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The Families in Rossford

CONCLUSION OF CHAPTER THREE: PRESENTS


“Well, look at the Christmas boys,” Erin Latham announced that morning as she sat at the kichen table in the large old farmhouse while Shelley poured coffee and Sean came in followed by Matty rounded the table to kiss his wife on the back of the neck.
“Good morning, Sis,” Sean said. He stretched and yawned. “Can I help with anything?”
“Yes you can,” Shelley said, turning around. She hooked her arm through her uncle’s arm and led him out of the kitchen.
“What am I helping with?” Sean said, innocently, as Shelley put a cup of coffee into his hand.
“You’re helping me with gossip,” she told him, sitting down in the foyer on the first step that led upstairs.
“What is going on between you and Bryant?”
“I don’t know that I want to talk about that yet.”
“Well, that’s fine,” Shelley said. “But more importantly, what’s going on with that smile on your face? You were in such a good mood when you came home last night.”
Sean sipped from his coffee and turned his head.
“Do you want me to call you Uncle Sean?”
“You better not.”
“Old, old, Uncle Sean!”
Sean looked at her.
Shelley shrugged.
“What if I told you I met the man I’ve been trying to meet for fifteen years?”
“I would say you need to get a better event planner.”
“You’re a funny girl, Shelley Latham.”
“Shelley Anderson, and don’t you forget it.
“But seriously,” she amended.
“I think I just met a man I want to get to know better and better,” Sean explained. “I used to take it for granted I would easily meet this wonderful man and,” he shook his head, “this hasn’t turned out to be the case. But do I dare to hope this one could be different? I do.”
“Does he have a name?”
“He is tall and solid and he has this dark reddish hair, curly, beautiful. He is just the sweetest looking man.”
“But does he have a name?” Shelley said, flatly.
“Oh,” Sean seemed to be coming back to earth.
“Yes. He does. His name is Kenny.”


Waking up on Christmas morning, he smelled no coffee, no breakfast, none of what Brendan usually did. And there was no alarm clock set, no memory of Midnight Mass. He wasn’t sorry for Ruthven, not really. He couldn’t understand those people who regretted sex. He’d had good sex, and mediocre sex, but he’d never had regrettable sex. Only it had happened in place of Midnight Mass and old traditions, and now the house felt cold and bare, lonely in the winter light.
“Where is he?” Kenny wondered. Part of him wondered if, in fact, Bren could have come home, could have come here and figured out what was going on. Ruthven’s car had been in front of the house. He panicked, his heart beat quickly and his breath was a little short before he remembered: We’re not together.
But Brendan was the man he kept house with, the one with whom he had shared a life, in a somewhat haphazard way, for eighteen years. He thought he should at least get up and go find him, maybe call around a few places before getting in the car and driving all over town.
“Or,” Kenny realized, since Brendan really, really, wasn’t his boyfriend anymore. “I could actually go see my family.”

“Maris!” her mother called, “Lindsay’s here.”
“Alright, Mom!”
Maris got up off the couch, and pulling her sweatshirt on, went down the hall to meet her friend who was coming toward her with a little pink bag.
“Merry Christmas,” Lindsay said.
Maris pulled her by the hand, down the hall and up the stairs into the bathroom.
“Lock the door,” she said.
Lindsay obeyed and Maris opened the bag. pulling out the pregnancy test and muttering, “My God. What a Christmas present.”
“How long will it take?” Lindsay said, turning around while Maris opened the box, pulled out the stick and then began to unbutton her pants.
“Only a few minutes and then I know… what I know.”

The house began filling up after eleven. Everyone knew they shouldn’t show up until then, but once the clock moved from 10:59, everyone was there. Adele and Simon along with Anne, and then Layla with Will, and in a few minutes Dena, Milo, Cara and Rob. By the time Sheridan arrived with Brendan, Fenn, stepping out of the kitchen to let his mother and his sister work, said: “Maybe it’s time to move Christmas to someone else’s house.”
“I think,” Layla told her uncle, “you would hate that.”
“I might get over it in time.”
“I might grow a third breast,” Layla reflected.
By then Tom and Lee were arriving with Dylan, and Maia showed up before Natalie and Tara. Fenn reflected that Tom’s house was bigger than his, and Nell had that great big house the Meradans had always lived in. Yet they were here. Brendan had a family he’d spent the morning with, and yet he was here.
“Which reminds me…”
“Reminds you of what?” Todd said, next to him.
“Brendan,” he said to the young man sitting beside Layla, “Where’s Kenneth?”
“What’s that?”
But when Fenn opened his mouth to repeat it, Brendan said, “I don’t know. I mean, I wasn’t really home last night.”
Sheridan said, suddenly, “He’s probably with his family. I’m sure he’ll be around later.”
Fenn nodded and said in a low voice to Todd, “There’s more to this story.”
“Are you going to ask?”
“I’m too old to be the busybody I used to be.”
“I thought you’d say that.”
“We can’t interfere the way we used to,” Fenn told him. “We have shit of our own.”
Todd nodded.
“And we just don’t have the energy.”

Lindsay stood against the door with her arms wrapped around her, trembling as if she was the one who might be in trouble.
“Well?” she said to Maris.
Maris Clark’s face was hard.
She said, “Fuck.”
“We could try again.”
“And I would be pregnant again,” Maris said, putting the stick back in the bag. “Just like I was on the last two.”
“Did you know… I was watching The Doctors, and they said that a dollar store pregnancy test was as good as the expensive ones.”
Maris turned and looked at her.
“I was just trying to make conversation,” Lindsay said.
Then suddenly she said, “Oh, my God. This is bad. This is really, really, really bad.”
“Please shut up.”
“I’m sorry,” Lindsay clapped her hands together. “What should I do? What are we going to do?”
Maris lifted the toilet lid and sat down, crossing her legs.
“Whatever it is, I need to think, quickly.”
“Are we going to keep it?”
“We?” Maris said.
“I don’t want you to feel you’re on your own.”
Maris knew Lindsay was a good friend, and she knew she needed to respect that. She took a breath and thought before speaking.
“Well, I am going to keep my baby. I just can’t…” Maris shook her head. “That’s the only option. I can’t be one of those bitches who… Nope. There’s a place in hell for those bitches.”
Lindsay waited for Maris to stop talking to herself and then she said, “So?”
“So,” Maris said, “I need to find a dad for this baby.”
“Isn’t Hunter the father?”
“Hunter is the idiot who fucked me,” Maris said. “But…. He’s no type of father.”
Lindsay didn’t want to anger her friend. She didn’t want to keep asking questions Maris didn’t have the answers to. But this one was important, so she said, “What are you going to do?”
Maris glanced at the bag with the peed on sticks.
“Whatever I have to.”

“What’s up with Bren?” Will nosed up to his brother. “You seem to know.”
“Yeah, I do know,” Sheridan said. “And I’m the one who’s gonna keep on knowing.”
“Well,” Will said.
“I’m not trying to be an ass,” Sheridan told his brother, “but when he wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”
“Bren is my best friend. He’s been my best friend for years.”
“Well, then maybe you should just go up and ask him,” Sheridan told him before adding, “Idiot.”

Will looked around the house, and when he couldn’t find Brendan, he tapped Dena on the shoulder.
“Oh, he’s heading out—” she began, but before she could continue, Will headed out the door.
“Bren!”
“Yeah, Will?”
“Where are you off to?”
“Home. It’s just downstairs now.”
“You moved out.”
“I moved out.”
“Why? I mean,” Will began again, “what I meant to say is…”
Brendan stood there, looking patiently at his friend. He reshifted the parcels of food Fenn had packed for him.
“Brendan Miller, you’ve always been there for me. And I will always be there for you.”
Brendan gave Will a half smile and said, “Thanks, Will. I know you will be.”
He gave Will a quick hug and said, “Merry Christmas, Will Klasko.”
And then Brendan turned around and walked in front of the house and around it to the apartment door where he was instantly startled by:
“Sheridan.”
“Are you going to just keep me standing out here in the cold, or are you going to open the door?”
“I… uh,” Brendan put down the bags, reached into his pocket, took out the key and pushed it into the lock.
“The place probably isn’t even clean. It’s probably musty as all get out.”
“We’ll clean it then,” Sheridan said.
“But—”
“I’m sure,” Sheridan said, taking Brendan’s jacket and his parcels of food from him, and flipping the light on as he walked down the steps into the basement apartment, “that you want to be all alone right now.”
“Yes.That’s exactly what I was thinking about—”
“And,” Sheridan continued, “I’m sure I don’t care.”
Brendan followed Sheridan down into the apartment, and Sheridan said, “I think that Will told you he will always be here for you, and that’s wonderful of him. It goes for me too. I’m going to be here for you. Right here. Right now.”
Brendan opened his mouth and then closed it, saying, “Alright, then.”
“So… do you want coffee… or tea.”
“I guess… coffee.”
“Good,” Sheridan said. “Truth is, I never liked tea anyway. It’s an old woman’s drink.”
Sheridan went into the kitchenette and soon Brendan heard water running.
Sheridan looked around the apartment that had been Fenn’s present to him after college, the place he had brought Kenny to live with him. It still felt like home, and off in the kitchen there was a companion bustling about, preparing the smells that would make an old abandoned apartment home.
Sheridan stuck his head out of the kitchenette, and before he could say it, Brendan said, “Merry Christmas, Sher.”
Sheridan winked at him, and then pulled his head back into the kitchen.

The snow was falling softly outside, and the house seemed larger than ever. Really, he was just worried now. Leonard Cohen droned from the stereo:

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a tap at the door and Kenny half ran through the house to let Brendan back in.
“Hey.”
It wasn’t Brendan, or even Sean Babcock. That would have been a stretch no matter how welcome. It wasn’t any of his friends. He half resented Milo for not having some sort of telepathic sense and coming to him.
It was Ruthven Meradan.
He stood in those faded jeans that were soft to the touch and fit his thighs, and he was wearing an old American Eagle Outfitters hoodie.
“Can I come in?” he said.
“Oh… yeah. I forgot myself. Come in.”
Ruthven pulled down his hood to reveal the cap of golden hair, and he smiled pleasantly, touching the little beard at his chin.
“I had one hell of a rough Christmas,” he was saying. “I need to take my ass back to California.”
“Yeah—” Kenny began, but he stopped because Ruthven’s hands hand went to his crotch and was cupping him.
“But,” Ruthven said, coming forward and kissing him, “I was thinking maybe we could continue where we left of. Until then?”
“Uh…” Kenny said as Ruthven massaged all the worry and upset of the day out of him and stroked in desire… “Yeah,” his voice was shallow. “I think that would be a good idea.”

WRAP YOUR HEAD AROUND THAT AND TOMORROW NIGHT: THE BLOOD
 
Wow an unexpected pregnancy for Maris? Lots going on in this portion! I am glad Brendan has his friends around to support him. I wonder if Sean and Kenny will become more involved? I guess I will have to wait and see. Great writing and I look forward to The Blood tomorrow and more of this in a few days!
 
Our young friend Maris is definitely pregnant. How that will effect everyone else? Wait and see. Brendan is surrounded by friends and Sheridan's definitely got his back, and of course, even though he hasn't shown up yet for Kenny, Sean is still in town and there's a lot waiting for him. A lot's going to be coming up. What are you looking most forward to?
 
WE'RE BACK TO ROSSFORD TONIGHT, CHRISTMAS DAY AND THE FALLOUT FROM CHRISTMAS EVE...


FOUR



THE PRESENT YOU
NEVER OPENED




There was a tap on his door, and Dylan yawned, shaking his head.
“What’s that?”
“That’s the door, dummy,” Lance muttered, rolling over.
“Ohhh—” But a yawn interrupted him.
“Dylan,” he heard the whisper on the other side of the door. “Dylan.”
Dylan climbed out of bed, his hair sticking up, and pulled on his pajama bottoms and then a tee shirt that was probably his but could have been Lance’s. Unlocking the door, locking the door had become a necessity at a certain age, he came out into the hall.
Laurel kissed him on one cheek and Maia kissed him on the other.
“We’re heading out now,” she said.
“And we love you,” Laurel added. “And we’ll see you next year.”
“I didn’t know you guys were going this early. I can get dressed and—”
“And what?” Maia said. “Go back to bed.”
“Yeah, Todd’s dropping us off at the station. Train comes at 8:45.”
“Well,” Dylan thought, and then he hugged them both. “I guess I’ll see you soon.”
He hugged them again, and Maia pushed him back into the room saying, “Tell Lance hey for us.”
“Or don’t,” Laurel shrugged.
Then they went down the hall, down the stairs, and were gone.
“Who was that?” Lance said when Dylan shut the door behind him and clicked shut the lock.
“Laurel and Maia.”
“Thank God you started locking the door.”
“All they would have seen,” Dylan said, taking his pajamas off and sliding into bed again, “is you holding me while we sleep. Not that shocking.”
As they resumed that very pose and Lance pressed himself to Dylan, he said, “You have a point. It’s even a little bit sweet.
“Do you think we were loud last night.”
“If we were loud last night there would have been a knock on the door,” Dylan said. “Dad’s cool, but he’s not that cool.”
Lance chuckled. “You know, I can respect that. I’d think there was something weird if there were no… I don’t know… Rules.”
“You could never stay with me at Dad and Lee’s.”
“I know. I don’t think Tom would like that. And… Now that my Dad and Mom know… Well, you know. This is the only place we can be together.”
Lance was whispering into Dylan’s shoulder.
“So my father is strict within… bounds, is what you’re saying?”
“I guess. I don’t exactly know what I’m saying.”
Lance stopped.
“What?” Dylan turned around.
“I think I have to pee. And then I have to go back to sleep.”
Lance climbed out of the bed and Dylan turned around to watch him. His hand went to Lance’s shoulder, and down his back.
Lance pulled on his boxers and said, “Is it okay if I just head out like this or should I put more on.”
“You’re just going down the hall, and you’ve come down into the kitchen half naked before so…” Dylan shrugged.
“Alright.”
“Why’d you even ask?”
“We’re not up against anyone’s room are we?”
“Todd’s studio. The living room is under us. So… not really.”
“Good. It’s just… we got really carried away.”
“Well, you couldn’t be with me Christmas Eve night,” Dylan said, surprised at how embarrassed he got sitting here in front of Lance discussing their sex life. “We were excited. I wish you’d stayed with me that night.”
“Well, I’m here now,” Lance said taking his hands through his brown hair so it stood up. “All vacation. Except… right now. Because…”
“You have to pee,” Dylan reminded him.
“Yes,” Lance said going to the door. “Yes, I do.”


“What time does the train come?”
“About fifteen minutes from now,” Maia said to her father. She was in the back of the old Cherokee, and she leaned forward to say, “If certain cousins were able to wake up at an appropriate time we wouldn’t have to hot foot it to the train station in Miller.”
“If certain cousins would—” Laurel began, and then said, “You know what? I can’t even make a return to that. I’m just going to say shut the hell up.”
“Did you get to say go’bye to Dylan?” Todd said, ignoring Laurel.
“Yes. He came all half awake and I could hear Lance half snoring in the background.”
“They’re sort of like an old married couple,” Laurel commented. “It’s kind of sweet.”
“I think it is too,” Todd told her.
From the back, Maia said, “Would you think it was sweet if I was laid up in bed with some man?”
“Sometimes I think you just say things to drive me crazy,” Todd shook his head.
“Maybe,” Maia allowed. “But nothing I say is invalid.”
“Well,” Todd said, “why don’t you find a man, and then we can discuss your hypothetical laying up with him.”
“You say it like I won’t find one on this trip?”
“Is that your intention for going on this trip with your cousin?”
“You know it is,” Laurel told Todd. “That’s exactly what she said.”
Todd smiled and shook his head, “Bennett will be crushed.”
“I really wish everyone would stop saying that.”
“Here we are guys,” Todd said. “Right up the street. And no train yet.”
“Great, we’re early.”
“Or late,” Maia said.
Todd turned around and said, “Who are you, and what have you done to my lovely daughter?”
As they pulled into the parking lot where several people were milling about on the platform, Maia leaned forward, kissed her father on his temple and said, “I’m the same lovely thing I always was. It’s just now that I’m taller my voice is closer to your ears so you can finally hear me.”

As the train pulled up, Todd said, “Out girls.”
Their bags were already on the ground beside the Cherokee. They’d done winter time train hopping before. Todd and the girls climbed out, and he ushered them on the train saying, “And Melanie’s nephew’s going to meet you, right?”
“That’s what she said,” Maia told him.
“And if there’s any trouble—”
“We will call,” Maia said. “Now relax, Dad.”
Todd looked so forlorn and so very much like he was thinking of getting on the train that Laurel said, “Kiss your father.”
And when Maia had, Laurel kissed him to.
Bags before them, they wobbled and weebled onto the train, and Laurel picked the first window seat she could. She was amazed there was a seat. This train came all the way from South Bend and half the time it was filled when it got to Miller. The train gave a great exhausted heave, and then it pulled off and was moving toward Gary.
“And now…” Laurel told her cousin, as she attempted snuggle into her uncomfortable seat and tried her best to sleep. “The adventure is about to begin.”

“Do you want one egg or two?” Fenn said as Lance and Dylan came downstairs into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing their eyes.
“Just one,” Lance told him.
“Really? As big as you are, you only want one egg?”
“Well, what else were you making?” Dylan asked.
“If you would look at the table you would see pancakes.”
“Oh, my bad,” Dylan smacked himself in the head.
“Okay, I’ll have two,” Lance said quickly, turning red.
“And I know you’ll have two,” Fenn said to his son.
“If it’s not trouble,” Dylan said, but the skillet was already sizzling and two eggs were already in it.
“Sit down,” Fenn told him. “And Dylan, get my coffee and my cigarettes.”
Dylan obeyed and then asked Lance, “You want milk?”
“Yup. I mean yes,” he said glancing back at Fenn who was lifting an egg and turning it over.
Dylan took out the gallon jug, sparing a glance for his father before chugging some and then taking glasses out of the sink and pouring himself one and Lance another.
The microwave went off.
“Lance, take the bacon out,” Fenn said. He exhaled smoke in the opposite direction as he lifted the first two eggs from the skillet and put them onto plates.
Lance brought the bacon out and Fenn said, “And if you would, slip the spinach in and heat it for a minute and a half.”
Spinach was the vegetable Fenn served with breakfast, and Lance understood why Popeye liked it so much. It was one of the only vegetables he could stand. The microwave went off at the same time the last of the eggs came off and the back door opened, Todd coming in.
“That’s called synchronicity,” Fenn announced, turning off the stove and switching on the fan as he crossed the kitchen to open the window.
He took off his housecoat and marched out of the kitchen.
“I need to sit,” he reported.
“I need a pancake.” Todd speared one and then, without syrup, he tolled it around a strip of bacon and walked out of the kitchen with it, following Fenn.

“Your dad’s always so nice,” Lance said, “And I always get so nervous around him.”
“I don’t know why,” Dylan said, mouth ful.
“Well… I don’t know why either. I just never thought he liked me.”
“You’re wrong there, and I can tell you that for certain,” Dylan gulped down a huge swallow of milk and then covered his mouth when he belched.
“Dad wouldn’t cook a huge breakfast and give you two eggs if he didn’t like you. He loves you. He hated Ruthven.”
“Really?” Lance was embarrassed at his obvious pleasure.
“He was so upset when I was with Ruthven and so happy when he was gone, and he would never let him stay here.” Dylan snapped the bacon strip in half and said, “He definitely never made him eggs.”
He watched Lance and said, “What’s that goofy look on your face?”
“Your dad likes me,” Lance said. “I’m the good one.”
Dylan shook his head.
“If I knew you were going to be a douche about it…”
Lance opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out full of food.
Dylan rolled his eyes.
“You are so foul.”
“Foul,” Lance agreed, swallowing milk, “but likeable.”





“Maia asked me how I would feel if a boy stayed in her bed the way Lance stays with Dylan.”
“And did you tell her how I raise my children is none of her business?” Fenn said.
They were sitting in the library, looking out on the sideyard and Todd said, “I didn’t put it boldly as that.”
“Well, put it that boldly next time. She’s half of Tara and surprisingly enough, a lot of Houghton is springing up in her too. Girls like that need things put boldly.”
“I couldn’t help thinking she had a point,” Todd said. “I could just hear here saying that we treat Dylan differently because he’s a boy. I don’t think she understands Dylan has two parents, and I’m not one of them.”
“Firstly, Tom has no idea Lance is here. I don’t treat him differently because he’s a boy. Its because he’s Dylan, and Lance is Lance.”
“You weren’t so lenient with him when Ruthven was around.”
“Do you blame me?”
Todd thought about this and put the rest of the pancake wrap in his mouth.
“I always felt bad for him. He’s my nephew.”
“I couldn’t stop Dylan from seeing him, but what I could stop I did.”
“I always thought you thought Lance was stupid.”
“I did,” Fenn admitted. “I don’t now. But I always knew Lance was a good boy who would look after my overly wild son. That’s what matters.”

“I always thought your Dad thought I was stupid,” Lance stopped, pancake halfway up to his mouth.
Dylan remembered several occasions when Fenn has said, plainly, “That boy is stupid!”
But somewhere along the line, more specifically, when Ruthven was gone, Fenn had stopped talking about Lance’s intellect and only said, “That boy… That boy loved you.”




KENNETH LOOKED INTO the Hasty Tasty and saw Milo Affren sitting at a booth in front of the window, reflectively watching the cars shoot up and down Dorr Road while he smoked his cigarette.
“You’re early,” he said, sitting down.
“No, my red headed friend,” Milo countered, exhaling. “You are late.”
Kenny shrugged. He said, “Is that my water?”
“And your coffee. The waitress will be back in a minute.
“What was your Christmas like?” Milo asked. “It’s the first time in—well, shit, first time I can remember I didn’t see you on Christmas.”
“It can’t be the first time, but, yeah. I went to my family’s house.”
Kenny sipped the water, and then took one of the little cups of creamer and poured it into his coffee. He frowned and decided on pouring a second creamer, and then sipped.
“Not bad.”
“The Hasty Tasty’s never bad.”
The waitress came and said, “Are you gentlemen ready to order, or do you need more time?”
“I’m good to go, but my friend might need some more time to think,” Milo said, positioning his cigarette away from her.
“No,” Kenny said, thumping the menu cheerfully. “I would like the Farmer’s Breakfast.”
“And I would like the biscuits and gravy with a side of hash browns,” Milo said, “Cause, quite frankly, I don’t believe a farmer would eat what Kenny’s having.”
He handed the waitress the menus and said, “And if it’s not too much trouble, more coffee?”
“Certainly,” she said.
As she walked away Milo shook his head wistfully and said, “A big tip. For that ass.”
“Milo!”
“Oh, shut up. Who doesn’t look? Dena told me the first thing she loved about me was my ass.”
“It is nice,” Kenny said. “Speaking as a homosexual.”
Poker faced, Milo said, “Right back at you. Speaking as a heterosexual. But where the hell is Bren?”
“You haven’t seen him?”
“And you haven’t either!” Milo realized.
“Uh… no.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Milo murmured, leaning in. “What’s going on? Tell me, now.”
“Well, you know we’re not really together anymore. But… I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since Christmas Eve. Bren, I mean.”
“Yeah, I assumed.”
There was that silence, and Milo remembered a long time ago, when Kenny had confessed that he had been having an affair with Brendan, that he and Brendan were gay. This was so long ago that Milo had hated Brendan a little because he was Dena’s first boyfriend.
“Here’s the thing,” Kenny began. “I took some guy home on Christmas Eve.”
“Is that why you weren’t at Midnight Mass?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn.”
“Milo, don’t.”
“Alright,” Milo said. The waitress had come with coffee and was refilling their cups.
“Thank you,” they both said, and she said, “Your meal will be ready in a few minutes.”
“I wanted to sleep with somebody. In fact, I had somebody in mind.”
“That dark haired guy? Bryant Babcock’s brother.”
“That’s the one.”
“You slept with him?”
“No,” Kenny said. “No, not him. I would actually like to meet him. Or something. I didn’t think that was a good idea to start things out like that.”
“So you did the bait and switch.”
“The what?”
“You found someone else to fuck,” Milo said.
“Uh, yeah,” Kenny said, blinking. “You’re a crude old bastard, Miles Affren.”
Milo shrugged.
“Where’d you find him?”
“The guy?”
“Yes,” Milo said.
“He was at the party.”
“Really,” Milo said, contemplative. “Someone we know?”
“Not really. I mean…” Kenny looked like he was deciding something again, and then he said, “You have to not judge.”
“Do I ever?”
“No. But that’s not the point.”
“Alright.” Milo waited for the answer.
“It was Ruthven.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“You said you wouldn’t judge.”
“He’s like family. Well, he’s Dena’s family. Sort of Meredith’s too. He’s… He’s Dylan’s ex.”
“Thank you for the pedigree. I know all this.”
“He’s totally… I mean, he’s totally not your type. He’s completely unsuited for you. He’s—”
“Gentlemen, here’s your breakfast.”
Milo moved his coffee aside, and as the waitress put down his plate he smiled and thanked her.
“Do you need anything else?”
“No, not at all.”
“Orange juice would be nice,” Kenny said, though, and the waitress nodded.
As she left, Kenny said, “That was fast.”
Milo looked down at his plate and nodded agreement saying, “So fast I don’t fucking trust it. This shit could have been sitting under a heat lamp just waiting for me.
Taste fresh,” he said though, after a second.
“Well, like I was saying,” Kenny said, “everything you said is true. And that’s why I picked him. And by the way, he has a great body.”
“He’s a nice looking guy. I won’t argue that.”
“The sex is fantastic.”
“Is or was?” Milo said.
Kenny cupped his hand over his mouth, and leaning in, whispered: “Is.”
“Seriously?” Milo put his fork down. “Seriously, Ken?”
“He stayed the night. I think he’s staying tonight too.”
“Well,” Milo shrugged. “I guess there’s no harm.”
“That’s just it,” Kenny said. “I’m not sure that there is no harm.”
“Whaddo you mean?”
Kenny bit into a strawberry and confessed, “I think I know the reason Brendan hasn’t been back home.”
“You think he knows?”
Kenny nodded with the bitten strawberry still in his hand.
“I think he came back while we were fucking.”

When Brendan finally woke with a fuzzy mouth, he turned around and looked at Sheridan, mouth wide open, sleeping on his back.
“Sheridan,” Brendan nudged him. “Sheridan.”
His friend stretched and muttered, “Hate sleeping in clothes.”
“Yeah,” Brendan shrugged. A light blanket was thrown over the both of them and he was in jeans and a tee shirt.
“Did we kill that entire bottle?”
Sheridan climbed off the bed and staggered to get his balance.
“Bren, we killed two bottles. Shit. I have to pee.”
“Well you know where the bathroom is,” Brendan told him as Sheridan went there.
Brendan decided it would be a good thing to make coffee and he remembered leaving some here three years ago. As Sheridan peed loudly and groaned, Brendan turned on the faucet and stumbled to make the coffee.
By the time Sheridan came out, Brendan informed him, “We’re gonna have coffee in a very few minutes.”
“You’re always taking care of me,” Sheridan said. “Even when I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
He threw his arms around Brendan and half collapsed against him.
“I love you Bren. You know that right? You don’t ever have to feel alone cause I… I just fucking love you.”
“And I love you too, Sheridan, but you gotta get off me.”
“Too much emotion?”
“No, too much chocolate cake. I need to get in the bathroom. I hope there’s aerosal.”
“You’re so sexy,” Sheridan told him as Brendan went to the bathroom and shut the door.
The pot percolated and the smell of very old coffee filled the kitchen.
“I’m so glad I went in there before you, man,” Sheridan murmured.
“Sheridan!” Brendan called from the other side of the bathroom door. “Sheridan!”
Sheridan came to the door and said, “You need paper?”
“No… well, yes. Now that I think of it. Just leave it at the door. But the point is… I really appreciate you. I mean, I’m glad we’re… whatever we are.”
“Friends.”
“Yes. Yes,” Brendan said, reflexively. “But I always treated you like a little brother, and now we’re grown ups together. You know. We’re more than friends.”
“Yes, Bren,” Sheridan said. “Yes we are.”
Because he didn’t know what else to say, he said, “I’ll go and get you that paper.”

LATER BELOVEDS, SEE YOU SATURDAY NIGHT WITH MORE ROSSFORD
 
That was a very well done portion! I am glad Fenn is so accepting of Lance being around. Brendan and Sheridan are cute together. I wonder if they will become something? I guess I will have to wait and see. I could be on the totally wrong track. Great writing and I look forward to more in a few days!
 
It's always fun to speculate and see where things are going and Bren and Sheridan are definitely fun together. Fenn seems to have come to a very solid decision that Lance is the one for his son. There will be more on the other side of Friday. I hope you have an excellent weekend.
 
APOLOGIES FOR THE ROSSFORD DELAY. APPARENTLY I PROMISED ROSSFORD ON SATURDAY NIGHT AND NOT SUNDAY....


TONIGHT IN ROSSFORD, KENNY CONTINUES HIS BIG BREAKFAST, BRENDAN AND SHERIDAN END THEIR SLEEP OVER SO THEY CAN GET BREAKFAST TOO, A PREGNANT MARIS IS SNUBBED BY A BITCHY ELIAS AND WE ALL MEET MAGGIE BIGGS



“Well, I don’t know if farmers eat like that or not,” Kenny said, “and I suspect you’re probably right and they don’t. But I gotta tell you; that was one good breakfast.”
As the waitress was coming back, she said, “Can I get you anything else? Was it all to your liking?”
“My colleague was just saying that this was one great breakfast,” Milo told her. “And I agree. I think all we need is the check.”
“I’ll be right back with that in a minute.”
“We should have told her to split it,” Kenny said, ruefully as she departed, but Milo said, “Don’t be crazy. I got this.”
“You’re a great friend.”
“Yes,” Milo agreed. “Yes, I am. And don’t you forget it.”
“I think what I really needed was just to talk about things. That always makes stuff better.”
“So, I would ask you what you’re going to do. But…”
“I have no clue,” Kenny said.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Here’s your check,” the waitress said. “Have a great day, guys.”
“We’re going to have to tip her well.”
“You’re going to have to tip her for her ass,” Kenny reminded him. “You already said so.”
“Is that twenty percent plus ten? I think that’s a fair ratio.” Milo said, opening up the little book with the check.
When they had paid and Kenny told the boy as the front desk to have a good day while Milo took a mint for himself and his friend, they turned around and nearly stumbled into the people entering.
“Shelley Latham,” Milo said in a voice that always disconcerted her. “And this is your lovely mother? And your uncle?”
“That’s right,” Shelley said. “Mother, this is Milo. His wife is best friends with Claire.”
“Good to meet you, Milo,” she said.
“And you,” Milo returned. “And you must be Sean,” Milo said.
“Yes,” Sean said. They all seemed so nervous around him, Milo thought.
“You already know my friend, Kenneth.”
“Yes,” Sean said. “Yes, we met the other night.”
“It’s good to see you again,” Kenny looked a shade paler than usual.
“You too Kenny. I hoped I’d see you again.”
“You can,” Milo interrupted.
“Wha?” Kenny began.
“We’re going to the movies this afternoon.”
“I wouldn’t want to horn in—”
“We have an extra ticket.”
“We—” Kenny began.
“Please come,” Milo continued. “Show starts at three.”
“I’ll…”
“Say you’ll be there,” Milo said.
“Fine,” Sean decided. “I will. I will be there.”
“Where?” Kenneth said, looking at Milo, face red.
“At the playhouse. On Demming.”
“They have movies at the playhouse?” Erin Latham said.
“They got everything at the playhouse.”
He looked at Kenny and then said, “Now, let’s go.”

“We had a slumber party,” Brendan said, sounding a little bit like a kid.
“I haven’t had a slumber party since I was fresh and virginal,” Sheridan said.
“You and me both, kid,” Brendan told him, sipping his coffee.
“So what else do you want to do on the day after Christmas?”
“I don’t want to do a thing,” Brendan said. “I guess we could straighten this place up.”
And then Brendan said, “Excuse me, I just roped you into helping all day.”
“Brendan, I have nothing better to do.”
Then Sheridan said, “Let me phrase this different: I would love to help you put your place together. Uh—” Sheridan interrupted himself, frowning.
“Wha?” Brendan put down his coffee cup.
Sheridan tossed the packet to him.
“It’s your Christmas present. You never opened it.”
“Oh, my bad. Here I go,” Brendan sat up and began unwrapping the present.
“Oh, snap! What’s this?” Brendan held the gift away from him, but by his smile he clearly knew what it was.
“It’s a journal. I thought you’d like it.”
“But how did you know?”
“I’ve seen you scribbling away lately. Sitting around filling steno pads. I know you write lots of stuff, and I thought that this would be a good place to put it in.”
Brendan put the journal away carefully, and folded his legs under him.
“Thanks, Sheridan. Thanks a lot. Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah, Bren.”
“I didn’t think anyone noticed.”
“I noticed.”
“I would like to write.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I’ve been doing it a while. Only… it’s Layla’s thing so…”
“Brendan,” Sheridan said, “it’s not anybody’s thing. If you want to write, write.”
Brendan smiled at him and said, “Not even Kenny knows.”
“Whaddo you do? Poems?”
“Sometimes,” Brendan said. “But… I want to write a book. I really would like to write a novel.”
“Any ideas?”
“Yes. I have a really big idea. I have a story in my head that I never tell anyone about.”
“Would you tell me?”
Brendan thought about it and then said, “No.”
“Oh.”
“No,” Brendan shook his head. “What I mean is… I would rather write it and show it to you than just talk about it.”
“Alright,” Sheridan nodded. He said, “That’s so cool. I don’t have anything like that. I don’t have stories going on in my head.”
Sheridan stood up and then turned around and said, “You know what, Bren?”
“What?” Brendan sat back and looked at Sheridan.
“I’m going to be your muse.”
“Are you going to take off your clothes now and pose?”
Sheridan laughed and then jumped across the room and hopped on Brendan.
“Hey!” he cried. “Look, you’re a grown man now. There’s weight to you.”
Sheridan remembered something and said, “Let’s go to the show today?”
“Movie?”
“No, play. There’s one this afternoon. You, me, Layla and Will. How’bout it?”
Brendan nodded.
“I like it. Should I bathe?”
Sheridan bent down and sniffed him.
“That’d be preferable.”

“This has been the longest fucking train ride,” Maia said as the train slid along the tracks under Van Buren Street and then went into the darkness.
“You should have been on it since South Bend,” a woman across from her said.
“Damn,” Maia murmured. “No doubt.”
“Did either one of you hear the conductor say get your bags?” Laurel said.
“We’re at the last stop.”
“This is the last stop. All riders must disembark at the Randolph Street Station,” the conductor called.
As the train came to a halt, Laurel yawned, stood up, pulled down Maia’s bag and then hers and said, “Let’s slither on to the door.”
They arrived at the doors with the other people eager to get off as the train came to a rest, and then the doors slid open and Laurel headed out, making sure Maia was behind her as they went up the underground platform.
“How do we know Melanie’s family?”
“Uh… I really don’t know,” Maia said. “I guess they’ll look like her.”
“You don’t know?” Laurel said. “You never even found out. You haven’t seen these people?”
“Oh, damn, relax, Lara.” Maia reshifted her bag and said, “Plus, I’m supposed to call Dad the moment we’re off the train, and then she said, “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“Over there?” Maia gestured with her free hand. “You can’t miss ‘em. It’s like something out of Fiddler on the Roof.”
Laurel didn’t know what her cousin meant, but then she did. She did because in the middle of a swarm of very ordinary looking people were three boys in black suits and hats with, yes, holy shit, fringes hanging from their shirts.
“They… can’t… be,” Laurel began.
But even as she said that, the smallest of the boys began waving a sign and the sign said: “WELCOME MAIA AND LAUREL.”
Maia looked at Laurel and Laurel said, “It’ll be something to write home about. You know?”

“Are you alright?” Lindsay asked her friend as they walked down the street toward the drug store.
“No, I am not alright,” Maris told her, pushing her hair out of her face. “I am fucking pregnant is what I am.”
“Hunter’s going to take this so badly.”
Maris stopped walking. Lindsay kept on, not paying attention until she was nearly fifteen feet away.
“Mare,” she said, turning around.
Maris caught up with her.
“You listen to me, Lindsay,” Maris said.
“Alright.”
“Hunter isn’t going to take this badly. He isn’t going to take it any way at all.”
Lindsay looked at her friend as if, should she stare long enough, by osmosis she would understand what the girl was trying to say.
“He’s never going to know,” Maris said flatly.
“You’re going to have—” and then Lindsay whispered, “You’re going to have an abortion.”
“No! God, I don’t even know where to get one, or how I could afford one. Or… Well, I don’t think I would get one.”
Maris looked more reflective, as if voicing this had made the idea a possibility. Then she said, “As far as I know, no. But I’m going to do something.”
As they walked into the drugstore, the first people they saw in the juice aisle were Elias and Bennett Anderson.
“Hey…” Bennett began.
“Maris,” Maris supplied.
“I know,” Bennett told her. “Maris, this is my brother, Elias.”
“We’re twins,” Elias told her, shaking his hand.
“You’re joking,” Lindsay said.
“No,” Elias said. “We are twins.”
“I guess you don’t do everything together,” Maris told them, “because you weren’t at the party the other night.”
“Party?” Then Elias remembered: “No. No. I was at another party. A family thing.”
“Well, feel free to come to the next one,” Maris said to them both. “There’s one at Rick’s house next Monday. You both should totally come.”
“I don’t know,” Lindsay said. “They don’t look like Rick kind of people.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Maris and Bennett said at the same time.
“If you’re talking about Rick Vasser,” Elias said, “I’m sure we’re cool enough for him.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Lindsay said. “I mean, even I’m not a Rick kind of person.”
“What she means,” Maris supplied, “is that Rick is a bit wild. And I say that’s just a can of shit. You all come. In fact, you come with me.”
“Alright,” Bennett said.
“Huh?” Elias looked at him.
“We’ll be there.”
“In fact,” Maris continued, “we’ll pick you up.”
“Great,” Elias jumped in before his brother could say anything. “We’ll see you then, but for now, we’ve got to go.”
The dark haired boy pulled Bennett down the freezer aisle and Lindsay said, “I think that Elias doesn’t like you that well.”
Maris looked at her friend in irritation. “So what?”
“I was just say—”
“Besides,” Maris elaborated, “It’s not Elias I’m interested in.”
Lindsay thought for a moment, and then she said, “You like Bennett.”
“I like him better than I liked anyone else.”
“You’re going to ask him to date you?” Lindsay said after a moment. “In your condition?”
“Firstly,” Maris hissed, beginning to lose patience, “shut the fuck up about my condition. Which is knocked up. Secondly, no, I’m not trying to make a boyfriend out of him.”
Maris went through the store finding nail polish, nail polish remover, laughing at the family planning aisle cause it was too late for that, grabbing some Fritos and the generic aspirin for the headache Lindsay was giving her. On her way to the counter she saw Maggie Biggs.
“I know you,” Maggie said.
“I know you too. You’re the new girl, Maggie.”
“That’s right,” Maggie said.
“Well,” Maris said, “party this Monday at Rick Jarvis’s.”
“Cool,” Maggie was dark haired, very pretty and a little wicked, Maris suspected, and she liked that. “I’ll definitely be there.”
“And this is my friend, Lindsay.”
Lindsay actually curtseyed, and then felt really stupid.
“Actually,” Maris said, “What are you doing now?”
“I am just grabbing a few things to take back to the apartment and then,” she shrugged and made a face. “Day after Christmas, so…”
“Hang out with us!” Lindsay said.
Maris looked at Lindsay, and then turned to Maggie and said, “This is exactly what I was going to say. Only in a much more tasteful way.”
“Well,” Maggie told her, “tasteful or not, I’d love to hang out with you girls. But I need some cigarettes, first.”
“Maris smokes,” Lindsay said.
“Thank you, Lindsay,” Maris muttered, tiredly. “And right now, it’s probably not such a great idea.”
“Well, if you change your mind,” Maggie said, “bum some off of me. Come on girls. Let’s get out of here and find some shit to do.”

“Oh, my God, look at those dumb bitches,” Maggie said, pointing her burning cigarette to the young couple.
“Have you ever noticed that nowadays couples consist of some jumped up twat marching her dumbass boyfriend by the balls, and I swear it’s like he’s got nothing to say, he’s just there to be dragged around. He can’t fucking think and she can’t fucking be alone. Somewhere in the dark, five minutes happen and that’s how babies get born. Then, Mom’s a bitch and Dad’s still this dumb, confused motherfucker, and the world just keeps tick tock motherfucking going on.”
She took another drag on her cigarette, and exhaled, thinking of this.
“If men don’t hurry up and stop being losers, I’m going to die a virgin.”
“Well, I couldn’t wait,” Maris said.
With a raised eyebrow, Maggie looked at her new friend.
“I stopped waiting for boys to turn into men when I realized that was sort of bullshit. I wanted to have sex. So did Hunter, so we did.”
“Is Hunter a total douche?”
“Fuck yes,” Maris shook her head. “He’s got the IQ of a dildo”
“That’s not fair,” Lindsay said, then added, “to the dildo”
“Touché,” Maris said. “A rare attack of bitchiness from Lindsay McGovern.”
“Well, he deserves it,” Lindsay told her.
“Lindsay, are you usually sunshine and light?” Maggie said.
Lindsay didn’t answer. It was Maris who explained:
“She’s got the good father and the happy mother. She’d sort of be doing a disservice to her good Christian upbringing not to be sunshine and light.”
“What about you?” Lindsay said to Maggie.
Lindsay cleared her throat, and shook out her hair.
“My mother…? Is the aforementioned bitch who couldn’t be alone. My dad… I never even met him.”
Lindsay started to say, “Aww,” but had better sense than that, and Maris thought of her baby, but said only, “Maybe it’s better that way.”
“Maybe,” Maggie allowed. “But I can’t really believe that.”
 
I am glad Brendan has decided to write a book. I hope we get to hear what its about. Poor Maris! I am interested to see what happens with her next. Maggie seems like a cool girl, I hope we get to see a lot more of her. Great writing and I look forward to more soon!
 
TONIGHT, KENNY GOES ON A HOT DATE AND BRENDAN GETS IRRITATED

Mr Fromm was unnerving the hell out Laurel Houghton, mainly because while they sped up Lake Shore Drive, he had the terrible tendency to look back directly at them, and ask questions, seeming to pay no attention to the road.
“So Melanie is well?”
“Very.” Maia had no idea how much she should tell Orthodox Jews about their lesbian cousin, but soon Marta Fromm said, “I hope she found a good Temple up where you guys live. She’d probably feel more at home there, being as she is.”
“There is one. There are a couple,” Maia said.
“Oh, that’s good. It’s all good for her,” Marta said. “She couldn’t take this kind of life. It would have driven her out of Judaism completely.
“She used to hate the mehitzah!” Mr Fromm said, slapping the wheel. “I remember she used to tell our grandfather that one day she would burn it down. The old man almost had a heart attack. He loved her, but she almost killed him.”
He shook his head and laughed, the car shaking with him.
The middle boy, with an oval face and oval round spectacles leaned over the seat and told Laurel and Maia, “My great-grandfather, your stepmother’s grandfather, was an old rabbi from Russia. He didn’t speak English at all.”
“He spoke a little,” the older boy, who had been giving Laurel unnerving glances, disagreed.
“Yeah,” said the young one, who Maia remembered was called Noach, “but they were all swear words.”
Laurel snorted while Marta Fromm shook her head and then asked, “Are you girls Jewish?”
“My father is,” Maia said. “But I never…” she found herself sounding apologetic and then she said, “You know what? I don’t even know.”
“Well, if your mother’s mother is—”
“I know all that,” Maia waved it off. “I mean, I don’t know if it means anything to me. I don’t know if I’m serious about it, and I never thought about that until now.”
“And you?” the oldest boy said to Laurel.
“I’m Catholic,” Laurel said. “When I’m anything.”
“I like Catholics,” the boy said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Maia looked at him.
“Are you flirting with me?” Laurel said, baldly.
“Moshe,” his mother reprimanded.
Moshe shrugged and turned around. “All I said is I like pretty Catholics.”
“You did not say that,” Laurel told him. “And now I know you’re flirting.”
“He can’t help himself,” Mr Fromm said. “But just think about it. You’re a very pretty girl and a long time ago we were a lot darker. I would love to have a Black grandchild. All it takes is a little dip in the water, and you’re completely kosher.”
“Forgive my husband,” Marta said. “He…” she stopped.
“There really isn’t any excuse. I was looking for one. There is none.”
Marta looked at Maia and said, “Jews can be pushy. Is that why you haven’t thought about where you stand?”
“It’s a lot of reasons,” Maia said. “One of them being I just turned sixteen.”
“Well, maybe you can think about it when you’re with us,” Mr. Fromm said.
“Melanie says that’s what you always say to reel people in and make them Orthodox.”
Mr. Fromm shook his head, but Noach said, “Well, now Dad, that is kind of true.”
“Noach!” Now Marta shook her head.
“I might by Jewish,” Maia said. “But I don’t think I’m Orthodox.”
The older boy, Moshe, who was still smiling at Laurel, turned from her and looking to Maia said, “No, I don’t think you are, either.”

“Well, this is something else,” Milo said, because what else could he say?
He was standing with Kenny when Brendan and Sheridan entered the theatre. The day after Christmas there were several people with not much to do but come and see a play, but still, the playhouse wasn’t that crowded.
“Where have you been?” Kenny said.
“Brendan’s moved back to the apartment under Fenn and Todd’s,” Sheridan supplied, not sure of what Brendan was going to say.
But Brendan retorted, “Well, where have you been?”
“Bren,” Milo began, “could I talk to you?”
“Sure,” Brendan said, looking not at all in a mood to be talked to.
“How much do you know about what’s been happening with Kenny in the last few days?”
“I know he was getting fucked by Ruthven Meraden.”
“Woah,” Milo stuffed his hands in his pocket.
“So you all are watching a play today?”
“Well, more than that,” Milo said.
“What? Now the two of you are lovers?”
Milo snorted, “I don’t think Dena would go for that.”
“No, she would not. I remember that.”
“But he is sort of going to have a date.”
“Really?”
“Only he doesn’t know it.”
Brendan raised an eyebrow to Milo.
“Look, you weren’t supposed to be here,” Milo said.
“Oh, excuse me.”
“I mean I didn’t plan on that.”
“Well, I could always turn around and leave.”
“Sarcasm isn’t cute, Bren. Besides… what about you and Sheridan?”
“What about me and Sheridan?”
Milo tried to affect a sly smile.
“What’s going on?” Milo said.
“You’re getting on my nerves is what’s going on.”
“I was just going to say,” Milo hooked an arm around Brendan, “if I swung in that direction, well, Sheridan’s not a bad looking guy.”
“If you’re telling me Sheridan’s a good looking guy, then you’re already swinging in that direction,” Brendan said, removing Milo’s arm.
“Sher!” he said.
Sheridan came forward.
“Do you want to leave?” he said.
“Leave? Why should I leave?”
“Exactly,” Milo chimed in.
Brendan looked at him.
“I’ll just shut up. Ah—”
And Brendan turned around following the ‘ah’.
“That’s Sean Babcock,” Brendan said.
“That’s the date,” said Milo.

Sheridan pulled Brendan by the hand and said, “Three rows up. At least.”
“Alright,” Brendan muttered.
“Whaddo you care?” Sheridan added. “Kenny’s supposed to be having a new life. You wanted it that way. Come to think of it, you’re supposed to be having a new life.”
Brendan nodded and followed Sheridan into the row, nodding at Milo and Kenny. He didn’t really know Sean. As the lights dimmed he saw the tops of their heads.

Three rows down Milo said, “Well, no, I’ll sit here,” and then left his space between Milo and Sean blank, while he sat beside his old friend. The film was just starting when Milo raised a finger and said, “I need the restroom,” and got up.
Kenny paid little attention to the movie, waiting for his friend to come back, and then after a while, when he heard Sean chuckle a little, he turned to see the other man in the dark. By the projector light he saw the high plains of his face, the curls of his dark hair.
Sean turned to Kenny and said, “I don’t think Milo’s coming back.”
“No,” Kenny said. “I don’t think that dirty sneak is, either.”
Sean gave him a lingering smile.
“Don’t be mad at him.”
Kenny felt Sean’s hand on his and Sean said, “He knew what he was doing.”
 
Poor Brendan. I know he is irritated now and still a bit sad about Kenny but I hope he can move on. The religious debate was interesting in the first part of this portion. I am liking these new characters. Great writing and I look forward to more soon!
 
Brendan will just have to be irritated for now, and Milo is a bit irritating, but he will have his own troubles before long and Brendan will have his own rewards. Of course, there isn't really a religious debate because Maia, Laurel and the Fromms aren't actually debating anything, and it wouldn't be like Laurel or Maia to start a religious debate. However, there may be a bit of matchmaking.
 
TONIGHT, LANCE AND DYLAN MAKE SOME HARD DECISIONS AND LOOK AT THE PAST, LAYLA AND WILL GET ON A PLANE AND MEREDITH FINDS COMFORT IN OLD FRIENDS FOR NEW YEAR'S EVE

HE REACHED FOR LANCE and touched his cheek with the side of his hand.
“How long?” he said, “till you head back?”
“Well, tonight I have to stay with my parents.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Dylan said, sitting up.
“I know,” Lance told him. “But I do have to spend some time with them.”
Dylan nodded and said, “It’s just been so long since you’ve been back.”
“I was here at Thanksgiving. And don’t start that.”
“Don’t start that what?”
Lance reached up and took Dylan’s hand.
“You always start living in the future. It’ll be the Fourth of July and you’ll be upset about the day after Christmas.”
“But now it is the day after Christmas.”
“Right, and you’re worried about what happens when I leave and go back to school.”
“I should apply there. That’s where I should go.”
“So we can be together?”
Lance said it in jest, but Dylan said, “Exactly.”
Now they were both sitting up and Lance said, “When did you start getting so sentimental? And sentimental about me?”
“Don’t say it like that,” Dylan said. “I love you.”
“I know Dyl,” Lance said. Then, after a moment, “And you know I love you too.”
“Then let’s be together again. Let’s be… I want you to be my real boyfriend again.”
Dylan looked at Lance. Lance, his hair sticking up, looked something like terrified.
“What?” Dylan began, but Lance was shaking his head, slowly.
“No,” he said. “No, I can’t do that again.”
Now it was Dylan who looked bewildered.
“Why?” he said. “What would be the difference between what we are now, and what we would be then?”
“Well, there’s got to be some difference, or why would you ask?”
“I want you to be my guy. I want us to be what we used to be.”
“No,” Lance said, breathlessly.
“Are you crazy? What we used to… We couldn’t even breathe. We nearly killed each other.” His voice rose. “Do you remember? We almost did. Do you remember what we did?”
That was always in the back of Dylan’s memory. He never brought it up, and now that’s what he said.
“I know,” Lance’s voice was a strangled whisper. “But it happened. It still happened.”
He was quiet a while and then Lance said:
“When you were my boyfriend I was so jealous and so afraid you would leave me, and you did. And when it ended with… what happened…”
Lance was looking at his hands. Now he looked up at Dylan. “Weren’t you scared? Have you forgotten?”
“No,” Dylan began.
“I…” Lance started over. “You know I see a psychiatrist?”
“No.”
“I do. Once a week. I was on pills for a while. That day. I still can’t get out of it. The way I felt. I was so afraid.”
“But I was afraid,” Dylan said. “And angry.”
“I raped you, Dylan.”
“I know,” Dylan said. “But… we did it to each other. In the end.”
Lance turned away from him.
“How can you want to go back to something like that?”
“I’m past it.”
“I’m not,” Lance said, shaking his head. “I was just sixteen. And this monster… I remember dating you there was always this monster inside of me. Afraid, jealous. Doing crazy things. Like when we fucked that kid’s car up.”
“He had it coming.”
“Maybe,” Lance allowed. “But there was something vicious and crazy about us. And I still remember that monster coming out of me. What I did. It scares me so bad, being out of control like that. It is the opposite of everything we do in this bed… And kind of like it all at the same time. And it’s still with me. The fear that the monster’ll come back. Sometimes I remember it and I’m just in this dark place. I want to die.”
“I was there too,” Dylan said. “I remember. I was in the dark place too.”
“I hurt you,” Lance said.
“I hurt you too.”
“It wasn’t the same.”
“Lance,” neither one of them looked at the other. They both looked very tired, very pale, and a little old. “I know what it is like… to do things that stick with you. I know what it’s like to be a monster. To lose control. To be ashamed. I know what it is to be you. I am you.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Dylan,” Lance said, his voice hollow.
“Then be with me.”
“Look,” Lance turned and looked at Dylan. “I will be with you. I will be everything to you. I will… be on the other end of the phone whenever you need me. Love you, laugh with you, fuck your brains out when you need me too! Everything I have… It’s yours. Even my body. But…” he shook his head. “I need the space we have now. I will be anything for you, Dylan. But I won’t be your boyfriend.”

***********************************

While he slept next to her on the plane, Layla looked Will over. William Klasko in his blazer and open shirt, William Klasko, scruffy and unshaven with the nose that tipped forward, Jughead from Archie like. William Klasko of the thick tangle of hair that she liked to turn her fingers through.
She looked out of the window. Beneath her the clouds moved slow as whales. She had never been out of the country and rarely off of the ground. She didn’t know where she was now. She might be over Greenland. Reshifting so that she didn’t wake Will, Layla pulled out her notebook and scribbled.

I see him, hair in a tangle, lips like a rose,
proud eyes burning,
you teach me by being,
I will become human by living,
I will evolve from this thing in the sea,
to become the thing in the air who can
learn to float again in the sea—
I will get past me, and the roadblock to us.

We will dance in the dust,
as long as you stand there,
hair in a tangle, lips like a bow,
I know, we are invincible.

She looked at him and smiled, then wrote:

I go back now to the place of rest.
I go back to knowing I am love again
I go back to know I have loved you
and that is all that matters no matter
what,
no matter how you received it.

if you drank it and drank it and then
sank it, or if you threw it to the ground
like water.

And when I stopped being
stone and learned alone the secret
of society, did I know love would
be a blanket to cover me?
and when
you spilled out my love on the sand,
did you know then
that it would never come
again?

Will blinked at her and yawned a bit. His eyes were black jewels winking through lashes as they squinted. He closed them again.
“What are you thinking?” he said to her.
“Nothing,” she said.


MEREDITH YAWNED AND STRETCHED back, her belly a bowl before her, and then she crossed the kitchen to Chay and embraced him, and then embraced Casey.
“I can’t believe you all are going back.”
“It’s New Years Eve, that’s the time to go back,” Chay told her.
“I know,” Meredith said. “And I’ll be back in a few days, myself. But… Chicago is so much bigger than Rossford.”
“Look, Meredith,” Casey said. “Just make it a priority to come see us. We’ll have a room all ready for you.”
Meredith nodded. “I will. I promise. I’m starting to lose all my friends. I’m turning into one of those people.”
“Those people suck,” Casey said. “So you mustn’t become part of that.”
“Amen,” Chay murmured.
“Oh, are you guys still picking up Logan?”
“Yup,” Chay said. “Cause I think Sheridan’s staying here an extra day or something.”
“Well, I don’t know if Todd told you this or not already,” Meredith was saying, “But he wants you to stop in and check on Maia and Laurel.”
“What for?”
“To see if they’re alright, of course.”
“Aren’t they staying with some Orthodox Jews?” Casey said.
“Yup. Melanie’s cousin.”
“Well, then why would he want…? You know what?” Casey waved it off. “I’ll do it.”
“But we need an address,” Chay said.
“Of course you do,” Meredith told them.
She turned around and went down the hall. A few minutes later she returned with a slip of paper.
Casey screwed up his eyes and looked it over. “Alright,” he murmured, “Okay. We can do this.”
Chay nodded.
“I don’t usually have much cause to go to Roger’s Park. This’ll be interesting.”
“Hey folks!” a voice came calling down the hall.
“Logan?” Chay shouted down.
“The same,” Logan Banford announced as he entered the room.
“Why isn’t Sheridan coming with us, again?” Chay asked.
“Because he can’t come with us and stay with Brendan,” Logan said. “Or rather—come with Brendan.”
“You’re so foul,” Meredith told him.
“There’s nothing between them,” Chay dismissed that.
“Brendan and Kenny are split, me and Sher are split, and he always had a thing for Bren, who is hot by the way. And a lawyer. So…” Logan shrugged.
“Okay!” Meredith threw up her hands. “This is too much gossip. You all gotta get the hell out of here and I need to bathe.”
Hugging them all one by one, she shooed them out of the kitchen and toward the door.
When they were out, Nell Affren came downstairs in the kimono Bill had bought her the year before.
“A virtually empty house,” she remarked. “All over again.”
Meredith nodded.
“Do you want to go to lunch with me and Dena this afternoon?” Nell asked.
“No,” Meredith shook her head. “Thanks, though.”
“Are you not feeling well?” Nell put a hand to her head.
“I’m fine, Nell,” Meredith told her stepmother. “I just have to go visit someone. I think.”
Meredith walked back toward the kitchen.
“If he’s not free—” she began.
“He?”
“Relax, it’s not even like that. But if he’s not, then do you all still want to take me to lunch?”
“After we get over being second choice, we’ll let you come along,” Nell said. “I have to get dressed though.”
Meredith nodded, then went to the phone and dialed a number.
After a bit Sheridan Klasko answered.
“Hello?”
Meredith said, “Are you free for lunch?”
His voice changed, “Mere? Yeah. I sure am.”
“Great. I’ll come by at twelve.”


MORE ROSSFORD TOMORROW AND TOMORROW, THE BLOOD
 
I am glad Dylan and Lance finally talked about what happened in their past. They may not be becoming boyfriends but I still hope they stay in each others lives. I am glad Meredith is spending time with friends. I think she needed that. Layla's poems are excellent as usual! Great writing and I look forward to more soon! I hope you are having a nice night!
 
I am having a good night so far, and settling down to relax and have a better one. More surprises tomorrow night.
 
TONIGHT, MEREDITH LEARNS A THING OR TWO ABOUT SHERIDAN, DYLAN GETS TOLD TO PUT ON A COAT, LAUREL AND MAIA GO TO CHURCH.... BY WHICH I MEAN AN ORTHODOX SYNAGOGUE AND MAGGIE BIGGS HAS HOUSE GUESTS


ACT TWO

NEW
YEAR




YOU SHOULD BE HERE and I should be here
and the beginning of all pleasure should be here,
and here should end all entitlement,
all anger,
all despair.
You cry,
Look! I know.
I cry too.
It isn’t fair.
No, it never was.

Lift your voice and sing,
bring your voice to the tavern and dance
as you sing,
drink as you dance,
god is a drunk old man, twirling in the sky,
and so am I,
this rhythm is the only thing
that keeps our world moving.

-Layla Lawden



FIVE



NEW YEAR’S EVE


“I said my treat.”
“Well, that’s some bullshit,” Sheridan told her, closing the menu. “I’m perfectly capable of paying for my own meal.”
“I was the one who said we should have lunch,” Meredith continued, “and so I thought my treat.”
“No,” Sheridan said again, simply. “And what happened that you called?”
“I was saying goodbye to Chay and realized I was in danger of losing all of my friends. I was remembering that we haven’t hung out in a long time. And then Logan went back with Chay and Casey, so I thought about you.”
“I just realized how rude I sounded,” Sheridan said.
“Yeah,” Meredith said with false astonishment. “You did. I wonder why? Probably because I deserve it for being a cunt.”
“I miss your lady like use of the word cunt.”
“Well,” Meredith said, “I might as well ask you now. I might as well admit I want to eat with you in order to gossip.”
“About?”
“About you,” Meredith said. “And now I wonder why because you were always so private.”
“And is that a bad thing?”
“It’s a bad thing when I’m feeling nosey.”
Sheridan was quiet for a moment, and then he said, “I think I just realized the problem with us.”
“Aside from that we don’t talk enough?”
“It’s probably related to that,” Sheridan said. “But I’m serious.”
“Alright,” Meredith said, folding her hands in front of her, and trying to look serious.
“I’m going to ignore that cheesy pose,” Sheridan said.
“You’re like my sister is the problem.”
“Okay,” Meredith waited for more clarification.
“You’re not like my buddy or my best friend, or my confidante.”
“Thanks, Sher—”
“I mean, you’re literally like my sister. You’re like… if I was Brendan, you wouldn’t be Dena or Layla. You would be Carol.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” Sheridan discovered. He gave her a real smile. “It’s just the way shit is between us.”
“So… speaking of you and Brendan…”
“Yes?” Sheridan frowned at her.
“Logan thinks you’re trying to date him or something.”
“Logan thinks a lot of stuff.”
“Are you?”
“Whaddo you think?”
“Sheridan, you’re being evasive!”
“No, I’m not,” Sheridan said. “I’m explicitly not answering your question.”
The server came forward with their drinks, and Meredith nodded to him with a smile while Sheridan said, “Thank you.”
“I would just like to get a straight answer out of you. For once,” Meredith Affren said.
“Well, how about this?” Sheridan said. “If you give me a straight answer, I’ll give you one.
“Aha! Look at that,” Sheridan hit the table. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask, and look at that look on your face! Well, I’ll tell you. I was going to ask you,” Sheridan leaned in nearer to her, his pale blue eyes fixing her, “Can you picture me and Bren together? Or does it just look awkward?”
Meredith grimaced and sat back, thinking about it.
“Actually,” she said, “the way he is with you, the way he’s always been with you, it could be sort of sweet. That Brendan and Kenny shit was getting old.”
When Sheridan nodded, Meredith saw the smile he could hardly suppress.
“You all are getting together!”
“Not yet,” Sheridan said. “And not really.”
Meredith took a sip from her margarita.
“Pardon me, but I have another question.”
What Meredith had said was making Sheridan feel generous and so he said, with a wave of the hand, “Sure. Shoot.”
“Okay. Brendan acts like your big brother. And he is your big brother’s best friend. So…?”
“Yeah?” Sheridan said, over his beer.
“How would sex work out between you? Like… how do you envision the first time?”
Sheridan went red at this, and Meredith said, “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No,” Sheridan said. “No, no. It’s just…”
Meredith waited.
“Do you remember before Bren and Kenny went off to Chicago and after I split up with Chay and was going back to Logan.”
“Yes. I was still having that on again off again but basically off again thing with Mathan.”
“Right,” Sheridan said, though, in fact, this was news to him.
“Well, me and Brendan had sex then.”
“What!”
“I’m not repeating that.”
“You all slept together? Like, three years ago?”
“Yes,” Sheridan said. “It sort of just happened and it was really, really intense. But Brendan felt like it shouldn’t have happened, and we had other things going on. So we just sort of went back to being what we were and forgot about it.”
“Only you didn’t forget about it.”
“Of course I didn’t forget about it!” Sheridan said. “How could I forget having sex with my brother’s best friend.”
Then Sheridan said, “But I think he did.”
“Bullshit,” Meredith shook her head.
Sheridan looked at her.
“That’s bullshit,” she repeated.
“You don’t forget one night you spent screwing someone.”
“We actually did it a few times. Three or four times before we just decided to chill out.”
“Well, then of course he remembers. He’s an attorney for Christ sake. And… once, six years ago, I accidentally ate a piece of cheesecake Fenn marked for him and that son of a bitch still brings it up. Trust me, Bren never forgets.”
Sheridan nodded. His eyes changed to a darker blue and he said, “Maybe he just regrets that it happened.”
“I doubt that,” Meredith said. “Maybe he’s just afraid.”


“Um,” Fenn Houghton commented as he sat across the kitchen table from Tara Veems and his sister, “Brendan’s going out. And Sheridan’s not with him for the first time in a week.”
“Sheridan, Will’s brother?” Adele clarified.
Fenn nodded as he dug into left over macaroni.
“The same,” he said. “He’s practically been living here.”
“With Dylan and Lance upstairs and the two of them downstairs, you got a Love Boat going on,” Tara said.
“Now you just better make sure you tend to your own love life,” Adele told her brother.
“That is in no danger or changing. It’s no way I’m going to be the only person in my house not having sex—
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Fenn looked at Dylan coming down the stairs with Lance.
“I’ll go get a coat,” Dylan said, sulkily.
“You will go and get a coat and take that silly ass hat off your head.”
“You don’t make Lance get bundled up like a twelve year old,” Dylan muttered, going back upstairs.
“Lance isn’t my son,” Fenn said, as Lance Bishop followed Dylan, “so he can be as stupid as he wants to be and contract pneumonia as many times as it suits him.”
“I’ll put a coat on!” Lance shouted down the stairs.
“What is it with white folks?” Fenn wondered. “Do they think that if they dress like it’s spring, then it will be?”
“It must be like having another son in the house,” Tara said, “when he’s here.”
“I don’t know what it’s like,” Fenn said. “And I don’t dare go upstairs when the door’s close. That’s his best friend and his ex so I don’t know if their lip syncing or fucking.”
“You are an amazing man,” Adele told her brother. “You do things I could never have done with Layla.”
“I’m also twenty years older than you were with Layla. And had things been different and Layla ended up with Dena instead of Will—”
“That would have been very different.”
“Agreed. But if it had been that way, would you have been able to split them up just because you suspected more was going on when the door was closed than made you comfortable?”
“Alright,” Dylan bounced into the kitchen, “Is this enough?”
“Don’t try me, Dylan. You know it is.”
“And me?” Lance said. “Even though I’m a nineteen year old grown man.”
“Did I ever tell you what to do?” Fenn said.
“You did imply it.”
“Well, then right now I’m implying that a nineteen year old grown man should know better than to walk out the door in a Starter jacket and ball cap and let his best friend walk out in a tee shirt and silly knit cap with pom poms.”
Lance opened his mouth, but Fenn said, “And now you can both go, and don’t come back without milk, orange juice and pancake mix.”
“Is that all?” Dylan said.
“Now that you mention it, a quart of yogurt for the chicken tonight, and Todd needs Shabbos candles.”
“We better go,” Dylan told Lance, “or he’ll have us buying up the whole store.”
“Don’t be insolent and kiss your aunts before you leave.”
Dylan did so while Lance politely said, goodbye and then Fenn said, “What about me? Or are you so exasperated you can’t kiss your old father?”
Dylan rolled his eyes and kissed his father on the cheek and then headed out of the kitchen.
“I like that Lance boy,” Adele said.
“And how many people have a chance to raise their son-in-laws?”
Fenn shook his head ruefully at this comment, but Adele said, “I thought Todd would be back from Temple by now.”
“Remember, Todd went Conservative,” Tara said. “So did Melanie. They might not get back from the synagogue until two o’ clock.”
“Um, that reminds me,” Fenn began.
“Of?” Tara looked at him.
“Your daughter and our niece spending their first Sabbath in an Orthodox synagogue.”




Maia and Laurel sat, quiet with their prayer books in hand. Laurel turned to Maia and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh, you know what you should have gotten,” the middle aged woman behind her said, “A transliterated one. Hold on.”
She got up, and a few moments later returned with two books.
“Now you want to be right here,” she stage whispered.
On the other side of the screen the men were garbling something Laurel couldn’t understand, and then suddenly they went into song. She had been feeling profoundly uncomfortable since she’d come this morning and now suddenly the singing touched her.
“Right here,” the woman behind them said. All the other women rose, and Laurel and Maia got up with them. She finished whispering, “Follow along with the English. If you’re feeling adventurous, give the transliterated part a go. I’ll be back.”
She was a narrow woman with grey hair that peeked from under a purple cap, and she came out to read off, “Mishebararachs for Simon Rubenstein…” and then a list of names that went past Laurel’s head. A hand touched her on the shoulder and she turned around.
“Welcome,” a blond woman in glasses smiled at her. “You all must be Laurel and Maia.”
“Yes,” Laurel said, and Maia echoed her.
“I’m Laura. So we’ve almost got that in common. And that’s Lizzy out there.”
“Have you guys ever been to a synagogue before?” another woman with frizzy reddish brown hair said, interested. “I’m Miriam.”
“Maia’s Jewish, but she goes to a Reform synagogue,” Laurel said.
“Well…” Miriam said, looking at Lizzy, “it works for some people.”
“It doesn’t really work for me,” Maia said. “This is my first time at an Orthodox place. And… Laurel’s never been in any shul at all.”
“If you get confused or… need anything,” Miriam said, “Just let us know.”
“My father was a Baptist,” Laura said as Lizzy came back behind the mehitzah, “and my mother was Reform. I have to tell you, neither one prepared me for an Orthodox synsagogue.”
There had been man after man, garbling something quickly, some times stammering over whatever they were saying. Now a sonorous voice began to chant and Lizzy smiled brightly at the girls while Laurel said, “That is so beautiful.”
“That is Moshe.”
“Moshe!”
“Yes… Your cousin,” she said to Maia. “He is one of our best readers. Hashem gave him a gift.”
Between the reeds of the mehitzah, Laurel saw the tall young man reading from the Torah scroll at the bema. Up until now, her embarrassment had overcome her sense of the sacred. Now it was beautiful to her, and in a way so was he. When he was done there was more chanting, but not like that, and then, with a jingling, the Torah was being wrapped up, and silver things were put on it. It was hoisted into the air, and on the other side, men with their great tallits and fringes rose while, here, the women rose and they began to sing. Laurel had to sing it as well. Her eyes followed the words on the page.


Eitz cha-yim hi,
la-ma-cha-zi-kim ba,
v'to-m'che-ha m'u-shar.
d'ra-che-ha, dar-chei no-am,
v'chawl n'ti-vo-te-cha, sha-lom.
O-rech ya-mim bi-mi-na,
bish-mo-lah o-sher v'cha-vod.
A-do-nai cha-feits, l'ma-an tsid-ko,
yag-dil To-rah v'ya-'dir.

Then all at once, conversation ceased, and they began to chant, on the other side of the mehitzah, and within:

As they sang, the Torah was placed in the ark and the doors were closed. Moshe had turned from the bema and, in an instant, caught Laurel’s eye. She thought to turn away, but stood looking at him through the slats. He smiled at her, and for reasons she could not explain, she stuck out her tongue, and turned away.

“You girls have become belles of the ball,” Marta declared.
“Everyone’s pretty friendly,” Maia said.
“I was going to have you sit with us, but I think Lizzy’s already kidnapped you. There’s the line for the chicken. Don’t be sweet about it. Just push on through.”
“This is like a family dinner,” Laurel marveled.
“That’s just it,” Marta said, guiding them through, while women smiled at them, and some boy in a black brimmed hat gave her an inappropriate wink, “once you realize it’s just like family, all of your little niceties fade away.”
“Girls!” Lizzy was coming forward, “I stole about half the hotdish from Aaron’s table. They were hogging it all. Come over with me, and we’ll just talk.”
“See,” Marta said, and shooed the girls in Lizzy’s direction.
“There they are,” Laura said. “So I have a question for you, Laurel?”
“Alright,” Laurel said, sitting down, taking a drumstick and putting it on her plate.
“Had you thought of becoming Jewish?”
Laurel opened her mouth, and when nothing came out, Maia said, “Laurel is so polite, and what I think she means is it never occurred to her.”
“I only ask,” Laura said, “because you’re just a natural fit.”
“I don’t even know Hebrew,” Laurel said. “I am… absolutely awkward.”
“You’re a dear,” Lizzy disagreed. “And you have mastered a great Frum trick.”
“Which is?” Laurel said.
“Your entire body is covered,” Laura explained. “You look completely demure, and the boys still can’t stop looking at you.”


“You have an awesome apartment,” Maris said before reforming, “Actually, any apartment is awesome to me though.”
“Where are your parents?” Lindsay asked, walking around the place.
Maggie looked at Lindsay.
“I mean your mother.”
“My mother,” Maggie said, “is in New Mexico, where I left her.”
“Wait?” Maris said.
“Yeah?”
“If your mother’s in New Mexico—“
“How do I pay for this apartment?”
“No,” Maris said, “though that’s an interesting question too. But what I was going to say is, ‘Why the hell are you in Rossford?’ I mean, it seems like things should be the other way around. I would run away from Rossy in a minute.”
“Rossford’s not so bad,” Maggie said, handing Maris a Coke, and then Lindsay one too, while she went to sit on the beat up sofa. “It’s next to Chicago and there’s even a handy dandy train to take you there.”
“But that’s not why you moved here,” Lindsay said.
“No, it certainly isn’t,” Maggie agreed.
“I saved up a lot of cash and came out here. Mom sends me money once a month. She says it’s cheaper to keep me out here in Indiana than to raise me in New Mexico.”
“I wish my mother would do that,” Maris said.
“I don’t,” Lindsay disagreed, soberly, sitting on the edge of the sofa.
“I came out here,” Maggie said, “because my father lives here, and I’m going to find him.”
Both girls looked at her.
“So…” Maris began, “you traced him to here, but you don’t know who he is, yet?”
“I do know who he is,” Maggie said. “Only… I don’t want him to know who I am. That’s all. Not yet.”
“What will you do when you meet him?”
“I don’t know,” Maggie said.
“Well, you’ll have to do something,” Maris said.
Suddenly a little put out with Maris, Maggie said, “And what will you do when that baby of yours starts showing?”



MORE AFTER THE WEEKEND




 
Wow lots going on in this portion! I still hold out hope that Sheridan and Brendan will end up together. I guess I will have to wait and see what happens. Fenn is a good father. I like that he is so accepting of Lance. I am also enjoying getting to know these new characters. Great writing and I look forward to more in a few days! Have a great weekend!
 
So, I love new characters too, all the time, not just keeping the same folks, or keeping the same folks doing the same thing, and this story is going to have a LOT of surprises. It's actually may favorite. I have a question: so far, who is your favorite new character AND were there any surprises tonight?
 
Maggie is my favourite new character. I don't think there were any real surprises tonight. I am always a bit surprised as this story is unpredictable which is a good thing I think.
 
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