for you. Please.” She needed him to save her.

He sighed heavily, then just shook his head and walked back towards Maria. “I think this shirt’s good,” he said.

“Yeah, it looks good,” she agreed, adjusting the collar for him. “I’m gonna call Tess and tell her to come get it. Is it a large?”

“Yeah. Wanna stop at the food court on the way out?”

“Greasy mall food? Hell, yes.”

Isabel listened to them enviously, the ease of conversation, the playful smiles and the instinctive touches. She was never going to have that with anyone ever again, not unless the world spun off its axis. And after all was said and done with the divorce proceedings, she wouldn’t even have her son. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew that, with Michael’s testimony in play, Alex’s case against her really was stronger than her case against him. Maybe he really was the worse parent, but there was more proof of her own deficiencies.

She stormed out of the store, feeling physically sick to her stomach, and rode down on the escalator again, already brainstorming ways to spin the divorce in her favor. The only way she could even begin to conceive of winning custody was to make it look like Alex was an abusive dad. Maybe she could convince Garret to lie and say he’d been hit. Maybe. But that would be corrupting him, and she really didn’t want to do that anymore than she already had.

Her phone rang, and she recognized her boyfriend’s number on the caller ID. “Billy?” she answered, not sure why he would be calling. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s not Billy, it’s me,” Lorenzo said. “I’m on his phone.”

That was even stranger. “What’s wrong?”

“I just got home from work, and--”

“Is Garret okay?”

“He’s fine. He’s right here,” Lorenzo answered. “Billy isn’t.”

“Billy isn’t okay?”

“Billy isn’t here.”

As if things couldn’t get any worse . . . She stepped off the escalator and ran through the food court, seething with hatred. Hatred for Billy.

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

“Garret!”

Her little boy jumped down off the couch and ran towards her. “Mommy!”

Isabel scooped him up in her arms, feeling so guilty about leaving him there in the first place. She had been too willing to believe that Billy had changed, that he could be the kind of person who could take care of Garret without anything bad happening.

“I popped in a movie for him,” Lorenzo said, strolling in from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Where’s Billy?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Biwee’s not here, Mommy,” Garret said.

“Where did he go?”

He shrugged exaggeratedly. “He said to stay here. I got scared. I heard a monster.”

Billy’s the monster, she thought, setting him back down on his feet. Anyone who thought that it was okay to abandon a toddler when he was under your care . . .

He was just like Alex. And part of her had always known that.

“Maybe he’s on his way back,” Lorenzo mumbled, setting the popcorn down on the arm of the couch.

“That doesn’t matter!” she shouted. “God, what was he thinking? You don’t leave a little boy all alone. You just don’t do that. How could he be so stupid?” She turned away from the two of them and raked one hand through her hair, feeling as though her brain were about to burst with all this bad news. First Michael telling her he wasn’t going to testify on her behalf, and now this. Everyone she was counting on was deserting her. It didn’t matter how capable and sufficient of a woman she was. She needed help once in awhile, too.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, already trying to think of what she could say to lure Alex back in and get him to forget about the divorce idea.

Just then, the door opened and Billy staggered in. His pupils were dilated, his shirt was hanging open, and he looked high as a kite. “Hey,” he said, grinning stupidly.

“Garret, go out to the car,” Isabel told her son.

“But--” he began to protest.

“Now.” He’d heard enough fighting for one lifetime. He didn’t need to hear any more.

Garret lowered his head and sulked outside. Isabel sent Lorenzo a look, and he went out after him to keep an eye on him.

“What-what’re you doin’ here?” Billy stuttered, tripping on his own feet as he tried to take off his shoes.

“Better question: What were you not doing here?” she shot back.

“I was . . . out.”

“Where?”

“Doesn’t matter. I came back.”

“How long was Garret alone?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. An hour.”

“An hour?” she echoed, horrified. Do you know what kind of trouble he could’ve gotten into in an hour? He could’ve gotten hurt and no one would’ve been here to help him. He could’ve run off. He could’ve gotten in a car with a stranger. He could’ve gotten lost. Shall I go on?” She glared at him accusingly. “You put my son’s life at risk today!”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” Was that really all he had to say? “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Billy!” she screamed. “You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met in my entire life. I can’t believe I let you convince me that this could ever work out between us. You’re not Michael. You’re not even close.”

“Screw Michael,” he grunted. “Who the hell cares about him?”

She slapped his face. “I care. I care about him more than I will ever care about you, because you obviously don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself.”

“I give a damn about you,” he countered. “I like Garret.”

“But not enough.”

“Babe, I . . .” He reached out to try to touch her, but she backed away, and a clear bag of marijuana slipped out of the outside pocket of his shirt, followed by a small vial of coke. He tried to put them away, but it was impossible for her not to notice.

“So that’s why you left today,” she realized. “I should’ve known.” Everything that came out of his mouth was a false promise. He wasn’t really going to take care of Garret, just like he wasn’t really going to quit doing drugs. “God, I’m not gonna divorce one addict just to be with another.”

“What’re you sayin’?”

“We’re done.” She pushed past him.

“No, Isabel . . .” He grabbed her arm, but she shook it away from him.

“Fuck the hell off,” she told him, blazing with anger. “You are not a part of my life anymore.” She could find somebody else to sleep with, somebody who didn’t expect a relationship in exchange for sex. Or maybe it was best to stick to self-gratification from now on. Relationships never seemed to work out.

“No, Isabel, wait!” he cried—literally cried—as she walked out of the house. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Don’t go, Isabel. I need you.”

She wasn’t even about to ask what he needed her for, because she had a feeling it was for something emotional. “Come on, Garret, we’re going home,” she said, opening the door to the backseat of her car.

“To Daddy?” he asked, climbing in.

She thought about it for a moment and then replied, “Yes,” before she shut the door.

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

Max got to his sister’s house at sunset. It wasn’t a nice house by any means, but part of him regretted not buying it for himself back when he’d had money. Then he could have been the one living there. Now, though, all he had was his trailer. That was all he had.

“Whatcha drinking?” he asked his brother-in-law.

Alex sat at his kitchen table and didn’t look up. “Water,” he replied, swirling the liquid around in his glass.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I gotta get my act together if I wanna keep my son.”

Max pulled out a chair and sat down beside him. “Well, I hope you do, for what it’s worth.”

“You think I’m a better parent than Isabel?”

“I think you’re more willing to change than Isabel.”

Alex nodded in agreement. “So what’s going on with you? You look unhappy.”

“I am.” He sighed, not sure if this was the right time to unload his own problems. He and Alex used to do this all the time, complain about their craptastic lives, except usually Alex had done most of the complaining. Max had had too much money to complain about anything.

“What’s going on?”

“I think I just destroyed my marriage,” he admitted.

“What?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s salvageable.”

“Well, I hope so,” Alex said, sounding sincere. “Liz was the first person to save you, man.”

“From what?” he asked.

“Yourself.”

He thought about it and realized he was right. Liz had always accepted his faults and the mistakes he’d made in the past as an unavoidable part of who he was as a man; but at the same time, she’d never allowed him to be that man again.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” he confided. “I know who I used to be.”

“You used to be a bad guy,” Alex pointed out.

“At least I was somebody.” Who was he now? He felt like there were bits and pieces of Max Evans floating around the universe, and he couldn’t put them together. “Tiffany’s leaving,” he revealed, “and I feel like a part of me is leaving with her.”

“Which part?” Alex asked.

“The good part.” It was going to be so tempting to back to being an arrogant son of a bitch without her around. Maybe he’d never been anyone else.

The front door opened, and Isabel and Garret came in, both looking sluggish and tired.

“Uncle Max!” Garret exclaimed, coming to life. He ran towards him and climbed up on his lap.

“Hey, buddy,” Max said, hugging him. With his nephew beside him, he felt one of those good parts coming back to him. He was a good uncle. He really was. Nothing could take that away from him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Isabel set her purse down on the table, accidentally knocking over Alex’s water, and neither one of them made a move to wipe it up. “Max, will you take Garret upstairs?” she asked him. “I need to talk to my husband in private.”

That didn’t sound good, so Max hastily removed his nephew from the situation. “Come on, Garret,” he said, holding his hand as they walked upstairs together.

“My mommy and daddy fight a lot,” he said sadly.

“You noticed that, huh?”

“Yeah. Do you fight with Aunt Liz?”

Garret wouldn’t know what to think if he had heard them fight merely an hour earlier. “Sometimes,” he admitted, pushing open the door to the bedroom. On the surface, it really did just look like the bedroom of a normal, healthy little boy. But Garret wasn’t normal, not with the family he had. And he wasn’t going to be healthy much longer.

“Don’t fight,” Garret said, sounding as though he were begging. He reached up and squeezed Max’s hand, and Max squeezed back.

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

Alex wiped up the spilt water, noticeably tense. “What do you wanna talk about?” he asked. “You wanna tell me how worthless I am?”

Isabel shook her head. “No.” Maybe he wasn’t so worthless after all. If staying with him helped her remain in her son’s life, then maybe he served a genuine purpose. “The divorce is off,” she said decidedly.

“Says who?”

“Me. It was a dumb idea. Let’s just forget about it and move on.”

“It was your idea,” he pointed out.

“Well, I take it back.” It wasn’t a happy thought, but she knew Alex’s custody case against her really was stronger than hers against him. There was more proof that she was an unfit parent, even though they were on a level playing field. And now she didn’t even have anything to look forward to with Billy. It was better to just work within the confines of her marriage for the time being rather than trying to radically change anything.

“You don’t get to do that,” Alex said, glaring at her angrily. “We’ve already started down this road; too late to turn back now. I’ve got my lawyer. I’ve got my case built against you.” He started to laugh. “Oh, and that’s what this is about, isn’t it? You’re afraid. You know I’ve got power over you right now. You know I’m gonna get sole custody.”

“No,” she denied.

“Yes. Just admit it.”

She rolled her eyes impatiently. “Alright, maybe that’s part of it. I just . . .” She quickly thought up another less selfish reason. “I feel like we’ve already put Garret through so much shit these past few years. We never really tried to make this work. From the moment we said ‘I do,’ you started drinking and I started fantasizing about Michael. We’re both to blame for the way our marriage has turned out, but what’s really sad is that it’s affecting Garret. So maybe if we just both put in an effort for once . . .”

“Then maybe what?” he spat. “We’ll be a happy family? I don’t think so. No, I’m taking my son and I’m getting the hell away from you.”

No, you’re not, Isabel thought. She wouldn’t let him. Garret was the only good thing she had anymore.

“I think he’d like growing up in Florida, don’t you?” Alex went on confidently. “I know you gotta stay here or move wherever Michael goes so you can stalk.”

That was true. She wasn’t ever leaving Santa Fe unless Michael did. “Are you even listening to me?” she said. “I’m willing to set aside my relationship with Michael just to give this another shot.”

“What relationship? You don’t have a relationship; you have an obsession,” he pointed out. “The only real relationship you have is with Billy.”

She flinched.

“How’s that going, by the way?”

She swallowed hard, wishing she’d never let it get so serious in the first place. “It’s over,” she told him.

“Like I’m gonna believe that.”

“I’m serious,” she insisted. “I’m never gonna see him again.”

“So he chickened out, huh?”

“Something like that.” Maybe it was best that their stupid relationship was done. But still, the thought of never feeling his hands on her again, never feeling the stubble of his beard brushing against her cheek . . . never feeling him inside her . . .

She had to force herself to not care.

“Your life really sucks right now, doesn’t it?” Alex remarked. “Oh, but mine . . . mine’s just starting to get better.” He took a few steps towards her and cupped the side of her face with his hand, using his thumb to brush away a solitary tear. She hadn’t even felt the tear cascade down.

“We are getting a divorce, Isabel,” he said, his tone ironically tender. “Nothing you say can change my mind.” He smiled at her and headed upstairs.

“Nothing I say?” she echoed contemplatively, staring into the darkness of her living room. Then maybe I shouldn’t say anything at all.








TBC . . .

-April

[April]

I haven't quite gotten used to Friday being my update day, so I almost forgot to update today. I'll have to make it quick because I've got a meeting in about an hour. So THANK YOU immensely:

Novy

Rodney

BB

Ellie

Trixie (hey, girly!)

Leila

Neve


You know your feedback means the world to me.

Music update today: "Talk Show Host" is probably my all-time favorite Radiohead song, and it really inspired me to crank out one specific scene in this update. It's just such a sexy, trippy song. You can listen to it here or click on when you see it if you'd like to listen. I recommend it. It's one of those songs that really sets a mood.

I also feel the need to caution before I post that there is a sex scene of a somewhat graphic nature in this part. And that's all I have to say about that.








Part 68









That evening, Michael and Maria dimmed all the lights in their house except for the gold lights of their Christmas tree. It gave their living room a very warm, serene atmosphere, and Maria remembered why she always hated it when it came time to take the tree down. She had to leave it up until New Year’s this year. It was just so pretty.

Michael lit a fire, and she told him to take his shirt off and lie down on his stomach on the floor. She brought out the massage oil, climbed on top of him, and got to work easing out all the tension in his back. Not that there was much tension, but she pretended there was so she could have an excuse to keep touching him. Not that she needed an excuse.

“I like your shoulders,” she said as the fire crackled beside them.

“My shoulders?” he echoed, his arms pillowing his face.

“Yeah.” She stroked her thumbs in large circles across his shoulder blades. “Did I ever tell you that’s my favorite body part on a man?”

“Oh, really? And here I thought your favorite body part was, uh . . .” He trailed off, grinning.

She blushed. “Well, besides that.”

He chuckled. “What is it about shoulders that does it for you?”

“Not just any shoulders. Male shoulders,” she emphasized. “Your shoulders, more precisely. They’re just so, like, broad and encompassing. Unlike mine. They make me feel small and safe.”

“You are small and safe,” he assured her.

She bent forward and pressed a kiss to his back, then made a face and sat back up. “Ugh, you kinda taste like massage oil, though.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s edible.”

She squirted more oil onto her hands, rubbed them together, and let them roam over his back some more. “Okay, here’s an idea,” she said, steering them back towards the topic they’d been discussing before she’d brought up the shoulder fetish. “If we wanna go the super cheesy route. ‘From This Moment’ by Shania Twain. It’s like the wedding song.”

“Yeah. How about ‘The Blower’s Daughter’ by Damien Rice?”

“Ew, ‘The Blower’s Daughter?’” she echoed. “That sounds kinky.”

“No, it’s like a glass-blower, not what you’re thinkin’ of. You know that song. You like that song.”

“How’s it go?”

“I’m not gonna sing it. It’s on the movie Closer.”

“Oh, the ‘can’t take my eyes off of you’ song? I do love that song,” she acknowledged. “Is it too sad for a wedding, though?”

“It’s not sad; it’s mellow.”

“But our wedding day shouldn’t be mellow. It should be celebratory, since it’s been such a long time coming.”

“There we go then. ‘Celebration’ by Kool and the Gang,” he joked.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” She bent forward so that her breasts were pressed against his back, wishing she was partially nude (or fully nude), too. “‘You’ve Got a Way’ by Shania Twain,” she whispered in his ear.

“You’re on a Shania kick, aren’t you?”

“I can’t help it. I hate country music, but she’s my one weakness.”

“She’s kinda pop-country.”

“Yeah.” She sat up straighter again and smoothed her hands downward to massage his lower back.

“‘Slow Dancing in a Burning Room’ by John Mayer,” he suggested.

She snorted. “Douche.”

“Did you just call me a douche?” he asked, feigning offense.

“No, I called John Mayer a douche. I can’t listen to his music anymore without thinking of his extreme douche-ability.”

“It’s a good song, though.”

“What’s it even about, though?”

He rolled over beneath her onto his back, a gleam of playful desire in his eyes. He held onto her hips and said, “It’s about . . . slow dancing,” as he pushed his hips up towards her. He motioned to the fireplace and added, “In a burning room.”

She laughed, pressing her oily hands to his chest. “We need to, like, analyze the lyrics or something,” she said, leaning forward.

“We’ll do that later.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, and they kissed. She could feel him getting hard with each passing second, and a shiver of pleasure traversed her spine.

“We should take this upstairs,” she suggested.

“We should,” he agreed, but he just kept kissing her. It was as though neither of them had the energy to do anything but be all over each other.

Unfortunately for the both of them, the front door swung open and Tess entered.

“Oh, god,” she yelped, looking away. “Sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Maria sat up, thankful that major clothing had yet been removed. “Tess.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” she apologized again.

“You didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Speak for yourself,” Michael muttered, lifting her off him. “I’m goin’ upstairs,” he announced, scurrying away, his boner barely visible through the loose sweatpants he was wearing.

“Gee, now I know how Miley feels,” Tess joked.

“He’d better not get started without me,” Maria mumbled.

“I’ll make it quick,” Tess promised.

“That’s what he said.”

Tess gave her a confused look.

“Yeah, I’ve gotten tired of all the lame ‘that’s what she said’ jokes, so I started the ‘he said’ kind. What’s up?”

Tess came and sat down beside her on the living room floor. “Well, I . . .” She sat in some of the massage oil and gave Maria horrified look. “What am I sitting in?”

“Nothing from inside the body,” Maria assured her. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay. Whew,” she sighed in relief. “Anyway, I was thinking of how I could get Kyle and me to reconnect, not unlike how you and Michael were just about to, you know, connect, and--”

“Oh, no, Tess,” Maria interrupted, “I thought we agreed it should happen naturally.”

“I know, but I was just thinking about the first time it ever happened for us; and granted, we were under the influence big time, but it was still natural. So I thought maybe I could recreate that night. You know, the Britney music, the singing, the dancing. The booze, just in case. A little trip down memory lane never hurt anyone, right?” She smiled hopefully. “I just can’t help feeling like, even though we weren’t dating back then and we’re married now . . . we were closer then. I wanna feel that close again.”

Maria felt sympathetic towards her friend. Here she and Michael were having the most sex of their lives, basically happily married even though they weren’t yet married, and Tess and Kyle were having all sorts of problems. “I think he’ll love it,” she said.

“Really? And it’s not trying too hard?”

“No. It’s oddly romantic. Just have fun with it, and don’t try to force anything.”

“I won’t,” Tess promised. “So do you think you can tell Michael to stall him at work for an extra half hour or so? I need time to set up when I get home.”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Tess gave her a quick hug and stood up. “Go get it on,” she chirped as she headed out the door. “I’m still living vicariously through you right now.”

“Not for long,” Maria reassured her. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure when Kyle and Tess would start having sex again, but Tess needed to believe it was soon or else her nerves would spin out of control.

Once her friend was gone, Maria shut off the Christmas tree and fireplace and scurried upstairs to her man. He was lying underneath the sheet and appeared to be naked, so she quickly stripped off the long t-shirt she was wearing as pajamas and pounced on top of him, picking up right where they had left off in the living room.

His hands roamed up and down her back, and he murmured against her lips, “I like your shoulders, too.”

They liked each other’s everything.

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

Liz wasn’t sure how she ended up at Brandon’s that night, but she did. She drove around all afternoon after her fight with Max and considered going to work before realizing she couldn’t concentrate on anything even if she tried. So she ended up at Brandon’s. It was almost as if the car had driven itself.

She got out and shut the door, walking towards his house. The wind blew her hair wildly in front of her face as her and Max’s own arguments with each other echoed off the walls of her mind.

“Liz, I’m your husband.”

“But not a very good one.”

Things had just been so bad for so long. There was only so much a person could take.

“When I married you, I was hoping I’d get a wife who would support me no matter what.”

“It’s not all about you, Max!”

She tried to turn around and head back home, but her feet kept moving on their own accord.

“I’m gonna be her foster dad.”

Brandon’s door got closer and closer . . .

“You must’ve said something.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Everything was gonna be great.”

She stepped up onto the porch . . .

“I’m not a horrible person.”

“I hate you.”

Before she could even knock on the door or ring the doorbell, it opened, and there stood Brandon. He was a really good guy, and he really wanted her.

They didn’t say anything to each other, but somehow silence said it all. She flung herself into his arms, and kissed him, and he dragged her inside and shut the door.

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

Liz felt disoriented when she woke up the next morning. The bed she was in felt too comfortable to be her bed, and the room smelled too nice to be a part of her trailer. When she opened her eyes, she saw Brandon’s bedroom, and she saw herself lying naked beneath the dark blue sheets on his bed. He lay beside her on his side, still sleeping and breathing evenly. There were scratch marks on his chest.

Oh my god, she thought, cringing. She rubbed her forehead and fought the urge to cry as the memories of last night flooded back to her. They hadn’t even hardly spoken to each other. They had just . . . fucked. She hadn’t even been able to look at him because she’d been so ashamed of herself.

She held her left hand up to her face and stared sadly at her wedding ring. It was a beautiful twenty-four karat thing, practically blinded her when she looked at it sometimes. But now it looked dull. She’d tainted it with her own reckless, selfish behavior, and she hated herself for that. She wasn’t going to be able to keep her infidelity from Max. It would eat away at her if she tried. And when he found out, he was going to hate her even more than she hated herself.

She took off the wedding ring and held it in both hands, wishing it were simpler to love the man who’d given it to her.

****

Liz stood in the living room of her new friend’s apartment as the party swirled around her. She felt as though she were on the outside of it, not really participating. Maria had told her it was just going to be a small group of people, but her and her roommate’s apartment was packed to the hilt.

A guy she didn’t know sauntered towards her with his tongue practically hanging out. He had spiky blonde hair that was tipped in neon green, and there were piercings in his eyebrow, nose, and lip. “Wanna drink?” he asked, sounding a little plastered himself. He held up a cup, and she shook her head.

“No, thank you.”

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah.” She didn’t need to be getting drunk and taken advantage of during her very first week of college. Or ever, for that matter.

She heard Maria scream, “Liz!” and a moment later, her new friend had pushed her way through the crowd towards her. She was no longer wearing pants and held not one but two beers in her hand. “You came!” she exclaimed over the music.

“Yeah.”

The pierced guy put one arm around her and pulled her to his side. “Babe, you look even hotter than last year.”

“You’re so gross,” she told him, but she didn’t push him away. “Are you having fun, Liz?”

She bit her bottom lip nervously. “Kind of.” Fun wasn’t exactly the word she would use for it, though. She felt awkward and uncomfortable. She didn’t know anyone there, and she’d never been to such wild parties back home. Maybe she should have asked Kyle to come with her. She hadn’t seen him since graduation.

“You should find a guy, Liz,” Maria suggested. “You should find a really good guy.”

Her pierced boyfriend—or was he her non-boyfriend? Maria had said she often went from one guy to the next—hoisted her up over his shoulder, and she exclaimed, “Whoa my god!” She was crowd-surfing before she knew it. “You guys, my shirt!” she yelped when someone started tugging at her clothes. She eventually just took it off and sat up on the sea of hands supporting her. “Woo!” she screamed, tossing it down the hallway.

Liz shook her head, laughing a little. Maria was an interesting person. Very nice and very fun to be around, but very out of control. She was probably a bad influence and would likely end up pregnant before she graduated college.

Liz squeezed over to the food table, which a group of jocks had just left in complete disarray, and picked up one of the few remaining cheese cubes. She tried to pretend to be all interested in eating while the couple beside her talked intently. They looked like a celebrity couple—they were that gorgeous both together and on their own. The girl was shaped like Barbie, had the most luxurious blonde hair Liz had ever seen, and had the kind of low, sultry voice that men found especially seductive. Liz felt self-conscious standing next to her.

“You’re saying you wanna go?” the boyfriend said. “We just got here, Is.”

“I know, but Michael . . .” She hooked her hands into his belt loops and pulled him closer to her.

“Is it Maria and Tess?” he asked. “You don’t like them?”

“Well, Tess is dating my brother, so that doesn’t exactly make me a big fan of hers. And Maria . . . she’s a man-eater. I’m sure she wants a taste of you. That’s why she invited you.”

She probably does, Liz thought. From what she could tell, Maria didn’t have a whole lot of standards, which was maybe a good thing, in its own way. At least she wasn’t too picky.

“We’re nothing alike,” the Michael guy said. “She’s just my friend. I’m sure she doesn’t . . . want a taste of me.”

“Well, she should,” his girlfriend replied, “because you’re the sexiest, smartest, sweetest guy here.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “You wanna go back to my place?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s go.” He took her hand and led her out through the crowd. Liz watched them go with the pangs of longing. Now why couldn’t she have a relationship like that? Those two seemed like they hadn’t lost the fire, even though they’d probably been together for awhile. That had always been Liz’s problem in high school, the fire. Or the lack thereof. She’d dated guys, even slept with two during her senior year. But she never felt anything. She was beginning to worry she was asexual.

She glanced around the living room and caught sight of a couple arguing heatedly in the kitchen. They were yelling so loudly that she could hear what they were saying over the noise of the other guests and the music. The girl was blonde and petite and obviously angry at her ruggedly handsome boyfriend for checking out other girls.

“No, Max, I don’t care that you find other girls attractive,” the girl was saying. “It’s that you rub it in my face all the time.”

“All I said was I like that chick’s implants.”

“My boobs are just as big and they’re natural.”

“Good, so just don’t let ‘em sag when you’re thirty and we won’t have a problem.”

“You’re such a jerk!” she yelled, storming down the hallway.

“You can suck me off later!” he called after her nastily, shaking his head as he walked in Liz’s direction. Liz quickly spun around, hoping he wasn’t going to come make a pass at her. Because his girlfriend was right. He was a jerk. She didn’t even know him and already she could tell that much.

Much to her dismay, he came up to her, right up behind her. “Hey,” he said, his breath warm against the back of her neck.

Oh, I am not asexual, she thought, surprised by her body’s reaction to him. It was as though every cell in her body became more alert somehow, more aware. Why? He was good-looking, sure, but obviously seriously lacking in the personality department.

“Hello? Earth to the hot girl?” he said, still trying to get her attention.

He thinks I’m hot? She felt herself blush and hoped he didn’t notice. She tried to walk away from him, but he sidestepped her, blocking her progress.

“I’m Max Evans,” he said.

She slowly lifted her head to look into his eyes. He had intensely mesmerizing eyes. There was something dangerous in them, something she’d never seen in the eyes of the boys she’d known growing up.

“I know,” she managed. “I’ve seen you in the paper.”

“So does that mean you fantasize about me when you’re having sex?”

“Hardly.”

“Do you have sex?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“No then. Interesting.” He licked his lips. “Virgin?”

“No.”

“Freshman virgin?”

“I’m not--”

“But you look like one.” His eyes roamed her up and down. “Goodness, I think I’m in love.”

“Goodbye, Max.” She tried to walk away again, but he stayed in front of her, blocking her. “Move out of my way,” she ordered, though he didn’t seem like the type of guy who followed commands well.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to say anything. The guy had already gotten under her skin enough for one night.

“Liz?” he guessed.

“How did you--”

He lifted her necklace off her collarbone. Her mother had given it to her as a birthday present two years ago. It had her name on it.

“Oh,” she said, feeling a little embarrassed. How come no guy had made her feel this way in high school?

“You wanna go someplace?” he asked, motioning towards the door with his head.

Yes, she thought immediately, shocked by her inability to look away from him. “No,” she replied, well aware of how unconvincing she sounded.

“Come on, Liz,” he urged, and she felt her defenses fall by the wayside. Something about the way he looked at her, the way her name rolled off his tongue . . . he made her feel the fire.

“Okay,” she said, even though her mind was screaming at her what a bad idea it was. Not only was he clearly a bad guy, but he was also someone else’s guy. He had a girlfriend.

“Okay,” he echoed, taking her hand. He led her through the crowd. It was as though everyone parted to allow him through. Her heart sped up in anticipation of where he was taking her and what they would do when they got there.

She wasn’t this kind of person, the kind that slept with someone else’s boyfriend. But in that moment, he was all she could see of the world, and she let herself change for him.

****

Holding back tears, Liz sat up in the bed as carefully as she could. She bent down and picked up her clothes off the floor, tugging on her jeans and t-shirt as quickly as she could. Her undergarments must have been buried somewhere in the bed, because she couldn’t find them.

Brandon stirred and reached out to touch her waist. “Hey, where you goin’?” he asked.

She shivered. “Home. And I’m not coming back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Brandon . . .” She looked down at him, hating that she was about to crush that hopefulness in his eyes. “Last night was a mistake.”

“Best mistake of my life.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she insisted. That was what she had thought after sleeping with Max for the first time, and nothing had ever been the same since. “I mean, yeah, it felt good, but trust me, it can never happen again.”

“Why not?” he pressed, propping himself up on his forearm. “Look, Liz, I’m not normally the type of guy who sleeps with married women. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never even had an affair.”

“I have,” she whispered, flashing back to all the nights in seclusion with Max, the thrill of almost getting caught so many times before they finally were discovered in the backseat of his car. Maybe part of her missed that rush, that unpredictability. That fire. “But that’s not what this is,” she insisted. “We’re not having an affair.”

He grunted. “Then what, it was a one-night stand?”

“Yes.” It sounded harsh, but it was true. Brandon was a great guy, probably had a lot of Michael and Kyle qualities in him, but he wasn’t right for her. She was his fire, but he wasn’t hers.

“No, Liz don’t say that. Please,” he begged. “I’ve never felt anything like this before. I love--”

“No, you don’t.” He loved the excitement, for now at least. But sooner or later that excitement would wear off. “Brandon, I like you, and I am attracted to you. But I’m not in love with you, and I never will be.”

“But you slept with me,” he protested.

“I know.” She wished she could take it all back, for his sake and for hers.

He swallowed hard and sat up beside her. “Let me guess: Max upset you, so you came to me to feel better. And now you only feel worse.”

She nodded wordlessly.

“This is gonna inspire some very depressing artwork, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized sincerely. “You’re a really good guy, and you’re really going somewhere in life. I don’t wanna hold you back; I don’t wanna bring you down. I don’t wanna be that person that brings out the worst in you, because I don’t want you to change. I don’t wanna be your Max.”

He sighed heavily, seemingly resigning himself to the curtain call on their relationship.

“Goodbye, Brandon,” she whispered, rising to her feet. She slipped on her sandals and scurried out of the room, crying as she left him there all alone. She hoped she hadn’t just ruined her entire life, but she knew it was possible. All it took was one look, one touch, one bad decision, and the fire spread out of control.

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

When Max went to the group home that morning, he fully expected to find Tiffany journal-writing in her bed, or maybe even drawing. But when he got there, there was someone else in her bed, a boy. He was crying and one of the workers was trying to console him.

He went out to the front entrance and approached a semi-attractive female employee who was wheeling a large cart full of pillowcases and bed linens towards the laundry room. He grabbed her arm and bluntly asked, “Where’s Tiffany?”

“Who?”

“Tiffany.” Didn’t they even bother to know her name? “I have this . . .” He held up the white teddy bear he’d picked up at the gas station on his way there. It had a large Hershey’s kiss in its hand and a fluffy Santa had on its head. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, embarrassed by holding it.

“Oh, right, Tiffany,” the employee said, smiling pleasantly. “She left this morning with her new foster parents. She looked so excited.”

“She left?” Max echoed, trying to remember what he’d last said to her. He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t even remember if he’d said goodbye.

“Yep, she left for . . . Kansas or something?”

“Colorado,” he corrected. It wasn’t that far away, but in that moment, it felt so far. It was almost as if she were dead. “How come it happened so fast?” he asked. “I mean, isn’t it a little soon? She just told me about it yesterday.”

“Well, in cases like Tiffany’s where there’s a history of abuse, they try to get the child resettled as soon as possible,” the young woman explained to him. “She needs that stability right now. But if you’d like, I can try to mail this to her at her new address.” She held her hand out for the teddy bear.

It wasn’t even a nice gift. It wasn’t worth mailing. “No,” he said, tossing it into the trash can. “It doesn’t matter.” He turned and sulked back out to his car, trying to be happy for his friend. She deserved that stable life with new, stable foster parents. He wished he could start over like that. His life hadn’t been stable for a long time. And now, without her, it never would be.

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

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t drop me.”

“I won’t.”

Maria started to run forward, then stopped and backtracked. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Michael assured her, holding out his arms.

“Okay.” She ran forward and leapt into his arms. He groaned and tried to lift her up just like Patrick Swayze had lifted Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing, but he couldn’t get her up past his shoulders.

“Okay, no, that’s not gonna work,” she said as he set her back down on her own two feet. “We’re gonna have to, like, Youtube that when we get home. I wanna be able to do it.”

“I’m not strong enough,” he said.

“You’ll get strong if we practice it enough.”

Kyle started to make exaggerated gagging sounds on the other side of the gallery before commenting, “You guys are so nauseating.”

“We are not,” Maria argued.

“Yeah, you are,” he insisted. “You’re so happy.” He climbed up a ladder and hung up a painting, one that Michael had done of Macy.

“Well, I guess we could be unhappy and sexless,” Maria supposed, “but hey, you’ve got that covered.”

Kyle gave her an annoyed look.

“Sorry, cheap shot,” she apologized.

“Hey, he made fun of me all the time during our sex drought,” Michael reminded her. “Let him have it.”

“Sexless Kyle,” she teased in a sing-song voice. “Just how rosy is your rosy palm?”

He quickly shoved his right hand in his pocket and stepped down off the ladder, standing back to survey the painting. “I think I should do something for Tess tonight,” he mused, “maybe cook her a nice dinner.”

“Good idea,” Michael said.

“No!” Maria yelped. “Bad idea!” She knew for a fact that Tess already had her own planned surprise.

Kyle gave her a confused look. “Why’s that a bad idea?”

“Because . . . you can’t cook,” she replied.

“Neither could you, once upon a time.”

“Well, I learned. Come on, Kyle, things between you and Tess are strained enough. Do you really wanna add undercooked pasta to the mix?”

“Uh . . .” He looked utterly perplexed. “No?”

“That’s right, so just stay here and get some work done.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, climbing back up onto the ladder to straighten the painting out.

Michael leaned over and quietly asked, “What was that about?”

“Duh,” she said, doing the hand motions to the ‘Oops, I Did It Again’ dance. He clearly didn’t get it, so she hissed, “Britney Spears! I told you about this last night.”

He shrugged helplessly. “I can’t be expected to remember anything we say to each other after sex. Things get hazy.”

“Well, hopefully things will get hazy for Tess and Kyle tonight,” she said. “They really need it.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he agreed. When Kyle looked over his shoulder at them, they just smiled and pretended they hadn’t been saying anything.

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

( )

Isabel crept downstairs quietly after putting Garret to bed for the night. Alex had been with his attorney all day, but he was back now, and she knew she had to act fast to get him to change his mind. She’d dressed for the occasion in a tight red camisole and jeans. Alex loved the way she looked in red.

He was in the living room, seated on the couch, a mess of paperwork strewn across the coffee table in front of him. Isabel stood behind him and stared closely at something that appeared to be a deposition from Michael. Great.

“What do you want, Isabel?” he grumbled, not even looking back at her.

She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up higher, maximizing the amount of cleavage she showed. “Are you sure you wanna go through with this?” she asked calmly.

“I’m sure.”

“Because we were gonna make it work once. Remember? And then I went and screwed it up.” As far as she was concerned, he and his father had screwed it up, too, because their company had gone under; but now wasn’t the time to get into that.

“Your constant Michael-craze.” He shoved his papers into a folder and stood up. “Did I ever tell you how annoying that is?”

She studied his eyes and saw the amount of effort he was exerting in order to not look at her breasts. Good. She had one foot in the door. “I will never say his name in front of you again,” she vowed. “I’ll get rid of every picture I have of him. I’ll never see him unless it’s for one of Garret’s play dates with Miley.” It hurt to even think about keeping any of those promises, but she was already thinking of ways to break the last one. “We can try again, Alex.”

He stared at her skeptically and shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Why not? I’m putting Michael behind me . . . figuratively.” She would have killed to have him behind her literally, his pelvis slamming against her ass. She got wet just imagining it. “And Billy and I are done, so I’m offering you everything. My body and my heart. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

“You don’t have a heart.”

“Sometimes that’s all I have,” she argued, reaching down to take one of his hands in hers. “Alex,” she said sweetly, stroking his palm with her middle finger. “Let me reiterate, I’m putting Michael behind me. That means . . .” She lifted his hand and set it down atop her breast. “I need somebody to put inside me.”

He stared at his own hand and then into her eyes with a dumbfounded look on his face. She smiled the same way she had when she’d first met him and leaned in, kissing him lightly yet forcefully. The man was putty in her hands. Always had been. He’d made several somewhat valiant attempts over the past few months of standing up to her, his decision to follow through with the divorce by far his best showing; but he just wasn’t strong enough to follow through with anything he set his mind to.

“No,” he said, pulling away slightly. “No, no, just don’t . . .”

She hooked her fingers into his belt loops and tilted her head to the side flirtatiously.

“Don’t try to do this,” he said, his voice wavering with uncertainty. “I know what you’re doing. I’m not stupid. Sex isn’t gonna change anything between us--”

She captured his lips in a searing kiss, the kind where he didn’t have the chance to back out. She arched her chest against him and ground her hips against his. Sex was such an easy thing.

All of his resistance gone, Alex wrapped his arms around her waist and snaked his hands up the back of her shirt. She moaned into his mouth, wondering if it was possible to make it to orgasm tonight. Alex had always been a surprisingly decent lover. If she could just forget that she hated him, then maybe . . .

She took one of his hands in hers and led it downward to cup her ass. He took the initiative of plunging that same hand down into the back of her jeans, massaging her bare bottom. His tongue swirled around with hers, and his penis hardened against her. She could feel it.

All at once, she felt her pants being dragged down. They scratched her skin as he slid them over her hips and shoved them down to the floor. “Turn around,” he told her, and when she didn’t do so fast enough, he grabbed her hips and spun her around, throwing her against the back of the couch. She bent over it, gripping the cushions, shocked by his dominance. She liked to have control, especially in the bedroom, but if she needed to be submissive tonight just so that Alex could feel better about himself and better about their marriage, she’d do it.

She listened as he slid his zipper down and released his cock from his jeans. He dug his fingers into her sides and pulled her bottom back so that it was pressed directly against his groin, then slid the tip of his penis against her slick folds. She expected him to penetrate her, but instead, he spit on his fingers and used them to lube up her asshole. She grimaced. Anal sex with only saliva as a lubricant? This was going to hurt.

He used one hand to guide his penis to her entrance and entered her slowly, groaning and grunting as he did so. She whimpered, trying to conceal the pain she felt by saying things like ‘yes’ and ‘please.’ Her body was stretching to accommodate him, and his movements within her felt like sandpaper on sandpaper at first. He got into a steady rhythm right away, rocking his hips back and forth. She moved in time with him, still holding onto the back of the couch, trying to relax and to force her muscles to unclench.

She thought of Michael, and it started to feel better.

“Alex,” she moaned, but in her head, she was moaning Michael’s name. In her head, he was the person becoming one with her. In her head, they weren’t just fucking, but making love. Because in her head, he loved her.

Alex slumped against her and groaned gutturally as he came. His breathing came in ragged pants, and she let him sweat all over her. She reached one hand behind herself to rest against his hip and keep him in place there. As long as he was inside her, he wasn’t thinking about getting a divorce, and he wasn’t taking her son away from her. As long as he was inside.








TBC . . .

-April

[April]

Leila:

In my opinion, Isabel didn't succeed with her sex plan.

We shall see.

Have Liz and Brandon used protection?

Yes. I see where you're going with this, though.

But even Britney Spears can't help them right now. They need a therapy.

I agree.

Ellie:

Ugh ... I'm ... just ... disgusted by Alex. Pop a boob or rub up against him and Isabel gets her way - yet again Pathetic! So typically male. But, I wonder - could he once again turn the tables on Isabel and say - "Thanks for the sweaty sex. Oh and our next court date is on ...

That would be awesome, but like you, I tend to doubt it would ever happen.

And I wonder now that the deed has been done and she's stated that it will never happen again, if it in fact will ... many times. And when it does if Max will be the one to open the car door to Liz and Brandon getting horizontal. Oh - talk about Karma!

It seems like, often when people say it's never going to happen again, it does. So we'll have to see if Liz sticks to her guns at all.

Hmmm ... wedding song for M&M - I think I'll have to really think that one over. Maybe that could be another poll of your April? *hint, hint*

That's a good idea!

BB:

You big tease. You mention a sex scene, then you open with the fireside massage but somehow we end up with Alex and Isabel sex!

I'm diabolical like that.

I am just loving Maria and Michael being all cute and happy and wonderful.

They're the light in a very dark fic at times.

I do feel sorry for Isabel. She's a despicable, selfish, manipulative person sure but she's also the product of a very fucked up upbringing and truly terrible childhood so it's hardly surprising. He relationship with sex and men is so warped. It's sad to see any woman reduced to using her body to try and keep her child. Maybe she brought a lot of it on herself but it's still not something that I would ever wish on anybody.

I agree. It's been very difficult to write some of the scenes in this fic, this last scene with her and Alex being one of them. I wouldn't wish this view and utilization of sex on my worst enemy.

Farrah:

I don't blame Liz for turning to Brandon. She really tried to stay connected with Max - to stand by him through good times and bad (and God knows there's been a lot of bad). But it takes two to make a marriage work, and she's been on her own for a long time now.

As much as I believe in fidelity, there comes a point where straying is a bit more understandable, and I think Liz just reached that point. Like you said, she stuck by him through all the bad times, and there were many of them, so it's not all that surprising that she did what she did. She rightfully feels horrible anyway about what she's done, but Max should probably accept some of the blame, too. I just don't know if he's a big enough person to do that.

Novy:

I'll have to check out The Blower's Daughter' by Damien Rice. I like him.

It's pretty much the song that got him out there into the music scene. I love it. Might even have to include it in this fic.

There Tess and Kyle are! I feel horrible for Tess. I doubt she'll be getting what she wants. I'm glad Kyle is still being smart and logical. I hope he maintains that.

Britney Spears has a power over him, though! I don't know if he'll be able to resist.

Now that Tiffany is gone, if Liz really does confess to Max what happened I wonder if this will swirl him back down to his destructive tendencies.

It's very possible. It'll all depend on how he reacts if/when he finds out.

Trixie:

A&I have reached a whole new level of disturbing. I'm not even sure what I want for them anymore (however, I'm sure I want Alex to stop drinking).

I know what I want for Garret, but for his parents . . . I don't know.

Liz sleeping with another guy? I don't think anybody imagined that from 521.

Her storyline was actually one of the first storylines I came up with when concocting this sequel. I figured out what I wanted to do with M+M first, and for some reason, Liz came next.

Claire: Sorry, I posted this update before I saw your feedback. There was a lot going on in that Isabel/Alex sex scene, but Isabel has traditionally been able to seduce Alex into letting her have her way. We'll see if it works again this time or not.


Thank you as always for the feedback!

It's a dual-music day. Two songs in one part. Two vastly different songs for two vastly different scenes. The first is "Unusual You" by Britney Spears. I mention her so much in this fic and mentioned her so much in 521 that I felt like I should finally include one of her songs. Love her or hate her, "Unusual You" is actually a very pretty song, probably one of the best she's done. You can listen to it here or click on when you see it if you'd like to listen.

The second is "Like a Man Possessed" by The Get Up Kids. A song I fell in love with thanks to One Tree Hill. Anyway, you can listen to it here (yes, I'm linking to my own video because I'm a shameless self-promoter), or click on when you see it to listen.


WARNING: I feel the need to preface that this part contains one of the most graphic scenes I have ever written. It's very disturbing and part of why this story is in the Alien Abyss. Read at your own risk, folks. That's pretty much the theme of the Alien Abyss.








Part 69








Liz stared at her reflection cryptically, wondering if Max would be able to tell that there was something different about her, that she’d been unfaithful. Maybe she’d somehow be able to keep it a secret. Originally, her plan had been to tell him everything, just to be honest and upfront and let him react. But she was so scared of doing that that she couldn’t resist the allure of not saying anything at all. Max had kept some secrets from her over the years, namely financial secrets; so would it really be so bad to keep one little—or not so little—secret from him?

She flinched when she heard him enter the trailer. Decision time. Whether she was going to tell him or not, now was the time to choose.

She walked out of the bathroom, shivering with nervousness. “Hey,” she greeted quietly.

“Hey.” He flopped down on the couch, looking tired.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. When he didn’t say anything, she feared the worst. Maybe Brandon had sought him out and told him everything. Maybe he felt even worse because she hadn’t been the one to tell him. “Did you find out?” she asked shakily.

“Find out about what?”

Oh, crap.

“You mean Tiffany leaving?”

Tiffany was already gone? Well, that settled it. She couldn’t pile on more bad news when he was dealing with that already. She was going to have to keep it a secret. “Yeah, that’s . . . that’s what I mean.”

He grunted angrily. “I stopped by to see her, and she was just gone. Now I’ll probably never see her again.”

“I’m sorry.” She sat down beside him, tentatively placing one hand on his shoulder. “I know you’ll miss her.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, his eyes downcast. “I’m done blaming you, though. She didn’t leave because of you; she left because of me. Because she’s scared of me.”

Liz shook her head. “No, she’s not.” She knew that for a fact. Tiffany had even told her that much when she’d gone to see her. “Look, Max, she left because of her, because she realized these new foster parents were gonna be really great for her. She just wanted to start over. I know it’s really hard, but just try to be happy for her, okay?” She’d meant to sound comforting and sympathetic, but it came off sounding more condescending.

“You know what I don’t understand?” he said, lifting his head to look at her.

“What?”

“You married the lying, cheating, self-centered rapist, and you had no problem with that; but when it comes to the wannabe foster dad, you don’t seem to like him very much.”

“That’s not true.”

“Whoever I am, it’s never enough.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you, Max; it’s that I don’t like me,” she informed him. “At least you have this good side of yourself. I don’t even know if that part of me exists anymore, or if it ever did.”

He swallowed hard, looking away. “I ruined your life.”

“No. You made my life complicated.” She supposed if things weren’t a least a little bit complicated, they wouldn’t be interesting.

“You made my life complicated, too, you know,” he pointed out. “You were the first person to ever make me feel anything.” He said it as though he wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. “You and Garret are all I have left now. I can’t lose you.”

The guilt of her own actions swarmed in around her. She loved Max, despite all his faults and all of hers. How could she betray him? “You won’t,” she promised, trying to smile reassuringly.

“I feel like I already have.”

“Max . . .” She felt him literally slip away as he rose to his feet and headed down the hallway towards the bedroom. No wonder he felt that way. Subconsciously, he probably knew she’d cheated.

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

Bills, bills. Kyle sorted through the mail as he walked in the door that evening, longing for the days of the hefty payments of Augustus Monet. “Tess?” he called, never taking his eyes off the envelopes in his hand. He wanted to ask her about her new customer, about how much she expected to get paid so that he could budget accordingly.

“In here.”

He glanced into the living room, and his jaw dropped open when he saw the romantic scene laid out before him. Tess had turned off all the lights and lit candles. There was wine set out next to the couch, and she was standing next to the fireplace wearing a long black robe and a welcoming smile. Her hair was in low-slung braids on either side, making her look so youthful and vibrant.

“Hey,” he said, halfway intrigued and halfway terrified. He hoped this wasn’t another overt seduction attempt, because if it was just her having fun and setting a mood, then it was the kind of thing he wanted to come home to. “What’s this all about?” he asked, setting the mail aside.

( )

She pressed a button on the remote control, and soft music came over their surround sound system. He recognized the song at once.

“This is my favorite Britney song,” she said.

“I know.” It was called ‘Unusual You,’ and she’d always said the lyrics reminded her of him, of how their relationship had begun.

“It should’ve been a single,” she said as he walked towards her. “I mean, why would they make ‘If U Seek Amy’ a single instead?”

“I don’t know.” She was rambling, and it was kind of adorable.

“That’s one of her stupidest songs. Although the subliminal message is kinda cool.” She took his hands in hers and pulled him closer to her, smiling flirtatiously. “If U Seek Amy.”

He was no fool. He knew the subliminal message of that song was ‘fuck me.’ “What’s going on?” he asked again.

“I just feel like we’ve been so distant ever since that night Miley fell in the pool,” she said. “I hate feeling distant from you. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Tess.” Maybe he didn’t tell her that enough.

“Then maybe it’s time to close distance.” She slowly untied her robe and pulled it open for him to see what she was wearing underneath.

His mouth dropped open and he got an almost instant boner as she let it slide down off her shoulders. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he swore. She was wearing a schoolgirl costume, midriff style, and looked exactly like Britney Spears had in the iconic ‘Baby One More Time’ video. The look was, simply put, every man’s fantasy.

“I like that reaction,” she said, giggling. “You remember our first time together?”

“Yeah.” He nodded dumbly. “Wait, no, not really.”

“Well, I only remember bits and fragments myself, but I know it was the most important night of my life,” she said, leaning into him. “And I know we sang and danced a lot. Like this.” She placed her hands on his waist and tried to get him to move from side to side in time with her. He wasn’t a natural mover like she was, though. She looked hot when she danced; he looked ridiculous and unnatural.

She spun around so that her back was to him and placed his arms around her waist, still swaying from side to side. His fingers shook as he slid them across her flat, bare stomach. What was wrong with him? He felt like that nervous virgin kid again, the one who wanted so badly to impress the girl he liked. And Tess was that girl. She always had been. It just felt like it’d been so long since they’d been intimate with each other that he wanted everything to be perfect, and that was nerve-wracking.

“I want you to know,” she said, reaching up to dangle both arms back over his shoulders, “I’m not trying to seduce you. I just want us to have a good time together. And if this good time happens to lead to good times in bed, so be it.”

“So be it,” he echoed, his hands roaming all over her body hungrily. At this point, regardless of how nervous he was, he did feel very connected to her. And he was a guy, so there was a certain part of his body really begging to connect.

“Want something to drink?” she asked, swirling her hips around in a circle. The maneuver brought her ass into contact with his erection.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” He was forever indebted to alcohol, though, because without it, Tess probably never would have decided to sleep with him.

She danced away from him a bit, behind the couch, and grinned as she slid her plaid skirt down. When she stepped back out from behind the couch, he saw that she was wearing the most miniscule pink thong ever, and he thought he was going to faint at the sight. His wife was so hot.

“Wait, there’s more,” she teased, tugging on the sleeves of her dark grey sweater/jacket. She tossed it onto the floor and then got to work untying her midriff almost painstakingly slowly. When she pulled it away from her breasts and dropped it down onto the floor, he literally stumbled backwards. She was wearing a bra that barely covered anything.

“Holy fuck,” he swore, feeling almost uncontrollably attracted to her in that moment.

She skipped towards him, her breasts practically bouncing right out of their confines.

“Oh my god.” He could barely even contain himself. He was going to shoot his load right there.

“Come on, Kyle, dance with me,” she said, shaking and shimmying in front of him.

“I look stupid,” he said, mimicking all her moves.

“No, you look like the boy I fell in love with,” she insisted, and that was all he really wanted. He hadn’t been that guy for a long time. But in all fairness, she hadn’t been the girl he’d fallen in love with, either. But she was tonight.

She hopped up on the couch and started jumping on the cushions, lip-synching the lyrics, using the remote control as a pretend microphone. She looked like she was having such a good time. Very few women could do something so childish and look so amazing doing it.

He jumped up on the couch with her, took his shirt off, and whipped it around his head like a lasso. She laughed at his antics and stumbled, falling onto the floor.

“You okay?” he asked, climbing down as well.

She just kept laughing and got back up on her feet. “Spin me!” she exclaimed, and he lifted her arm above her head to twirl her around in a circle. She twirled back towards him, and their mouths found each other naturally. How long had it been since they’d even kissed like this? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was that he’d missed it.

He took her hair out of the braids as he kissed her, threading his fingers through her wavy tresses. She took a step back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall aimlessly to the floor, and then she shook out her hair, letting it fall loose and free around her naked shoulders. She looked so good that he couldn’t not be all over her anymore. He hoisted her up into his arms and carried her upstairs into their bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and took a moment just to gaze at her. Her chest was heaving with every breath, and that look in her eyes was so enticing and focused, like all she could see was him.

He hooked his fingers into the sides of her thong and tugged it down. She lifted her hips to assist him, and when she was completely naked, his breath caught. Everything about her was stunning. Why did he even care about things like work and money and bills when he had her?

He got out of his pants and boxers quickly, hoping she wouldn’t mind if they just cut straight to the going at it. The dancing had been foreplay enough, and he didn’t have a whole lot of stamina in him at the moment.

He climbed on top of her and pulled the blankets up around them, urging her legs apart with his knees. He was just about to guide his cock into her when he remembered he was missing something. “Oh, shit,” he cursed, reaching over to pull open their nightstand drawer.

“No,” she whimpered, closing it. “Just . . .” She smiled at him encouragingly and rubbed her smooth legs against his sides.

He supposed there was no harm in going without a condom now that she was back on the pill, so he settled on top of her and glided inside. She gripped his shoulders tightly and immediately pressed her hips up into his. His brain shut off almost immediately once he was sheathed inside her, just like it always did, and he got into his thrusting rhythm. They were definitely closing the distance between them. All he wanted to do that night was show her how much he loved her, because despite all the disagreements they’d had over the past few months, he still loved her a lot.

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

What am I doing here? Billy wondered as he pulled his car up in front of Isabel’s house. She wasn’t going to forgive him for fucking up so badly. She wasn’t even going to be willing to see him. He knew that. But still, he’d spent all night wrestling around with the fantasy that if he just begged and groveled enough, she’d give him one more chance. And he’d do better this time.

He got out of the car and went up to the door, knocking impatiently. There was a whole spiel of things he wanted to say, but the longer he went without saying them, the more he began to forget them. Something about ‘I’m sorry’ mixed in with a little ‘never happen again.’

He pressed the doorbell when no one heard him knocking, but the doorbell didn’t ring out. Probably wasn’t working. He flapped his arms against his sides, frustrated, and turned the knob just to see if it was unlocked. And it was. He slipped inside.

“Isabel?” he said, looking around. He’d never actually been inside her house before, not once in over a year of knowing her. It was . . . a mess. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air.

Sex?

He strode into the living room, and what he saw felt like a knife to his heart. Isabel was lying on the couch with Alex in a spooning position. They were both naked and covered only by Alex’s shirt.

Billy stumbled backwards, almost knocking over a lamp on an end table. No, his mind screamed. No! How could he have fucked things up so badly that she would bone her husband? She hated him. Over and over again, he’d listened to her rant and complain about how much she hated him, about how she’d never let him touch her.

She stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. Billy bolted from the house and ran back out to his car, gasping for air. He felt hopeless, because Isabel was all he saw of the future, but now that he’d just seen her lying there with Alex, the future didn’t look very bright.

Could it even be called infidelity since they’d spent their entire relationship cheating on her husband? It didn’t matter. He felt betrayed. When she’d slept with Lorenzo and that Augustus guy and any other guy, it didn’t mean anything. It was either casual or done out of obligation. Even when she fantasized about Michael, he could get past it, because he knew it would never happen. But Alex . . . Alex was the nail in his coffin. If she was sleeping with him, then she wasn’t planning on divorcing him. Their entire sordid, twisted affair was really over.

“Dammit!” he swore, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. His car horn honked, and he quickly turned the key in the ignition and drove away. He felt like a weak, pitiful idiot as he headed on home, tears welling up in his eyes.

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

“Mmm,” Tess moaned, rubbing her hands up and down Kyle’s back, “we need to do this more often.”

He held himself up on his forearms, smiling down at her. “There’s no marriage problem Britney Spears can’t fix.”

She laughed and kissed him excitedly. “She’s so awesome.”

“You’re so awesome.” He kissed her forehead and then he nose. She was so cute and sexy all at the same time. He never wanted to leave that bed as long as she was in it.

“Promise me we won’t ever grow so far apart again,” she said, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull his body closer to hers.

“That was miserable.”

“Totally,” she agreed. “I don’t think we have to worry about it anymore, though. I feel so close to you right now. It feels like we really created something special tonight.”

“Yeah.” He wished he could be so articulate after two orgasms, but it was impossible. His brain was still fighting to function at the higher levels of thought again. “Alright, I’m gonna go take a pee break,” he announced, “and then we can take this to the floor.”

“The floor?” she echoed. “I get rug burns.”

“I’ll let you be on top.”

“Oh, you’ll let me?” She giggled and kissed his cheek. “Hurry up.”

“Okay.” He sprung out of bed and scurried into the bathroom, shutting the door. He stood in front of the toilet to relieve himself, feeling damn good all over. His entire body felt . . . satisfied. Beyond satisfied. Thrilled, really. He felt like his wife was actually his wife again, like together they could conquer anything that came their way.

“My toes are tingling!” she exclaimed from the other room.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned, knowing the tingle sensation was one of her favorite after-effects of having an especially pleasurable orgasm. “You’re stroking my ego, babe.”

“Want me to stroke something else?”

“Oh, you have a beautifully perverted mind.” He flushed the toilet when he was done and washed his hands. The towel holder fell off the wall as he was trying to dry his hands, though. He’d been meaning to fix that for a few days. It fell into the trashcan and tipped the trash over onto its side, making a loud clanging sound.

“Kyle? You okay?” Tess called.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He bent down to recollect the trash in the bin, and as he was doing so, he found a small pill on the floor. He picked it up between his thumb and index finger and eyed it suspiciously. “Just fine,” he mumbled, well aware of what that was. And the worst part was that there were about a dozen other pills scattered on the floor, too, some still nestled in the bottom of the trash can.

He didn’t want to believe what he already knew to be true, so he stood back up and opened the medicine cabinet. When he took out Tess’s birth control container and opened it up, his heart sank. The pills in the container were exactly the same as the one in his hand. Same size, same shape, same color.

Crap.

He shook his head disappointedly, staring at the little pill. The disappointment was soon replaced by anger, and he headed back out into the bedroom for a confrontation.

Tess was already arranging pillows and blankets on the floor. “About time,” she teased. “I can’t wait any longer.”

“I can.” He held up the pill for her to see. “You wanna explain this?” He hoped to God there was some kind of reasonable explanation and that he just wasn’t thinking of it.

“What is that?” she asked calmly.

“It’s one of your birth control pills. It was in the trash.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “It must’ve fallen in there.”

“Right, right. And what about the other dozen pills I saw? Did they fall in, too?”

She tensed up noticeably. “What’re you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. I’m not stupid, Tess.” He threw the pill at her feet.

“I never said you were.”

“Well, you must think I am, because you thought I wouldn’t find out about this.” He picked his boxers up off the floor and tugged them on, too angry to be having this conversation without a stitch of clothing on. “We just had unprotected sex. You’re trying to trick me into have a baby, aren’t you?”

“That’s not what I was doing,” she denied.

“Then what the hell were you doing?”

She walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer, taking out one of his t-shirts. “I was just tired of taking my pill,” she claimed, putting it on. “It makes me feel all bloated, and it messes with my hormones.”

“Quit lying,” he snapped.

“You could’ve worn a condom if you were so concerned.”

“I wasn’t concerned because I didn’t think you were lying to me!” he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You said—you said you were back on the pill. You said that a million times. How could you lie to me?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” she shouted back. “Things were so bad.”

“And now they’re worse.” He was starting to think they would never get better. “I can’t believe this. I can’t trust you. I can’t trust my own wife.”

“Kyle, I’m sorry,” she apologized.

“Sorry?” That was just a word. It didn’t mean anything. For all he knew, the apology was just another lie in a long string of lies. “What if you’re pregnant now?”

“The chances of that are so slim.”

“But because you lied to me, there is a chance.” He felt his stomach twisting into knots at the mere thought of bringing a child into the world under these circumstances. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Are you crazy?” he roared, feeling as though he were talking to a stranger. “Have you lost your mind? I don’t even know who you are anymore. The woman I married would never do this to me.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she insisted. “I just wanted to--”

“Seduce me?”

“Yes. I mean no.” She raked her hand through her hair frustratedly. “I don’t know. I just thought that if I got pregnant, you’d have to get used to it, and you’d start to look forward to it, and then we’d be close again.”

“Do you think we’re close right now?”

“No, because you’re mad; and I get that, but just please try to understand my side of this.”

He snorted furiously. “I don’t care about your side. You don’t have a side as far as I’m concerned.”

“You’re being over-dramatic.”

“No, I don’t think I am.” There wouldn’t have even been anything to be dramatic about if she hadn’t gone behind his back in an effort to get knocked up. “Tess, the moment I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful, amazing person on the planet. But now I look at you, and I feel sick.” The words themselves tasted bitter on his tongue, because he’d never imagined he would ever say them.

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t live up to this perfect, angelic vision you had of me,” she fought back. “I didn’t ask to be put up on this pedestal.”

“And I didn’t ask to be lied to! God-dammit, Tess!” She was acting like she was on drugs.

“Why don’t you wanna have a baby with me?” she demanded forcefully.

“Oh, I did, eventually,” he replied. “I wanted to have a baby with you. But now I want no such thing.”

( )

She flinched and looked away from him. He couldn’t tell if she was ashamed or mad or sad or something else entirely, but she had no response for him, no desperate plea or far-fetched argument. She took a pair of sweatpants out of the drawer and put them on, then scrambled out of the bedroom and went downstairs.

Kyle sighed heavily, falling backward on the bed. His entire body felt like a deflated balloon now instead of feeling thrilled or satisfied. And his heart didn’t feel much better. He’d just seen a whole new side of the woman he loved, and it wasn’t a side he could love at all.

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

Billy sat upstairs in his bedroom, wallowing in self-pity. He’d tried to go to sleep, but whenever he closed his eyes, all he saw was Isabel lying naked with her husband. Eventually, it got to the point where he didn’t even have to close his eyes. That was just all he saw.

The image ate away at him gradually, starting with his heart. Isabel was the only person who had ever occupied his heart, the only person who ever would. He wished that weren’t the case. He wished he didn’t love her, because she wasn’t easy to love. But she was it for him. There was no one else.

There would always be someone else for her. There would always be a whole long line of someone elses for her, and he’d been pushed out of it by his own stupidity. He should have never left that kid alone. Why had he been so stupid?

He reached into his nightstand drawer and took out two items. One was a plastic bag containing ecstasy tablets. He hadn’t done X for awhile, usually only did it when he was really upset about something. In his other hand he held a small box. He opened it up and peered down at the small diamond ring inside. It wasn’t expensive, but it would have looked beautiful on her left ring finger.

He cried despite his desire not to, got up, and walked over to his window. He pushed it open, pulled out the screen, and then tossed the ring out into the stratosphere. He didn’t need that anymore. Maybe he never had. He and Isabel never would have gotten married. They weren’t sane enough.

The drugs, on the other hand . . . those he needed.

He took one tablet out of the bag and set it down atop his tongue. Within seconds, he was dazed and his world was spinning.

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

Tess left the house and drove to her studio that night. She’d thought about going over to talk to Maria, but it was possible that Maria would be mad at her, too. Or disappointed. Or both.

She wasn’t a natural-born liar. She didn’t have those Isabel Evans qualities that made the lies come so naturally. It really should have come as no surprise that she’d gotten caught. Even Isabel got caught all the time. All the time.

She parked the car in the lot in front of her building and got out, walking like a zombie towards the door. In that moment, she felt nothing. She was a shell of her former self, and she understood why Kyle had gotten so mad.

Her life was in ruins.

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

Billy wasn’t sure how he’d managed to drive downtown. Everything was a blur. Getting in the car, starting it up, driving . . . he couldn’t separate one thing from another. He’d probably driven on autopilot.

He ended up parked next to a bar; he didn’t know which one. He glanced across the street and saw a blonde girl walking into a tall building, like one of those buildings where people rented out office space. She was familiar, but he was too high to put a name to the face.

She was hot, and when he saw her, he pictured Isabel.

He wanted Isabel. He wanted her on her back.

One more ecstasy tablet later, Billy was reaching into his glove compartment, pulling out a black ski mask he hadn’t even recalled he had. He shoved it in his pocket, got out of the car, and darted across the street.

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

Tess went straight from feeling nothing to feeling everything at once. Tears burned her eyes and her cheeks as she tore up pictures of baby clothes she had purchased off the Internet. They would be coming in the mail in a few days. She’d been planning on storing them in her bottom desk drawer so that Kyle wouldn’t find them. Now she was going to have to send them back or maybe give them to Maria. Maria always needed baby clothes because Maria always had a baby.

She picked up a framed photo of herself and Kyle on her wedding day, and sobs wracked her body. They had been so happy not all that long ago. Why had things changed? Was it more her fault than Kyle’s, or were they equally to blame? Were they past the point of no return, or could they find a way to fix things before it was too late?

She took out her phone to call him, because she knew she’d done something unthinkable and she needed to apologize sincerely. But she couldn’t do that over the phone. No matter how uncomfortable it was, she needed to go home and face the facts of what she had done. She was a person she didn’t like anymore.

Tess grabbed her purse and headed for the door. It would have been easy to hide out in her studio all night long, but she couldn’t take the easy way out. She’d been the one to make this mess, and now she had to find a way to sort it out. So she turned off the lights and opened the door.

She had only taken a step or two outside the studio when someone overwhelmed her, someone larger who was wearing a black ski mask. She shrieked, but he pushed her backward, almost knocking her over. He grabbed her wrists, and she screamed as she tried to hit him, push him, do anything to get away from him; but his hold on her was too strong. When he kicked the door shut, she knew exactly what was going to happen, and she felt powerless to stop it.

She tried to yell for help, but he shoved her down onto her desk and clamped one hand down over her mouth. Her head and back hit the desk hard, sending pain throughout her entire body. She tried to squirm away, but he was on top of her, pinning her down. She tried to yell for help or bite his hand or do something to cause him pain, too, but his hand was so tight on her mouth that she couldn’t even move it.

She cried as her masked attacker pulled down her sweatpants with his free hand. She kept squirming while he pulled his own pants down, hoping and praying the adrenaline would be enough to somehow get away from him, but nothing worked; and when he penetrated her against her will, her eyes snapped open, and all the fight disappeared from her body.

Helplessly, she lay beneath him while he thrust into her. His movements were rough and jarring. Every inch of her hurt and felt dirty. She kept expecting to have some kind of out-of-body experience, to go somewhere else while it was happening and return only when it was done. But she didn’t. She stayed right there while he was on top of her, feeling the horrible sensation of part of him sliding in and out of a part of her. He was invading her; he was violating her. And she was conscious of every second of it.

She wondered while it was happening if he was going to kill her after he was done, and at one point when she thought it was never going to end, she wished he would.

And all of a sudden, it did end. He raped her without a word, then climbed off her, pulled his pants back up, and muttered, “Thanks,” before running out the door.

She laid there on her desk, her pants pushed down to her ankles. Her entire body shook and convulsed, and she kept waiting to wake up. Because there was no way this could have really happened. It had to have been some horrible nightmare, a nightmare that felt way too real.

When she realized she wasn’t going to wake up from anything, that it had really happened, a feeling of fear consumed her. She was more afraid now than she had been when it had actually been happening. What if he came back and did it again? She wouldn’t survive that.

She forced herself to her feet, pulled her pants up, and ran towards the door, slamming it shut. She locked it into place, then collapsed on the floor and screamed.







TBC . . .

-April