What're you lookin' at? | Ramblings from a self-proclaimed yada yada yada...ist

Brain Fest Friday: Killing two birds with one (tragic) stone

When I first brought up the idea of TLF part three, I'll admit, I was nervous. Without the charm and naiveté of 'lil Frema, how could this saga possibly continue? Is it worth it without the commentary? Did I have it in me? (Your mom has it in her!) And where on earth would I find the time to write pages of morally reprehensible fiction when I can barely manage to update my blogs?

Despite my concerns, I decided to go for it, and with the help of a stellar creative team, have pulled together some kick-ass storylines sure to keep both you and your mom on your toes. The first installment will be posted next Friday as planned, and I can't think of a better way to spend my (very little) free time than bringing these characters back to life. Literally, for some.

But first I want to pick your brain. Getting a feel for where you're at with these characters will add further direction to the group's ideas and give us all a refresher course in what makes this tale so darn tragic.

TLF fans, I'd be much obliged if you'd answer one or more of the following questions:

• Out of the entire series thus far, who is your favorite character? Why?
• Who's your least favorite?
• Which character would you define as the most tragic?
• Any loose ends you want tied up?
• What do you want more of in part three?
• What could you do without?
• Who is your favorite couple? (Answers can include dead characters and those of the non-romantic variety.)
• What you describe as the most defining moment in the series?

For those unfamiliar with the antics of the 90210 gang from hell, check out the reader recaps for parts one and two. If you're feeling really ambitious, read the entire archive. You won't be sorry.

Horrified, maybe. But not sorry.

Moods, swinging of, even moreso than Jenna's

At the time of the start of this entry it's 2:08 in the morning. I should be catching some zzzz's, but instead I've chosen to burden the Internet with my tormented, sort-of-depressing thoughts. Lucky you.

The time has come for Luke and I to put our one-income-family plan into action. His last day of work has already been acknowledged by his department with a farewell lunch at Rock Bottom. I've been in contact with my supervisor and made plans for us to share a meal of our own before heading back to the office, to get up to speed on what I've missed and mentally prepare for what things will be like upon my return. It's no longer numbers typed into an Excel spreadsheet; it's our reality. Luke is a stay-at-home dad. I'm a working mom.

And even though there are still almost three weeks until I have to swipe my security badge at the lab's employee entrance, I feel like my maternity leave is already ending, because come five o'clock tomorrow, Kara and I will say good-bye to this special time we've had getting to know each other. I'm happy for my husband, but so bummed for me.

After Friday, things will be different. No longer will I be the primary parent with whom Kara spends most of her time. Gone will be the days of Luke walking through the door after a long day at the office and me greeting him from the living room couch, spewing happy words about the funny sounds the baby made that morning, cradling her sleeping body in my arms. No more singing "Peppermint Twist" while dancing around the apartment at eleven a.m.

It's not mommy guilt I'm suffering from; it's sadness.

I'm trying to be strong. I'm trying to get excited about shopping for work clothes and grabbing a shower before noon every day and talking to other adults again. I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I don't want Luke to feel bad (happy birthday, honey!). I know that somebody's got to work and my bond with Kara will continue to grow and eventually it'll all get easier.

But IT EFFING SUCKS, just the same.

To keep myself from drowning in a pint of Ben and Jerry's, I'm hereby announcing the official return of Tragic Love Friday, if only to have something awesomely trivial to focus on in my spare (ha!) time. It won't run every week, or even every other week right now, probably just once a month until a solid plot's been established, but no worries, because you'll have Brain Fest Friday to hold you over between installments. We'll have our first official BFF session tomorrow, so be sure to tune in. In the meantime, I'm going out on a limb and setting a TLF season premiere for...(flips through Norman Rockwell calendar) March 28. Those of you interested in being part of the writing team, please e-mail me so I can add you to my newly created Gmail group, which should allow us to swap ideas in an orderly fashion. If you don't have a Gmail account, let me know and I'll send you an invite. Also, don't stress about your literary skills or lacking soap opera background; I'll be controlling the main direction of the story and do eighty percent of the writing, anyway, but from time to time I'm sure I'll need pinch-hitters, and who better than a TLF fan?

Whew. Just thinking about the tragic possibilities makes me smile.

Edited to add: Of COURSE Kara choose this particular morning to wake up at five o'clock making the cutest sounds imaginable. But how can I be mad at this sweet little face? Does she not kill with the adorableness?

Edited to add AGAIN: Luke's V-Day present to me? A TWO-DISC collection of love songs by Phil Collins. It doesn't get any better than this, folks. (Seriously. I'm beyond giddy.)

I guess we're all two nuggets short of a six piece.

At least in the common sense department.

Can I tell you how much I loved reading about everyone's verbal shortcomings? Your stories were so awesome that I only felt the tiniest bit guilty for not updating the rest of the week. I'm thinking this pick-your-brain fest needs to become a regular feature. Ever since the season-two finale of Tragic Love Friday, I've missed giving people something to consistently look forward to, so it's fun to imagine "What're you lookin' at?" as a landing spot for shits and giggles once again.

Unless...

Speaking of TLF, I've been thinking a lot about our batshit-crazy fivesome (well, foursome really, continue to RIP, David) and how much I miss their morally questionable antics. Back when I was still pregnant and clueless about how often my chest would double as a bassinet, I had high hopes for continuing the insanity in the form of a reader-inspired, online soap opera, setting up the initial plot outline myself and soliciting excerpts from all of you. Then Kara was born, and I kind of lost touch with reality for a couple of weeks, and now I'm mentally preparing myself to go back to work, and it's already hard enough to keep things fresh around here without wondering how many of you are groaning each time I post yet another baby picture. The pressure associated with reviving TLF just might do me in. But damn, how fun would it be to give part three a go? We could even assign a role to my latest celebrity crush:

(Stacy, I know you'd approve.)

Since it wouldn't just be a matter of typing out pre-written pages, I'm not sure how much time I'll have to devote to TLF, but I really think it's a worth a try, as long as you guys are still on board and enough of you are willing to share your literary talents with me--and of course, by "literary talent" I mean "smutty love scenes (with Matthew Fox! and Jenna! yes?) and V.C. Andrews-style storylines." We could rotate Brain Fest Friday (BFF!) and Tragic Love Friday so that we all have more time to dedicate to this very important and not-at-all-fluffy writing project.

So, what say you? Are you with me? Or should we just resign to being BFFs?

On a random note (except not so random because Matthew Fox is on Lost and what I have to say is kind of related to Lost), a couple of weeks ago I was mortified to realize that my hair, which hasn't been professionally tended to since October, had grown into such a state of disarray that I am now a dead ringer for Hugo "Hurley" Reyes:

Don't believe me? See for yourself:

Is time for haircut, yes?

Luckily, there's one gal in the Frema-Useless Clutter household who looks perfect just the way she is.

Hat courtesy of the lovely Isabel.

My beautiful baby is eight weeks old today, which means Luke and I take her in at one o'clock this afternoon for her first batch of shots. I may not be the patient, but already I feel nauseous.

Tragic Love Friday: Audrey to the rescue

Hey! Remember back in August when I solicited recaps for part two? And how nobody was up for the job and I was very, very sad about the lack of TLF love?

Well, happy days are here again, because Audrey of Sangria Lover came to the gang's rescue. She actually rescued me at the beginning of the month, but I've been too busy to format her Word entry within TypePad and I was adamant about posting it on a Friday because duh, Tragic Love FRIDAY, and anyway, now it's the end of the month and I hope she forgives me.

Because her recap? Is AWESOME.

Enjoy.

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Tragic Love Friday – The Sequel

I tried to keep it short and sweet, but there was A LOT of tragic lovin' going on these last few months! I also looked back at the Part 1 recaps for inspiration and loved Silly Hily's idea of including the best commentary from each chapter so much that I went ahead and stole it. Because TLF just wouldn't be the same without the commentary. And you know what else it wouldn't be the same without? The comments! So I re-read all of the hilarious comments and copied and pasted my favorites for each chapter here as well. I felt it was important to recap every aspect that makes TLF so amazing--Lil' Frema's writing, Adult Frema's commentary, and TLF Addicts' comments.

Prologue – Kayla

Kayla, Cassie, and Kyle arrive in Cedar Springs, Iowa via plane. Their car will arrive via u-haul truck, obviously.

Kyle is the result of Kayla being gang-raped by some security guards in prison, just a month after her daughter was taken from her to live with Jenna and Michael.

Katherine is the reason they're in Cedar Springs. Kayla's dick (p.i.) located Katherine, and the Kayla-Cassie-Kyle clan have come to … spy on her?

Kayla has a new last name and a new hair color. Kay is Clark Kent to Kayla's Superman, and Michael, as we will learn, is far too stupid to see past the metaphorical eyeglasses and recognize her.

Kyle has no idea about his half-sister or the circumstances of his birth. Kayla's painted a nice picture of a family-abandoning father figure for him to admire.

Kayla hopes for a brother-sister bond between Katherine and Kyle. Be careful what you wish for, sweetie.

Best commentary: "Don't cry!" my friend said. "It'll be OK, Kay. I promise. I feel the same way you do. I'm dying to see my niece." [You'd think these women would've sworn off exaggerated death references forever. Such poor taste!]

Best comment: Pink Herring. Here comes the incest! Woohoo! It's not a real soap until a long-lost sibling pair unwittingly falls in love, forgets to use protection, and then finds out about their parentage when the chick is already knocked up.

Chapter 1 – Katherine

At school, Katherine meets Kyle and immediately develops a not-so-sisterly crush on him. The feeling is mutual. Actually, Kyle is a big flirt, and Katherine is annoyed by this. Lucky for Kyle, Katherine is asked to tutor him because he's "a little behind." They make arrangements to "study" together.

Best commentary: He seemed satisfied with my response. "Fair enough. I'm sorry if I rubbed you the wrong way today." [And that wasn't even an innuendo!]

Best comment: Isabel. My prediction is that Kyle really wasn’t asleep in the back of the car. The kid is smart, don’t forget. He totally knows what’s going on. He knows that Katherine is his (half) sister and he’s into that kind of thing.

Chapter 2 – Jenna

Jenna works as a personal assistant in advertising. For a company that "wasn't really recognized as trustworthy and worthwhile." Her boss lands the big Folger's account, so naturally she has to do all of the work. With bitch Agatha's help.

Jenna and Michael have twins--Luke and Leigh. But they want another--one to name after Michael, preferably (because Luke wasn't good enough? Or Michael and Michaela just didn't sound as good as twin names?)--but they've hit some infertility struggles and their marriage is suffering a bit as a result. The lines of communication, they are not good.

Best commentary: [OK, in my line of work, I've seen managers fired after five MONTHS of non-performance, but what can I say? Lil' Frema hates to put people out of work. Killing off innocent babies is fine, but contributing to America's poverty population is not an option. For now.]

Best comment: May. I'm glad that lil' Frema has Jenna & Mikey still in love & nice to each other, despite the pressure of 3 kids, crappy jobs, infertility, etc... I mean, haven't they been through enough? (Answer - no, we still have more sequel to go! Yay!)

Chapter 3 – Kyle

It's time to tutor. Kyle invites Katherine over then does what every girl dreams of by asking her to help him unpack when they're done studying. Swoon! Then he goes and hides in the bathroom because he has no friends. Gee, Kyle, maybe if you invited more people over for manual labor…

Incestual flirting takes place. (I'm pretty sure I made up the word Incestual. Just go with it, k?) Kyle tells Katherine that she looks just like his (their) mother. Ew.

Speak of the devil, Kay(la) comes home and is surprised to see her long-lost daughter. Aunt Cassie meets her niece. Kyle gets suspicious, but is placated with an "it's complicated, you'll understand when you're older" brush off. Katherine stays for a k-lassy frozen pizza dinner. More incestual flirting ensues, and Kay does NOTHING to stop her children from getting involved in what is quickly becoming an inappropriate relationship.

Michael comes to pick up his "daughter," and we learn that he is incredibly stupid and cannot recognize [that murdering bitch] Kay.

Kyle goes to bed but doesn't fall asleep for "a long time." My guess is he was "contemplating the trials and tribulations of his complicated existence." *wink, wink*

Best commentary: [Geez, with all that time he spent contemplating the trials and tribulations of his complicated existence, he could have just masturbated.]

Best comment: Rachel. And, I am so glad that Michael is not teaching at my kid's school! He is definitely not the brightest crayon in the box. I'm pretty sure that if I dyed my hair blond tonight, um, my face will still look the same.

Chapter 4 – Michael

Michael and Jenna visit the fertility doctor to find out (who's at fault) what the problem is. Doctor has bad news--basically it's a really really bad idea for Jenna to get pregnant again. Her body can't handle it.

Michael tries to smooth things over by suggesting a weekend getaway. Jenna's far too busy with the Folger's account to mess around with romantic nonsense.

Michael later runs into Kayla who "conveniently" has a flat tire in his school's parking lot. Even though she's a "complete stranger" to him, he gives her a ride home and pours out his heart about his failing marriage.

He comes home and his son tells him to "Get some, Dad." He probably doesn't, though, even though he and Jenna are having a rare romantic moment at the end of the chapter.

Best commentary: "I hate it when that happens," I said, and she laughed. "I can't replace your stuff or turn back time [or even put two and two together to realize you're the same woman who tried to kill my wife fifteen years ago, even though "Kay" and "Kayla" are about as different from each other as, well, "Mike" and "Michael"], but I can give you a ride home."

Best comment: Isabel. I love how the doctor is named "Peters". The 13 year old boy in me giggled when I read that. Tee-hee.

Chapter 5 – Kayla

Kayla is loving that Katherine comes home and makes out with her son every day after school. Is developing a major crush on Michael. (Chandler: Could things BE any more inappropriate?)

Michael and Kayla run into each other at the grocery store and then decide to spend the whole day together. Except instead they go see a movie that night.

Kyle is sketching Katherine. Probably nude. Kayla lets it slide.

Cassie is, for once, a voice of reason and advises Kayla not to date Michael. She is ignored completely.

Kayla dresses for an 80s-themed date, despite the fact that she is living in 1994, and all but encourages Kyle to pursue his love for his sister.

Michael picks Kayla up and both have apparently forgotten all movie plans. They go to a bar instead. And talk about how crazy Jenna is losing her shit. He notices a scar from a past suicide attempt of Kay's and then takes her to … uh… Lover's Lane? Where Kayla describes how Kyle saved her from her botched suicide attempt.

After that oh-so-romantic discussion, they start making out. Then she stops things before they go too far (for now), and he takes her home.

Best commentary: Everybody did their own thing [did their own sister]
and
but only an idiot could miss the added sparkle that I knew could be found in my eyes. [Kayla, have you met Michael Spencer?]

Best comment: David McNelis. Kay is so gonna end up boinking Michael. But then at least Michael will be able to honestly say to Katherine, "Yeah, well I porked your mom!" and not be lying in the least. Won't he be happy to get that off his chest. :)

Chapter 6 – Katherine

Kyle asked her to go to the video dance, whatever the hell that is. None of the adults stop this from happening, naturally.

Katherine gets all gussied up with her suspenders and striped pants. When snooping around to steal her mom's perfume, she stumbles upon some adoption papers but doesn't realize they are her own.

Kyle picks her up, gives her a rose, and we end the first part of TLF 2.0 with Katherine dreaming about how magical the night will be. If only she knew what was in store for her… So long, innocence! So long, sanity!

Best commentary: [Oh, Jenna and Michael, please produce more children who you can ignore and leave alone to fend for themselves, with only a pizza to console them!]

Best comment: Rachel. Don't ring loud!

Chapter 7 – Katherine

They took a cab to the dance. How romantic. They dance. They kiss. And it's great, as only a kiss between siblings can be. Or maybe I mean weird and creepy. Not great.

Then they go outside and Kyle rapes her. It's not pretty at all. Katherine is understandably angery. But at least Kyle was thoughtful enough to leave her cab fare (prostitute fee?). Which she rips to shreds in anger.

Best commentary: It was sweet and passionate and tender. [And also against God's plan!]

Best comment: Isabel. My notes do indicate that I instantly thought of Brian Astin Green's character in 90210 dancing like a FOOL when you mentioned Kyle being a good dancer. Sweet.

Chapter 8 – Jenna

Katherine is losing her shit, but nobody seems to notice.

Michael misses the special dinner Jenna makes, so the hungery twins have to eat without him. Katherine continues to lose her shit.

Michael gets home late. They fight.

She slaved over the Folger's presentation and then the bitch assistant stole her materials and so Jenna got fired. Because that's what happens in the cold, harsh world of ad agency assistant work.

Best commentary from Frema: At home, I was surprised to see Katherine was already there. [I have a daughter? Cool!]

Best commentary from Jennifer/Pink Herring: "By now, Michael, you shouldn't need my help! You should be able to understand me!" [Honestly, Michael. I don't even know why we paid for all those mind-reading classes!]

Best comment: Virginia Gal. Is it wrong of me to think that the only difference between Michael's mistress (Kay) and Jenna's (her job) is that he is getting laid and she is getting laid off?

Chapter 9 – Michael

Michael comforts Jenna after she gets canned. Then thinks how old she looks and makes her go take a nap while he goes to tell Kay that he's in love with her. And then they get it on.

Best commentary: Just last weekend we put up her Christmas tree. [Because baby Jesus loves it when adulterers come together to honor his birth with flashing lights.]

Best comment: Lizarita. You're KILLIN ME SMALLS.

Chapter 10 – Katherine

Is pregnant with her half-brother's rape baby. Jenna is flippin' burgers at Burger King.

Katherine decides to take matters into her own hands and take a bunch of her mom's anti-depressants.
Lucas is starting to be affected by the tragic drama going down around him. Katherine tries to be a good sister for a minute before going to spend the night at Shannon's house.

Best commentary: I had to pee on a stick (provided by the box, how thoughtful). [Honey, that stick is the test. Peeing on anything else just means you're weird.]

Best comment: Sant. I like how Lucas went from being raunchy hormonal to a shirt sleeve sobbing 6-year old in no time flat.

Chapter 11 – Katherine

Shannon's house is where she pops the pills to pop her baby out of her stomache. All the while she's having hallucinations of her little daughter, whom she affectionately names Katrina before blacking out. When she comes to, she finds herself in Shannon's bathroom, covered in blood and shit (quite literally). Which she proceeds to rub on her face. She feels okay, but something is still swimming around inside of her. (Excuse me while I add to the vomit in the room.)

Shannon is a saint and washes the bathroom. Three times.

Best commentary: "Kath, you were pregnant. You lost your baby." I nodded. [Um, how would Shannon know this? Katherine's only a few weeks along, and unless there was an arm or toe bopping on the surface, there'd be no way for a teenager to diagnose this as a miscarriage.]

Best comment: Molly. Beatings and vomiting and rubbing dead baby pieces on faces, oh my!

Chapter 12 – Kyle

Kayla reveals that she's pregnant. Cassie punches her. Frema celebrates the return of batshit crazy. Kayla and Cassie duke it out.

Kyle is a little freaked out that his whorish mother is pregnant. He almost feels bad about what he did to Katherine, but then talks himself out of it and convinces himself that it was her fault for being such a tease. He hates her. And also is in love with her.

Best commentary: [This is where the "Anything you can do, I can do better" part of today's title came from, because God forbid something good or bad happen to anybody without this woman jumping in with a one-upper. Jenna gets pregnant? Kayla gets pregnant AND carries the baby to term. Jenna gets married and enjoys a committed, monogamous relationship for over a decade? Kayla steals him in two weeks. Biological daughter is raped? Kayla gets knocked up by said daughter's father. Kayla wins, every time!]

Best comment: Molly. The kitchen scene with the sisters was awesome. I loved that they kept beating on each other like wild apes.

Chapter 13 – Jenna

Christmas morning starts with a good ole marital fight. Michael has huge balls; I'm not sure how he shops for pants. Jenna accuses him of having an affair. They hear the twins sobbing and find the twins, whose Christmas has been ruined forever, comforting Katherine who is having a conversation with Katrina.

Michael and Jenna start throwing punches in front of the kids. Katherine tries to intervene and gets kicked in the stomache. Her stomache "rumbles and bursts," breaking the water of her still-swimming fetus. Jenna realizes with horror that her little girl is pregnant and Michael calls the paramedics. The twins continue to be traumatized.

They get to the hospital and Michael immediately calls Kayla. Balls = huge. Michael lets it slip in front of Jenna that Kay(la) is preggers. Jenna quickly proves she is smarter than Michael (doesn't take much) and realizes that Kay is, in fact, Kayla. Kayla tries to claim Katherine as her own, but Jenna won't allow it.

The doctors deliver Katrina via c-section and it barely resembles anything human. Still, Katherine caresses her baby (better than rubbing shit on her face, at least!) and apologizes for hurting her.
Katherine has to stay at the hospital for a week, so Jenna takes her family home--except Michael, who chooses to stay with Kayla.

Best commentary: [Talking to the spirit of your dead fetus. One of those pesky side effects Planned Parenthood failed to include in their brochure.]

Best comments: (Chapter 13 was pretty long and there were too many great comments to pick just one!)

Silly Hily. Oh the irony (and confusion) here. Jenna, who's baby was killed by Kayla, kills Kayla's baby's baby. Is she going to take out Kayla's new baby as well? Can she make it two ladies and gents? We shall see.

Kathie. Because, when would be a more appropriate time to introduce your wife and your mistress than when your daughter was in hospital having a miscarriage that isn't entirely not your own fault? It's like Michael thought "Hey, I'm up shit creek without a paddle here, I might as well get it all over with at once...". The man either has ginormous balls, or is clearly insane. Or both.

Isabel. Dr. Frema, will you deliver my next child? You've got mad medical skillz.

Chapter 14 – Kyle

He is reeling from everything he's learned. He raped his sister. Aunt Cassie isn't his aunt. His mom's gettin' it on with Katherine's dad.

Kayla tries to explain. She sums up TLF part 1--baby killing, baby-daddy killing, prison rape, and all.
Kyle admits to raping his sister. Naturally, Kalya understands and, a rape victim herself, isn't mad that her son is a rapist.

Best commentary: [You'd think the fact that she was pregnant herself would have caused her to show more remorse for killing an innocent life that hadn't even been born yet, but no, she still mourns the jackass who couldn't keep his dick in his pants.] [I'm sorry, David, I didn't mean it. Love you! Mean it! RIP!]
and
[But you're still grounded! No sex for a week.]

Best comment: Angela. Kyle: Momma, the thing is... I raped my sister, just like what happened to you, I'm so sorreeeeee! Kayla: Oh, it's okay sweetie, that doesn't shock or horrify me as a former rape victim whatsoever, let's go eat cookies and sing kumbaya!

Chapter 15 – Kayla

Kayla pays a visit to the Spencers. Completely ignores Jenna. Has a chat with Michael--he's pissed about the betrayal and stuff.

She's making her rounds, so she heads to the hospital next. Katherine apparently can't get a nurse to keep her clean, as she's lying in a pool of blood in her hospital bed. And she's pissed at Kayla, too. Abandonment issues and all that.

Best commentary: He filled up a part of me [snicker] I thought I'd closed off."

Best comment: Silly Hily. "Grow up...not everything revolves around you." ???? Oh no bitch didn't!

Chapter 16 – Cassie

She and Kyle have a little heart-to-heart in which Cassie earns zero character development. They mostly talk about how upset and hurt Kayla must be feeling.

Best commentary: "He hit her?" Kyle looked angery. [Really. Forcing a woman into sex and impregnating her with your child is one thing, but slapping one is quite another!]

Best comment: Virginia Gal. Kyle: "If I had known Katherine was my SISTER..." Though I do feel better that he's sorry because Katherine was his sister, does that mean he wouldn't have been sorry if he'd done that to another girl?

Chapter 17 – Michael

Katherine comes home on Frema's birthday and promptly demands to see her adoption papers and photos of her parents. Michael despairs about how much weaker than Kay(la) his wife is. (Bastard.) Then he realizes that he's in love with both Kayla and Kay--all of her. He immediately tells Jenna. The entire Spencer family goes to pay Kayla a visit.

Best commentary: [Michael, you sonofabitch. A woman forced to bear the brunt of her HORRENDOUS mistakes, at least two of them made at the expense of YOUR OWN DAMN WIFE, hardly makes her admirable.]

Best comment: TasterSpoon. Poor Jenna. First the Folger's presentation, now this.

Chapter 18 – Katherine

On the way to Kayla's, she goes through a roller coaster of emotions but ultimately forgives Kayla and Kyle. No commentary.

Best comment: Fraulein N. Has Katherine been taken over by a pod person?

Chapter 19 – Kayla

Kayla is spiraling into deep depression. She's alone at the house. She grabs some pictures and goes to the garage, which she drenches in gasoline. She gets in her car, puts some Beethoven on the radio, and tosses a match out the car window.

Best commentary: "God, bless them and keep them safe," I whispered, closing my eyes. "I can't do it anymore." [Especially now that you're going to burn in Hell.]

Best comment: Silly Hily. And poor Jenna. She's still left all alone. Kayla not only kills her baby and her baby daddy and then takes her husband away from her but then she goes and kills herself as to get to David first. So, now she's got first dibbs on him, too.

Chapter 20 – Kyle

Sees the flame in the distance and runs to his mom's side. Kayla has passed out (and probably already died) due to inhaling too much smoke. He starts to try to save her but then remembers when he saved her from her botched suicide attempt when he was only 11. He "had saved her from death, only to let her go through more pain."

He apologizes and promises that he won't let her go to heaven alone, then joins her in the car.

Best commentary: "I won't leave you go to Heaven alone." [Oh, Kyle. You'll have to set your sights a wee bit lower. Maybe Purgatory will have you.]

Best comment: Isabel. When I just had to verify my comment, the code was "Kye". I think it was Kyle contacting me from the dead.

Chapter 21 – Cassie

At Kayla and Kyle's funeral, she recalls the scene when she arrived at the burning house. An officer starts to tell her about "the corpses," but Michael insists that she hear the news from him.
When the Spencers arrive, Jenna runs to get help while Michael stays and makes sure the twins witness the whole traumatic scene.

Back at the funeral, Cassie pays her respects. And maybe makes me cry a little. Then she and Katherine walk away from the graves, hand in hand.

Best commentary: We stayed behind until all the others were gone [what others? Her gang rapists?].

Best comment: Pink Herring. The bodies were burnt beyond recognition? No mention of compared dental records? FAKED DEATH!!

Chapter 22 – Jenna
4 years later

Jenna and Michael divorced but managed to stay friends.

Cassie's mom got AIDS from being a slut early in life, so Cassie and Katherine moved to Illinois to take care of her.

The twins are 16; Lucas is failing in school but excelling at painting creepy portraits of Katherine. Leigh has completely dropped out of school and dates a lot of worrisome boys. Stellar parenting, Jenna.

Michael comes over for dinner. The end.

Best commentary: I could see she was unhappy, so I didn't make her go, which didn't go over well with Michael. [Seeing as he's a FUCKING TEACHER, I would guess that no, Mikey wasn't jumping for joy at that.]

Best comment: Silly Hily. Can I just say that I was so hoping there would be a BIG twist, like her "visitor" in the end being David or something. What? People come back from the dead all the effin' time on Soaps.

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How are you guys doing without a weekly dose of TLF in your life? Are you adjusting or drumming your fingers impatiently for part three? Be honest. I can take it.

Maybe.

Tragic Love Friday: I'm so glad we had this time together

Before I proceed with killing a Friday tradition many of us have grown to love, let me first say that last night's class went well. I accomplished everything on my to-do list and was able to fill up all but forty minutes of the two-and-a-half-hour session, which pleased me immensely because my primary fear was running out of material. And really, who doesn't expect the first day of an undergraduate class to let out early?

One down, twelve more to go.

This week has been so insanely busy that I'm not sure I'm in the right frame of mind to give TLF the send-off it deserves. I can't stop thinking about the Web site I need to update for work and the two entries I have to write for Parents.com sometime between now and 11:59 p.m. Saturday night. But know that I am so, so sad about its conclusion, because what good will Friday be without a serving of tragic love?

To keep things fair, I'd like to do the same thing for the sequel that I did for part one: hold a reader contest to determine who can produce the best summary. There will be a prize, but it won't be a 90210 box set because Geez Louise, didn't you hear I'm having a baby in December? Part Two soundtracks for everyone!

Be sure to send in your submission by Friday morning so I can post them later that day.

Under the circumstances, I don't think it's inappropriate of me to beg all TLF readers to post a comment today, if not for me, then for lil' Frema. God, she would've loved this.

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CHAPTER NINETEEN - KAYLA

I had failed. Michael hated me, Katherine couldn't stand me; Jenna was terribly bitter towards me. And I had ruined Kyle's life, and dragged Cassie into my plans, eliminating her chances at having love, a family, happiness. All those wrongdoings rested upon me; I blamed no one but myself.

The emptiness I felt engulfed me like the tide. I was lonely. I was also a burden to those around me. And I was going to subject another innocent child into all of this?

[Chin up, Kayla. The sun'll come out tomorrow. It's only a day away.]

Cassie was out at work, and Kyle had taken off, not saying when he'd be back. I came out of my room slowly and observed my house. I gazed at the pictures on the walls, and took the family portrait of Cassie, Kyle, and me. Then I went back to my room and searched through old photo albums until I found the pictures I needed. Clutching them all to my chest, I exited the house. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the snow had melted away. The air was crisp, and deeply I inhaled it, not wanting to lose the moment in which I finally felt peaceful.

Our garage was extremely messy and cluttered, but I finally located the gasoline. I poured it in the corners and around my car. I made sure the garage was sealed shut and locked. Then I made myself comfortable in my car, arranging my pictures by the window. When I found my book of matches, I gave it a gentle kiss. I couldn't stop smiling. I was free! I was whatever I chose to be!

[Apparently Kayla's court-appointed stint in therapy was NOT LONG ENOUGH.]

I turned on the radio, and Beethoven delighted my ears. I struck the match and threw it out through my door window. It landed in a corner, and a flame appeared. I thought of my children, Cassie, Jenna, Michael. "God, bless them and keep them safe," I whispered, closing my eyes. "I can't do it anymore."

[Especially now that you're going to burn in Hell.]

CHAPTER TWENTY - KYLE

As I walked along the dirt road, I saw a flicker of red-orange, not too far off. "Oh, God," I whispered, my insides turning cold. "Mom!" I broke into a run. "Auntie! Momma!"

[OK, hate the boy all you want, but even he doesn't deserve to watch his only parent go up in flames. Why couldn't Kayla just fake her own death via a horrible car accident in Switzerland like Dixie did on All My Children?]

I was there in a matter of minutes, fumbling through the smoke in the garage. The door had been turned to ashes. It took me forever to bump into the car. I couldn't see, and I felt a little dizzy. I yanked on the door and hurried inside.

Mom was sprawled out over the front seat, and if I didn't know better, I'd think she was sleeping. But she wasn't breathing.

"Momma!" I screamed, and screamed again when I saw how close the flames were to the door. The smoke was terrible. I slammed the door, then lifted up my mother's frame, checking for any signs of life. Nothing. "Get up, Momma! Mom, come on!" I yelled, slapping her cheeks and shaking her. "Please!"

[Of course his first reaction would be to physically abuse his mother. You'd think he was Michael's kid!]

Common sense was telling me to drag her out of the car; there was still a chance... Instead, though, I gazed at her pictures. There was our family portrait. Along with it was her and my d--- I mean, Katherine's dad's dance picture, the one Katherine had noticed the first day she came over; one of her and Jenna, arm in arm and laughing; a picture of a baby girl: I knew it was Katherine, my only true love. Michael was by himself, smiling shyly at the camera. He looked very young.

I caressed my momma's face and saw the serenity captured in its expression. I thought back to when I was 11 years old, when I found her like this, only then she was sprawled on the bathroom floor, and blood was pumping out of a huge gash on her wrist. I had saved her from death, only to let her go through more pain. Only to let her try again.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed, then went into a coughing fit. I knew what I had to do.

I laid Momma on me, cradeling her in my arms. "I love you, Momma," I told her, knowing somewhere she could hear me. "I'm sorry I saved you before, and for all your troubles. Hold on. I won't leave you go to Heaven alone."

[Oh, Kyle. You'll have to set your sights a wee bit lower. Maybe Purgatory will have you.]

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - CASSIE

"As we lay down to rest Kayla Evans Hart and Kyle Hart, let us rejoice in their newfound happiness with God, and know that they will no longer suffer in his hands. Amen."

"Amen," I echoed, and shut my eyes as my best friend and her son were lowered into the ground, far below where sunlight could never reach them again. Right then I felt my heart break again. Jenna looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and held my hand. My mind flashed back to four days before today, when I'd found them....

On the drive home I'd seen fire trucks and police cars fly past me, sirens flashing. When I finally saw the orangey-red flames leaping off the garage and house, I pulled over and ran the rest of the way.

[Because that's faster?]

The garage had been completely destroyed, the house well on its way, but the firemen were getting it under control. I saw the ambulances, and two gurneys holding two people. White sheets covered them; or at least, they used to be white.

"OH MY GOD!!!" I screamed and fell to my knees. I dug my nails into my head.

[Is it wrong that this image makes me laugh?]

The police hurried to me, a mob of people following them. Michael, Jenna, Katherine, the twins.

"Cassie Donovan?" an officer asked kindly. I grabbed his collar. "Tell me they're OK! What the hell happened?" I shouted between sobs.

"Apparently, somebody doused the garage with gasoline, causing the scene you see here," he said, and I let go. "The corpses--"

The young officer checked his sheet, but Michael said, "no. She'll hear it from us." His eyes were bloodshot; his hair smelled of smoke. He knelt with me. "I'm sorry, Cassie honey," he choked, his eyes filling fast. "It was Kayla and Kyle. They said the bodies were burnt beyond recognition, so they won't say officially yet, but--it's them. Kyle had Kay in his arms--my Kayla--"

I look past this sobbing man towards Jenna and Katherine. Jenna looked as bad as Michael. "We came and found it like this," she whispered brokenly. "Mike tried to run in, but the flames--he stayed with the kids and I got help. They're gone, Cas. It's true."

[I'm sure the twins weren't at all traumatized at being left to watch their father's mistress and sister's biological brother meet the Grim Reaper. Smooth move, Spencers!]

"Oh, God," I wailed. My body couldn't keep it up, the uncontrollable crying hiccups that punctuated every sound. I'd lost the last of my family; no one else was left, except...

Katherine met my eyes briefly, and their spark was gone. Her face was streaked with tears. Her fists clutched tightly two photos. "They--they're with my baby girl," she told me, her voice wistful and heartbroken, but also relieved. "My parents, brother and daughter--my family is together. They'll be OK, I think." She started to cry. "Right, Auntie?"

I got up and hugged her fiercely as we sobbed on each other's shoulders. "Yes, baby, they will. Our family is together."

* * *

After the funeral, we all gathered outside. The twins seemed restless, which was understandable; they really had no bonds with Kayla and Kyle. Since the fire had destroyed practically everything, I was staying with Jenna and Michael.

[Selfish Kayla, too busy killing herself to remember that insurance companies don't pay out for suicides.]

We stayed behind until all the others were gone [what others? Her gang rapists?], and it was just us. Then each one of us went to pay our own (private) last respects. Michael was first, and when he was through, he kept his head down and hurried to the car. Jenna went next, then Katherine, finally me. I went over to their joined tombstones. In the corner of my eye, I saw everyone was in the car except my niece, who was waiting for me several feet away.

"Hi, guys," I said softly, gazing at their graves. "I have a few things to say to both of you. You first, Kay. I'm a little angery at you, I'll admit that. How could you do this, when you knew Kyle and I needed you? You took Kyle, too, and that pain is so deep in my heart." I held back a sob. "I know it wasn't easy for you, but-- You left me alone, and I've never been alone before. David protected me 'til the accident, and then it was you, and Kyle, too. Thank you for that. I truely think of, and will always love you as my sister, as well as my best friend."

[Notice she didn't say "gay lover," so there goes your lesbian theory. Nice try, guys.]

"Kyle. I really loved being your auntie; you made it so easy. I couldn't have been as happy as I was if you weren't around. You left me too, but I can figure out why, and I don't mind. Your mother came first, the way it was supposed to be. You made her real proud, and made me feel special. I was a somebody when I was your auntie." I sighed heavily and wiped my eyes. "Good-bye my angels. Remind my brother that his bitchy sister loves him, and to send some prayers my way."

I stepped away, and Katherine was instantly at my side. We stared at the graves. "I loved them both," she whispered. "I miss them so much."

"Me, too."

"I'm glad you're here, Auntie. I love you."

"I love you, too," I answered. Hand in hand, we walked to the car, our bond growing stronger with each step. I stared up at the sky. Thank you, I mouthed. Thank you for hearing me so soon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - JENNA
~ FOUR YEARS LATER~

The sky was a magnificent mixture of pink, blue and purple, as the sun started to set. The rolling hills and flat lands were a lush green. It was a breathtaking sight, and I was reluctant to leave my chair on the front porch, but I had to. I was expecting someone for supper.

[Lil' Frema sure was a fan of adjectives!]

I stood up and thought about time; it can do so much with so little. [?] I was now 38; I found my first grey hair this morning. It makes me feel old.

Michael and I divorced; it was hurtful, and it tore us both apart, but it had to be done. Kayla was his love, and by her death he'd been devastated, not to mention his grief over the child she was expecting. There were no hard feelings, and we kept in contact, but... It hurts me still to wake up and not have him beside me. No more anniversaries to celebrate, no loving words to whisper to each other. My best friend-turned-lover has gone back to being my friend. And we thought we'd last forever. Only forever lasts.

[Cheesy cliches aside, the idea of anybody's marriage breaking up makes me want to cry, especially now that I'm married myself. Can't they try just a little bit harder? Can't they give just a little bit more? Can't they try to understand it's love they're fighting for?]

I don't see Cassie and Katherine too much anymore. A couple of years ago Cassie got a surprise call from her mother. She developed AIDS, probably from being so loose and carefree with men when Cassie and David were teenagers. [Yeah, Jenna, it was "probably" that. The next Nancy Drew, ladies and gentlemen.] So Cassie moved back to Illinois to take care of her, and Katherine went with her.

"Mother," she'd told me when she had said good-bye to me, "She needs me in a way no one else does, and she understands me better than anybody else. We belong to each other now." I had known what she'd meant, and it cut like a knife, but I let her go. She was only 17 at the time.

Lucas and Leigh are 16 and live with me. Lucas isn't very good in school; it doesn't interest him. He mostly stays at home reading. Recently he took to painting. His first work was a beautifully done portrait of Katherine, and it hangs on our living room for all to see.

[Um, can we say "creepy"?]

If Lucas does bad in school, then Leigh is terrible. She dropped out, as a matter of fact, a couple of months ago. I could see she was unhappy, so I didn't make her go, which didn't go over well with Michael.

[Seeing as he's a FUCKING TEACHER, I would guess that no, Mikey wasn't jumping for joy at that.]

She's not a bad child, but a lonely one, who didn't get enough attention from her family. She wasn't the boy or the oldest, so she got the short end of the stick. That was my and Michael's fault.

[Sweetie, Lucas didn't turn out so well, either. Both of your biological children were shafted.]

She's beautiful, and goes out on a lot of dates. I worry when I see some of the boys she brings home, but I never stop her. They are the only ones who can make my Leigh smile.

[Imagine how ecstatic she'll be when taking her first pregnancy test!]

Sometimes I try to think back to when I was young, but the memories are distant and that makes it hard. I visit Kayla's grave on her birthday and every holiday, and whenever I need to talk to her. If only she were with me; I'd have so much to tell her. [Like "step off my husband, bitch!"] I even visit David and Mary Katherine's graves when I go see Cassie and Katherine, because they're family, too.

I shook my head and gazed at the sunset one more time before I went inside. I cleaned and then cooked dinner, spagetti with garlic bread. I set the table and stood by the screen door to wait for my visitor.

I spotted him on the road a short time later. His black hair shone, his eyes twinkled and his face broke into a smile when he saw me. I waved. he picked up his pace, and I met up with him in front of my house.

"You're late," I commented.

Michael laughed. "I know and I'm sorry." He shrugged and said, "Work. Nothing I could do." He kissed my cheek and offered his hand, just like he had so many times before [except when he wanted to leave you for his pregnant mistress]. I accepted, and together we walked up the steps. I smiled. I was never alone.

THE END

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Final thoughts:

I don't think Kayla was Michael's true love. He and Jenna belong together, just like Ross and Rachel. I really wish lil' Frema had written scenes with Michael and Jenna at Kayla's tombstone, because hot damn, those would have been good. I like the new relationship between Cassie and Katherine, though I'm not crazy about Katherine leaving her "old" family behind. I hate what happened to the twins and think both Jenna and Michael need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and RAISE THOSE CHILDREN before it's too late. Which it kind of is already, but still.

See all the loose ends we can tie up in part three?

Thanks, everyone, for indulging me all these Fridays. I really AM so glad we had this time together. And TLF?

See you in 2008!

Tragic Love Friday: The end is near

There are fifteen pages left in lil' Frema's notebook, and the way the action breaks up, I'm pretty sure next week we'll all be crying into our hankerchiefs at the conclusion of TLF. I have mixed feelings about this; a part of me is relieved to finally scrape something off my already-overwhelming plate, while the other will miss the excitement that always came with posting a new installment, refreshing my site for comments, and trying to rationalize the batshit-crazy actions of my characters, all of whom I love, despite their flaws. Yes, even asshole Michael.

Anyway, brace yourselves, is all I'm saying.

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN - CASSIE

For the next few days, Kayla locked herself in her room, coming out only when Kyle and I weren't around, which wasn't often. When she had come back on Christmas, she didn't say anything. She'd looked devastated and defeated.

"I miss my mom," Kyle said. The two of us were cuddled up on the couch, wrapped in bundles of blankets and watching reruns of "Welcome Back, Kotter."

[Don't ask why lil' Frema settled on this particular show. She never watched an episode a day in her life.]

"I know you do, babe. So do I. But we have to let her work this out on her own. She'll come to us when she's ready."

"What do you think happened to make her like this?" he asked. I thought for a moment, deciding how much he should know. Then it hit me: everything.

[So dramatic!]

"Well, she didn't tell me, but I think Michael wasn't treating her nicely."

"He hit her?" Kyle looked angery.

[Really. Forcing a woman into sex and impregnating her with your child is one thing, but slapping one is quite another!]

"No, sweetie," I assured him quickly. "I mean I think they broke up because of your mom lying to him. She also might've gone to see Katherine. Maybe both."

"Oh."

"Kyle, what are your thoughts on all of this?" I asked gently.

He sighed. "I'm not sure yet. I mean, I know my mom went through a lot, especially to have me, and I love her for that. But she killed people. And she lied. A lot. If I had known Katherine was my SISTER..." His voice trailed off, and he looked at me with sad eyes. "Kath already hates me. Now she'll be too embarrassed to even come near me."

"How do you feel about the baby, Kyle?"

He gave me a stricken look. "I don't want to talk about the baby, OK? Not ever."

"OK." I hugged his trembling body. "I'm sorry I mentioned it. And don't worry about your mom. She'll be fine." But for some reason, I wasn't believing my own words.

[It's obvious lil' Frema narrated this chapter in Cassie's voice strictly to move the plot along and not to actually, I don't know, DEVELOP her character. If I had it to do over, I would try to give her a more significant presence in the story. Has her cherry even been popped yet? Who's to say?]

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - MICHAEL

We were able to bring Katherine home on January 9. [My birthday, thank you very much for the well wishes.] I picked her up and took her home, where Jenna and the kids were there to welcome her.

She walked slowly through the house as through she'd never set foot in it before. Lucas went to her and hugged her tight. She smiled weakly while we all did the same.

"We're all glad you're home, Kath," Jenna said softly. "We missed you like crazy."

"Thanks." Then she said something that blew us away. "I want my adoption papers, and pictures of my parents," she said flatly. Jenna went to say something, but Kath cut her off, looking at her straight in the eye and added, "you owe me at least that much."

"No!" Lucas cried. "I thought you liked being my sister." Leigh had tears running down her cheeks. "Are you gonna live with that woman now?" she asked fearfully.

[Because Jenna would LOVE that.]

Kath shook her head. "I love you both, just like I always have. But some things are different now."

I went and fetched the shoe box that contained all of Kath's adoption papers and old photos. I gave them to her wordlessly. The twins left the room crying. Jenna's face crumbled, and she started to shake. She was so weak. Not like Kayla, who carried the world on her shoulders. I mean, Kay.

[Michael, you sonofabitch. A woman forced to bear the brunt of her HORRENDOUS mistakes, at least two of them made at the expense of YOUR OWN DAMN WIFE, hardly makes her admirable.]

Kath's expression was blank as she read through the papers. It was when she got ahold of the pictures that caused her emotions to show. One of the pictures was a group shot, before Kay and David--that is, KayLA and David--had broken up. David had his arms wrapped around her neck, and she was holding his hands. Cassie was giving the finger [poor Cassie, she really is the Jo of Melrose Place], and Jenna was giving me bunny ears while I had my eyes crossed. We were all smiling. "Is that--" Kath pointed to David hesitantly. "Yes, sweetie. That's David, your father," Jenna answered, her voice trembling.

"He was very handsome," Katherine said softly. Her tone was wistful. Jenna smiled. "Yes, he was."

My daughter smiled, too. "Kyle looks so much like Kay. Look at her hair." Her smiled faded. "And me. I look like--my mom." Her chin trembled. "My momma. She loved me?"

"Very much," I replied, smoothing her hair. "Your momma's a strong woman, but she can only take so much. Kay--I mean, Kayla was...is..."

"They're the same person." I heard her whisper in my mind. And they were.

So which one did I fall in love with?

All of her.

"I do love her," I said aloud, and I knew in my heart it was true. I turned to Jenna. "I'm sorry." She nodded. "I knew that you did, in here," she replied, pointing to her skull. "But I couldn't accept it, in here." She clenched a fist over her heart. "Go to her. She needs you."

[Who's the weak one now, ass wipe?]

[Also, sob.]

"I love you," I whispered fiercely and held her tight. "Thank you a million times over."

"I know you do," she whispered back. "Don't forget me too soon."

[Dammit, there are tears in my eyes. Thank you, hormones.]

"Never," I promised. We pulled apart, and I saw my reflection in her tears, just as I know she saw hers in mine.

"Dad, can you take me, too?" Katherine asked, sobbing, clutching the group picture along with another one. It had been taken when Kayla was in jail, and Kath was almost a year. She gazed at it as if it hypmotized her.

"Yes." I offered my hand to my wife. "Come with us." Jenna shook her head. "She doesn't need me anymore." I didn't take back my hand until it was attached to hers. We got the twins and got into the car. It was a long drive to Kayla's.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - KATHERINE

As we drove my stomache churned. My head pounded, and I couldn't breathe easily. I wanted so much to apologize to my mother, to hug her and say, Yes! Let's be friends, always! And I wanted so much to see Kyle. I wanted to hold him tightly and start over. I'd always love him in that way. Blood wouldn't change my feelings, just how I handled them. Maybe one day we could talk like brother and sister, and about our Katrina.  For now, though, I just wanted us to look into each other's eyes and know that we're forgiven. I hoped it wasn't too late.

-------

I know what you're thinking. Yes, yes, it's all coming together way too neatly, why in the hell would Jenna want to befriend Kayla now, why is Katherine suddenly so eager to forgive her rapist brother, why is Michael willing to trade in his marriage to a woman he loved so deeply for so many years for one who betrayed so many of his loved ones?

I don't know. I'm still wondering if Cassie's lost her virginity.

Tragic Love Friday: Poor, poor, pitiful Kayla

My sincerest apologies for flaking out on last week's TLF. I don't think today's segment is juicy enough to make up for it, but since there's only twenty-two pages left of the sequel, believe me, the action is on its way. I can probably squeeze out three entries after this one, which means we should wrap things up by the end of the month.

In related news, I've made a decision regarding part three; if you guys are up for it, I'd like to give it a whirl and see what happens. However, this fall is going to be super-busy for me, too busy to nurture another new undertaking, so I don't know when it's going to start. The New Year, maybe? Much will depend on how Luke and I are adjusting to life with Freka. In the meantime, having some time to mull over possible storylines will be good for all of us, I think, and if we experience a change of heart and realize we're all over the whole TLF thing, we can scrap it with no hard feelings.

That said, let's watch Kayla make an ass out of herself, shall we?

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN - KAYLA

The rest of the afternoon, Cassie, Kyle, and I talked about everything. The past, the future, the baby.... I thought my son would be furious with me, but he handled it all with astounding maturity and understanding.

[This reminds me: it seems like a few of you were upset about the lack of violence and/or bloodshed in Kayla's big reveal. What can I say? Lil' Frema loves a good mother/son bonding session. Maybe you guys could take a page from her book and celebrate the reunion of a fractured family instead of rooting for its demise. Heartless bastards.]

We were sitting around our little tree eating ice cream when he asked about Michael. "Is he gonna leave Jenna, now that he knows?" he asked softly. I closed my eyes and Michael's image was conjured. I felt Cassie grab my hand.

"I don't know, sweetie. With Kath in the hospital, he might not."

"Does - does she know about you and me?" He swallowed hard, and I could only imagine his pain. It was not going to be easy for him.

"She might not," I replied, "but she's going to have to, soon."

"I'm tired," Kyle commented suddenly. "I'm going to bed." I checked the clock. Six-thirty.

I hugged him tight; Cassie did the same. Her eyes followed his slouched frame. "He's such a good boy, Kayla."

"I nodded. "I know."

[And I know how much ya'll hate him, so go ahead and let it rip, but if you had the proverbial carpet ripped out from under you on Christmas Day, you'd probably sing your rapist boy's praises, too, is all I'm saying.]

I sighed and raised my eyes to the ceiling. "God, Cas. I lost my granddaughter this Christmas. How can my kids face each other now? Will Kath accept me? Will Michael?"

"I don't know. They can't ignore you for long. And Kay." Cassie's voice became gentle. "As much as it hurts, you can't keep referring to Katherine as your daughter. She is, technically, but she only knows Jenna as her mom. Be careful not to offend either one. Although I think it's too late as far as Jenna's concerned."

"I agree. She hates me more than ever. But what can I do? Kath needs to know about me, and you, and Mike needs me now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Cassie--" I fought back tears. "I need him too. I don't know if I can be by myself anymore. He filled up a part of me [snicker] I thought I'd closed off."

"And what are we, chopped liver? You'll never be alone. Kyle and I love you like crazy."

I smiled wistfully. "Thanks, hon, but you know it's not the same."

[I hate when women refer to each other as "honey" or "sweetie." I think it's condescending. In case you care.]

"I know it's not. You don't see me with somebody, do you? That's how it's always been, always gonna be. I've accepted it, though. Maybe that's your only option." I shook my head, not wanting to believe her. "I have to try."

[In other words, Cassie, Kayla would rather rot in Shady Pines then become your Golden Girl partner-in-crime.]

For a while there was quiet. I finally stood up. "I have to go to him." My friend didn't scold or discourage me, just extended her hand. "I'm here if you need to grab onto something." I held it and gave it a squeeze. Then I walked out the door.

[And if you threw a party and invited everyone you knew, you would see the biggest gift would be from me, and the card attached would say...]

* * *

As I rang the Spencers' doorbell, I had no idea what to expect. Would I be welcomed or cast aside?

A girl with blondish-brown hair answered the door. Leigh, I realized. She looked at me first with shock, then disgust. "You want my Dad, don't you." The statement made me blush. "Please?"

"C'mon." She led me through a sunny kitchen and into their living room. Jenna was there, looking through papers. Michael just sat on the couch, looking angery.

"Daddy, THAT WOMAN is here." Both of their heads snapped up as Leigh shot me a dirty look and slammed into me as she walked past me and out of the room.

"What the hell do you want?" Jenna snapped sharply. "Haven't you done enough for one day?"

"How's Katherine doing?" I asked Michael, ignoring her.

[Bitch has some nerve showing up unannounced and then not even granting Jenna the courtesy of acknowledging her present. If I were Jen, Kayla's face would've already been kissing the carpet, pregnant or not.]

"She'll be OK; she has to stay in the hospital a while longer," he replied somewhat stiffly. I could tell he was looking me over, searching for a clue that would prove I was not Kay, just Kayla.

"Let's talk," I said. He nodded and glanced at Jenna, who caught his eye. "Don't worry about me; have a ball," she said snidely.

"Grow up," I couldn't help saying. "Not everything revolves around you."

[Insert your own snark here, because seriously.]

"Let's go." I followed Michael outside. "We'll take your car," he added. "Jenna might need ours."

"Whatever." We got in. "Where are we going?" I asked, gripping the wheel tightly.

"I don't care." In silence I drove, and he didn't contribute a word until I came to a stop. "Why did you pick here?" It was the field we had come to on our first date. It was covered in snow.

"No reason." I looked him straight in the eye. "You first."

[Coward!]

"Fine. Why didn't you tell me who you were? How could you do something like this?"

"I couldn't tell you. Nobody was supposed to find out. I just wanted my kids to be together."

"Well, together they certainly are," Mike said sarcastically.

"It's not my fault!"

"Do you think I care? You lied to me! I don't even know who I'm talking to--Kayla or Kay."

I was hurt. "They're the same person. I haven't changed."

[That's true. Selfish? Check. Delusions of self-entitlement? Check. Producing illegimitate children with emotionally unavailable men? Hell to the check.]

"You have in my eyes. To think I loved you! I bet that baby isn't even mine."

[Way to hit your mistress where it hurts, Mikey!]

I slapped him hard. "Get out!" I screamed. He obeyed. "Go to hell, Kayla!" He shouted. I gunned the engine and drove like mad. You'll be OK, you'll be OK, I told myself. Breathe, breathe, get control, don't think about it. I didn't cry as I drove to St. Mary Magdalene's Hospital. I went to the information desk and was relieved to learn Katherine was given a room out of emergency, and she could receive visitors. My hands were clammy as I took the elevator to the third floor and located room 324. I knocked softly and opened the door.

Katherine was in the bed closest to the door. She had an IV dripping into her arm, and blood below the waist of her hospital gown. Her hair looked dull and stringy; her head was turned to the wall.

"Katherine, it's Kay." She moved her head and stared at me but said nothing.

"How are you feelin', sweetie?" I asked tenderly. She gazed at her bloody gown. "Not well," she admitted. Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Why are you here?" Her tone was edgy.

"You know, don't you," I stated. She nodded. "We have nothing to say to each other. Don't slam the door on your way out."

I was stunned. "What did they tell you?"

"The truth." She looked so fragile, and hurt. "You killed my sister and my father. Then you hurt my mother even more and chased after my dad. You broke up my family." Her eyes filled with tears. "You let me be with Kyle when all along you knew--you knew he was my brother! Then he raped me, and I was left with a baby! I had no other choice!"

"You did!" I whispered. "You could have come to me! I would've helped you!"

"Never!"

"I know I lied, and I'm sorry. I did the best I could."

"Bullshit!"

"Listen to me!" I grabbed her arm [hopefully not the one with the IV in it], and she was too weak to pull away. "I did everything I did because I loved you. I always have. I was no good to you. Jenna and Michael are wonderful to you and love you as their own. It hurt me, but it's been better for you this way."

"Do you think I care? You've ruined my life in just a couple of months! The past doesn't matter to me!" But I looked into her eyes and saw that it did. "How could you keep Kyle and just leave me be?" she blurted.

"Oh, baby, I--"

"Shut up! I don't need you, I'll be fine with the family I've got. Just go away!"

She was shaking uncontrollably, and I released my hold on her. "Please understand what I've gone through to get to this moment with you. I need you in my life," I begged.

"I don't give a damn. Go to hell."

That was the second time that phrase had been thrown in my face. I fled from the room.

-------

If there was any chapter I could rewrite in the sequel, my first choice would be the one with the rape. But this one's definitely second, because lil' Frema really missed some great opportunities for stellar dialogue. Especially since it's the last time that Jenna, Michael, and Kayla will ever be in the same room alive.

Dun dun dun!

Why don't you pick one of the confrontations and give it your own spin in the comments? I can't wait to see what everyone comes up with.

Tragic Love Friday: Let the healing begin

If you're reading this post on Friday afternoon sometime after 10:00 a.m. EST, then it looks like TypePad's "Publish On" feature has done its job, because right now I'm not behind a computer at all, but instead finishing up one of my track sessions at BlogHer and probably thinking about lunch, because my God, does this baby get hungry a lot.

Anyway, I'm actually typing this on Thursday morning, at a time when I really should be thinking about the last of my three posts for Parents.com, but it's much easier to type from a notebook than produce original material, so you guys win.

-------

CHAPTER FOURTEEN - KYLE

The car ride home was extremely tense. I was torn up inside. First I find out that Katherine was pregnant, then her mother says that Aunt Cassie really isn't my aunt, and finally I realize that my own mother's fooling around with Katherine's dad. I was angery. Nobody was saying a word.

When Mom pulled into the driveway, I jumped out of the car and hurried inside, using my key. I slammed the door in her face and ran to my room, where I locked the door.

"Kyle Hart, open this door right now!"

I ignored her and curled up on my bed.

"I know I'm the last person you want to talk to, but we DO need to talk."

"About what?" I shouted. "My SISTER or your LOVER?"

[Judging by the flippant way he mentioned his newfound connection to his rape victim/love interest, Kyle must not understand the implications of his updated family tree yet. Why else would he be more focused on his mother's affair?] 

"Both." She sounded tired. "If saying I'm sorry could change everything, I'd say it a million times until I turned blue in the face. But it won't. It's time you knew the truth."

"Go ahead, then."

I"m not going to pour my heart out to a slab of wood."

I got up slowly and unlocked the door. She made herself comfortable in a spot next to the doorway and motioned me to join her. I shook my head and sat down again on my bed.

[I like to compare this part of the story to those transitioning segues in video games; you know, like when after you've beaten a particularly difficult level and Nintendo gives your brain a bit of a break by entertaining you with cheesy synthesizer music and backstory about whatever world it is you're fighting in. I'm specifically thinking of the original system's Ninja Gaiden, where in between levels, you learn more about the demonic statues Rayu is trying to find and destroy.]

As for our riveting tune of choice for this heartfelt mother-and-son scene? How about Tori Amos's "Professional Widow"? Could you GET more creepy?]

"Katherine's mom--Jenna--used to be my best friend in high school. We did everything together. She didn't have much of a family, so she became a part of mine. She helped me in a lot of ways." Mom had a far-away look in her eyes, and her smile was somewhat wistful; I knew she wasn't Kay, a grown woman anymore, but Kayla, a happy teenager.

"I had a boyfriend who I'd been with for a year and a half." She chuckled softly. "I thought he was wonderful. He had a way of making me feel so special! And loved! And oh, I loved him with all of my being. I pictured David standing beside me at the altar, and going to the Bahamas for our honeymoon."

David. My father's name.

"When I was 17, David broke up with me. I couldn't take it. I wanted him back so bad, it hurt, physically as well as emotionally. I hung onto his sister Cassie so I could try to get a glimpse of him. In the end, though, I really liked Cassie, and she became a very close friend." She paused for a moment to let the news sink in. My Aunt Cassie wasn't Mom's sister, but she was still my father's, so she was still my aunt.

"I wanted you to have some family, but I couldn't give you any," she said. [You know, seeing as I relinquished all legal rights to your sister and disowned my parents, even though they were kind enough to look after you while I was rotting in jail.]

"But Aunt Cassie's family no matter what." Mom shook her head. "Don't make any conclusions until I've finished."

"Anyway, I finally asked Jenna to talk to David and put in a good word about me. She didn't want to get involved, but I begged her until she said yes. A while later, I found out that she'd been secretly dating him. She said nothing happened 'til we'd broken up, but I didn't believe her, or even care. Our friendship ended like that," she said, snapping her fingers. "Soon she was pregnant, and the two of them got engaged."

"So David is Katherine's father, too?" I cried, feeling sick.

She gave me a Look and I shut up.

"By this time, we were divided. Cassie and I were friends, but not with Jenna. I never talked to David. Jenna stayed with David and hung out with Michael, her other best friend. Yes, my Michael," she added before I could ask.

"One night, David came to visit me. He was drunk, but only a little. We got to talking, and to...other things. We had sex for the first time." She sighed.

[Not really the way you hoped to explain your deflowering to your horny little son, is it, Kayla?]

"A month later I was pregnant. I already knew he wouldn't leave Jenna since she was farther along than I was. I would be cut short on child support and his attention. [And..other things.] I was out of my mind." She looked at me pleadingly now, and reached for my hand. I didn't pull away. "This next part is delicate. It was Cassie's idea, but I chose to go along with it. I thought then that everything would be OK. Still, though, I was scared out of my mind."

My blood felt like ice. "What happened, Mom?"

Her voice was shaky, and barely above a whisper. "Cassie picked me up and drove me to an ice cream place [what, no shout-out for the DQ?] where David and Jenna were. I got in the driver's seat, and when they came out and crossed the street--" She broke down, her face crumbling. "It was Jenna I wanted to kill, so David wouldn't cheat my baby; maybe he would've loved me again. And we hit her! I saw her go down. But the car only brushed her. David pushed her out of the way and got the impact." My mother's body shook with sobs. "Jenna's baby died, but she was OK. My David left me, too, and went to Heaven."

[You'd think the fact that she was pregnant herself would have caused her to show more remorse for killing an innocent life that hadn't even been born yet, but no, she still mourns the jackass who couldn't keep his dick in his pants.]

[I'm sorry, David, I didn't mean it. Love you! Mean it! RIP!]

I was shocked, but didn't speak. I let her compose herself enough to continue.

"Cassie and I went to jail. Her for three-and-a-half years, me for only three. She was a little unstable for a while [ha!], so she got longer for therapy. I got paroled." Mom squeezed my hand hard. "I gave birth after seven months in jail to a little girl."

"No," I whispered. She nodded.

"I named her Katherine Marie Evans, in memory of Jenna's baby; it would have been a girl, and she was gonna name her Mary Katherine."

"She didn't stay with you?" I asked. I felt a lump in my throat.

"The law wouldn't allow it, sweetheart. I couldn't keep her more than a year. My parents wouldn't take her, under the circumstances."

"Why Jenna?" I cried. "And where did Evans come from?"

"Evans is my real last name. I changed it later. And Jenna... She missed her baby, and wanted mine. Her and Michael--they took Katherine from the prison, but Jenna changed her mind. They got caught on the way from Wisconsin back to Illinois." She wiped her face. "They got married. When my year was done, I let them adopt her."

"My sister...my God!" I yelled. How could this happen?

Mom rushed on. "Don't freak on me! This is important. You've realized by now that David's not--he couldn't be--your father."

[THAT'S the important part?!]

After a moment, it hit me that she was right. I had had all the facts, but didn't want to piece them together. My father figure image had been shattered.

[Because every boy prays for a daddy who abandons him before he's even left the womb.]

"Yes," I whispered.

"About a month after I gave Katherine away, the pain was still as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. I fell into depression, and that left me open. Many people picked up on it, including two security men. They--they hurt me bad, sweetie." She smiled through a haze of tears and stroked my cheek. "Do you see what I'm saying?"

[Rape child, never meant to be! Rape child, born in minimum security!]

I saw.

"I'm sorry, Momma," I choked. She held me to her tightly.

[I think it's appropriate to change tracks, don't you? Enter "A Song for Mama" by Boyz II Men.]

"Never say that again," she said softly. "You saved my life and made me whole. Nobody but you could have done it. Not Cassie, Katherine, David, nobody but you. I'm sorry I lied. I just wanted you to be OK. I thought if we found your sister, we'd all be OK."

"I'm not mad." [Of course you're not. Your newfound guilt over being a product of rape has now overshadowed any of Kayla's heinous wrongdoings. Well played, Kayla!] I looked at my mother with shame. "Momma, I hurt Katherine, the way you were. That's why she's--" I couldn't say anymore. I begged for forgiveness with my eyes. I knew she understood.

[But you're still grounded! No sex for a week.]

She hugged me again, then stood up. "Why don't you go find your aunt? I know she needs you."

I stared at her.

"She's still your aunt, Kyle. Love made you her nephew." I nodded and went to Aunt Cassie's room. The door was open. I found her sitting on her bed, hunched over. "Auntie," I said. She looked up, and her face radiated pure joy at that one word. I gave myself to her opening arms.

[Journey, anyone?]

"I'm sorry about your brother," I whispered, "but I'm glad you're with me."

"Me, too, baby," she replied. "Me, too."

-------

Is Kyle redeemed YET? You people hold grudges for way too long.

Tragic Love Friday: RIP, incest/rape baby

Don't give me any crap, there's no way you can call that a spoiler. This kid never had a chance.

I realized something this week: For the next two Fridays, I will be on vacation. Next week because of BlogHer, and the following week for a three-day, two-night "girls only" camping trip for my mother's side of the family. What to do about TLF?

I'm perfectly aware that I can draft posts beforehand and program them to publish on the appropriate day, but I'm a little nervous that I'll do something wrong and everyone will be mad at me and my lack of technological skillz. Also, I actually have tried this before--typed up the installment and set it to publish at noon--but when fifteen minutes had passed and the entry still hadn't posted, I just went back in to TypePad and overwrote it.

Not to mention I'm still working on my blog book and trying to "find myself" over at Parents.com. Also, I'm in no hurry to see this sequel end. On the last day, I think I might cry, even though I'm sure the reader-inspired part three will be tons of fun.

I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm not sure what to do yet. I'm eighty-percent sure I'll skip next week since a lot of us will be gone. You have been warned.

-----

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - JENNA (CONTINUED)

"I'm sorry," she told him sadly. At me, she smiled weakly. "I didn't plan on us meeting again under these circumstances."

[Would the baby shower for her and Michael's love child have been more appropriate?]

I wanted to hug her and hit her at the same time.

"This is your son?" I asked, awed.

She nodded proudly.

"Did you know my dad?" Kyle asked me hopefully.

"Your dad?" He fumbled in his wallet and pulled out a photo. It was old. It was David.

"Please don't," she begged me. "It'll come out later, but not now."

"You've lied to everyone!" I shouted.

"I had to! I went through hell to keep my family!"

"About this family thing--you don't have a sister, so who the fuck is that?" I pointed to the woman beside her, who had kept quiet the whole time. Kayla looked at me sharply, and Kyle's face crumbled. "You lied? I'm not your nephew?" he asked the woman.

"Cassie!"

"You have wonderful timing," she informed me angerily.

[On Monday night, I had a dream that I was on the run in a third-world country where they wanted to throw me over a balcony and onto a mattress of suspected criminals. I ran into a dusty building and parked my ass behind a school desk, remaining still as a mouse, while police followed and searched every nook and cranny for a trace of my wherabouts. One of them was standing right next to me but was oblivious to my "awesome" hiding place until one of his smarter counterparts shone a light on my face. Then they wanted to throw me into a pit of fire. The mattress-throwing thing sounded pretty damn good then.

What does this have to do with TLF? Absolutely nothing. Moving on.]

"Jenna and Michael Spencer?" We all turned to find a young-looking doctor rush out of Katherine's room. "Come with me now." He headed quickly toward the room again.

"What's going on?" Kayla shouted.

"We're gonna lose her if we don't get that baby out."

"I'm coming, too! That's my daughter!" she cried.

[OH NO SHE DIDN'T.]

Michael disappeared with the doctor. I pushed Kayla away.

"No! She's my daughter! Don't come near her," I threatened. "You lost the right to call yourself her mom a long time ago." I left her standing there and burst through the door.

About seven doctors were working on her. She was stuck all over with tubes. My baby was conscious on top of it all. She saw everything, and was quite aware of what was going on. Or so it seemed.

"You've gotta push, Katherine," the young doctor told her. "Help us help you."

[And to think, this was written two whole years before Jerry Maguire.]

"I can't! I'll hurt her," she replied tearfully.

"You won't, I promise. You'll actually help her. We can try to save her if we can get her out."

"Why don't you perform a casaerean on her?" Michael asked sharply. "Time's being wasted!"

[I love how the man who couldn't recognize he was cheating on his wife with the mother of his adopted daughter is now clever enough to disperse medical advice.]

[Also, Frema, M.D. to the rescue once again!]

"Because it's dangerous," Dr. Brock answered. (I finally read his tag.) "But we now have no other choice."

My husband and I watched in silence as they gave her a shot in the spine. She yelled out. When they finally cut her open, I buried my face in Michael's shoulder.

"We've got it," Dr. Brock called a while later.

"She's here! Give her to me!" cried Katherine, weakly opening her arms.

I heard the doctor gasp, and I turned to look.

When I use the word "baby" to describe its appearance, I use it for lack of a better word. It barely resembled a human being.

I could make out the body, with two short stubs for legs, one longer than the other. The baby had part of one arm. Its head was totally deformed, and it had maybe half a skull. I saw two shut eyes, and I think a nose. Blood was wrapped around it like a blanket.

[*Frema takes a deep breath, rubs belly reassuringly, reminds herself she has not recently overdosed on antidepressants.*]

"I'm sorry," Dr. Brock said kindly to Katherine, his face a mask of pity. "She never had a chance."

"Give her to me," she repeated. He glanced at me as if to say, I can't deny her. He placed her gently in my daughter's care.

"Hi, sweetie," she said, caressing her face. "I'm so sorry I did this to you," she whispered brokenly. "You don't deserve this. I do." Katherine viewed the baby's body intently. "I hurt you bad, didn't I?" She started to cry. "You're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I love you, Katrina. I always did." She closed her eyes. "Pray for me when you get to Heaven."

[If your eyes aren't wet after that scene, you are made of stone. Hopefully, the batch of spinach dip I made for today's department pitch-in will see me through this difficult time.]

* * *

Dr. Brock escorted my husband and me out of the room. "I think she'll be OK, physically at least. She informed us that she took some of your pills," he added to me. "Are you on any kind of medication?"

"Sedatives, anti-depressants, and something to help me when I can't sleep," I answered guiltily.

"That induced her labor, and you could say 'part' of an abortion took place. That's why the fetus came out so damaged. Katherine will need about another week here." He added sympathetically, "I wish your Christmas could have been better."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"Go on home. She'll be asleep the rest of the day, maybe part of tomorrow."

The twins jumped out of their seats.

"How is she?" Lucas demanded.

"Is Kath gonna be OK?" Leigh asked desperately.

I glanced at Michael, who nodded.

"Kath will be fine, but she's gonna stay here for a while."

"What about the baby?" I turned around and saw Kyle, wringing his hands and looking really nervous.

"I'm sorry," I said, and I meant it. "It was just too undeveloped to have a chance."

He took a deep breath; his chin quivered. "Could I see Katherine?"

"She's asleep now," I warned, "and they're only allowing immediate family in."

He nodded and walked quickly away. I suddenly realized that that was Katherine's immediate family. I felt sick to my stomache. It was a hidden blessing that the baby died.

I glanced over to where Kayla and Cassie were. Kayla had her head on Cassie's shoulder, her eyes closed. Cassie was stroking her hair. She had a faraway look on her face. I thought about going over to them. It had been so long! But the image of Kay and Michael hurt me too much. Let HIM comfort her. I also couldn't get over the fact that she told her son that David was his father. Lies!

"Let's go, kids," I said, leading them. "We'll come back later."

"I'm going to stay," Michael said softly. I glared at him. "I didn't include you in our plans, anyway. Have fun with KAYLA." He flinched as the twins and I walked out of the hospital. I felt utterly alone.

-------

And I am utterly hungry. Time for lunch.

Tragic Love Friday: When worlds collide

Look at me and my mad posting-five-times-in-one-week skillz. Did you enjoy the ride? I hope so, because I don't predict it happening again anytime soon, at least not solely on this site (did you take that as a hint that new and exciting things are on their way? I sure as hell hope so, because otherwise, no offense, but you're really not that bright).

Anyway, in addition to my new Secret But Awesome Freelancing Gig, I also have a blogging class to plan for, a class that has not received nearly enough TLC. There are books to read, syllabi to plan, and assignments to plot out that will hopefully cause my students to pump their fists in the air with glee instead of groan over the injustice of receiving such an incompetent teacher. At this point in time, it could go either way.

Before I jump into TLF, though, I'd like to thank everyone for all the kind comments I've gotten over the last two days. Because I've been swamped with work, I won't be able to respond individually to everyone, but know that your support and well wishes mean so much, and there would be no Secret But Awesome Freelancing Gig if it weren't for you. If any of y'all are attending the BlogHer conference in Chicago in two weeks, I will have no choice but to crush you in a bear hug as a token of my thanks. Unless you don't like to hug. Then I'll leave you alone. As long as you don't put your hands on my stomach(e).

-------

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - JENNA (CONTINUED)

"How did this happen?" An attendant asked as he hooked her up to IVs.

"She - she was kicked and smashed her stomache. She's pregnant," I added brokenly.

"How far along is she?"

"I have no idea," I admitted sadly. He glanced at me sharply, and I quickly added, "She wasn't showing, so she can't be that far."

[How much you wanna bet this guy's next phone call is to Child and Family Services?]

The rest of the way to St. Mary Magdalene's Hospital was spent squeezing my little girl's hand.

Once there, they took her away to a room in the EMERGENCY wing. I filled out the necessary paperwork and told her nurse what I knew. Then I sank in a chair in the waiting room, waiting for my family and praying for my baby. For the first time in a while, I thought about Kayla. She didn't know what was happening; never would. That saddened me because I was sure that wherever she was, she still loved her daughter.

[That she does. And your husband, too!]

I also thought of Mary Katherine, my unborn angel. She would've been 15, just like my oldest. I wonder what she would've looked like, been like? Probably the spitting image of David. To think, so much would've turned out differently if I hadn't been hit by that car all those years ago. I would've married David and had Mary Katherine. He would've been paying child support to Kayla for Katherine, who probably wouldn't have been named Katherine. It sounded nice, but then Katherine wouldn't have been mine, or Michael's. Michael and I would never have admitted our love for each other, and Leigh and Lucas wouldn't have been born. Cassie... I had no idea what happened to her.

I sighed.

[Wouldn't it be fun if I rewrote that scene just to see what would happen? Maybe it'd go something like this: Kayla misses both David and Jenna and smashes into the Dairy Queen drive-thru window. Is discovered and hauled off to jail. Gives birth to baby girl, who she names Kaylene because she's self-centered like that. Meanwhile, David and Jenna are married and ripping each other's heads off in a cramped one-bedroom apartment with little Mary Katherine, who is born without thumbs because I love to tormet little children. David falls in love with Kayla's svelte mom figure and Kaylene's ability to properly fill out the finger holes in her mittens. He and Kayla engage in another night of passion thanks to the prison's flexible stance on conjugal visits. Kayla gets pregnant AGAIN. Michael is impressed with her fertility and proposes marriage, because we all know he's jonesing for a wife, and what other prospects does she have? Little does he know that Kayla has all the men, while Jenna is left trying to shed those last ten baby pounds. Jenna does something crazy, but I don't know what, because holy crap, how many stories can I work on at one time?]

"Momma!" I looked up and saw Leigh running to me, Lucas right behind her. They crushed me into a hug. "Hi," I said. "You guys doin' OK?" Leigh didn't answer but wouldn't look at me. Lucas just shrugged.

"Where's your father?" I asked hesitantly.

"By the payphones," Leigh answered.

He was calling his bitch. I stiffened. Well, great. I'd finally meet her.

Forty-five minutes later, not one woman showed up, but two. A handsome boy was with them. He was crying, hard. A woman with short brown hair met Michael in the corridor, and he embraced her fiercely. She had tears down her cheeks as well.

[These people really have no shame, do they? I mean, Jenna is RIGHT THERE.]

After a few minutes, they pulled apart and Michael nodded in my direction. The woman shook her head [coward], but he lead her to me anyway. I rose out of my seat and stood tall.

"Jenna." Michael looked almost embarassed. "This is Kay. Kay, my wife." He cringed at the word "wife," but I pretended not to notice.

"Lovely to meet you, Kay," I said sarcastically.

"I'm so sorry about Katherine," Kay said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She was shaking like a leaf. I took a closer look at her. Something was oddly familiar. "Has the doctor said anything?"

"He hasn't come out yet," I replied, looking over her shoulder.

"That's my sister with my son, Kyle," she offered as she followed my gaze. I raised an eyebrow.

"You're Kyle's mother? Oh, well in case Michael hasn't already told you, my daughter is pregnant. Since she and Kyle were such good friends," I commented sharply, stressing the word 'friends,' "it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened."

"Lord, no," Kay whispered, looking horrified. "That can't be."

"Are you telling me my daughter's NOT lying in a hospital bed with a baby inside her?" I yelled angerily.

[How many times in life does one get to pose that question? Not many, I'll bet.]

She wasn't paying attention to me. Her chin was trembling, and she kept blinking her eyes really hard. She clutched her stomache, and her breathing became irregular.

[For some reason this description reminds me of The Hand That Rocks the Cradle, specifically that scene where Claire is suffering from an asthma attack and can't find her inhaler because the bitch nanny, Peyton, hid them all in a blatant attempt to kill her off and steal her family.]

[Do I have babies on the brain or what? Also, paranoid much, Frema?]

"Are you OK? Is it the baby?" Michael asked her worriedly.

She was pregnant?

"Not the baby," Kay managed to say between gasps. "Oh God, what did I let happen!" She broke down completely, burying her face in her hands.

"Mom?" The boy - Kyle - was at his mother's side, the sister close behind. He looked at me curiously. His hair was so bright; like gold...

"Kayla," I whispered. She looked up at me and didn't answer, and I knew it was true.

"Son of a BITCH!" I cried. Michael pulled away instantly, shock on his face.

-------

I want to keep going, but I'm so afraid of the time when I have to post the last entry, so I'm putting it off as long as I can. In the meantime, consider this idea I have for a part three:

Remember that game telephone, where the kids sit in a circle and one kids says a message and every other kid has to pass it down to the one at the end, and that one is the one who has to say it out loud and see how close it is to the original message?

Well, my idea isn't like that one at all, but kind of. Part three could involve a group of people (preferably not children), but instead of repeating the message, each one would build on it.

Like this. Say I write the first entry for part three. Next week, it could be...Isabel. The week after that? Your mom David. After that? Pink Herring. Then Silly Hily. Then Audrey. Then Fraulein N. Then maybe back to me. And so on and so forth.

I'll be super busy this fall, what with work, teaching, freelancing, and gestating, so this would be a convenient way to continue TLF without the burden of all that writing falling on my shoulders. Plus, having new authors could take the story in interesting directions, directions I probably wouldn't even have considered on my own, and it really could be like a soap opera, with no end in sight. Also a plus, since it's not my writing, I won't bitch and moan about losing creative control. This will be TLF for the people, by the people.

(To make sure the plot doesn't completely run away from me, though, I would reserve the right to veto one plot point per entry and revise it in case a character's actions keep me from sleeping at night. The strike-through feature will come in especially handy for this, so you can see the author's original thought process, and I could explain my reasons for any changes.)

Potential downfalls? Well, you guys, I guess. This won't work if I don't receive a steady stream of volunteers, and there's always the possibility of somebody flaking out on their installment, thus leaving a big fat hole for that week of TLF.

What do you think? The future of TLF is in your hands--literally--so don't be shy with your opinion.

Tragic Love Friday: Pop, pop goes the baby, baby

Pop goes the baby and the baby goes pop!

(Please tell me somebody else can name this tune and that I'm not alone in my fondness for early-nineties rap.)

Things continue to get better around here. Thanks to my recent raise and HR's willingness to compensate me from my original June 13th hire date, today's paycheck was padded with an extra grand. Whoopee! And just in time, too, because last month's credit card statement is due in the mail any day, and vacations and new furniture don't exactly pay for themselves. Plus, our DSL connection finally turned on last night, which saves me from the fury that is dealing with AT&T.

I'm really looking forward to this weekend. My sisters Samantha and Ryan are driving down today for an overnight visit, and Luke and I just need to hang up our pictures and set up our (read: my) knick knacks to stick a fork in this apartment. Well, except for a couple of boxes of Luke's stuff in our bedroom, but those are his problem, not mine.

-------

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - JENNA

It was pitch black when I awoke on Christmas morning. I climbed out of bed as quietly as I could, but Michael got up anyway. "Merry Christmas," he said softly, reaching for my hand. I pulled away and hauled the huge bag of presents out from under the bed.

"Let's just get this done," I said flatly. He sighed and followed me into the living room, where our Christmas Tree stood. I knelt down and gazed at the ornaments. My eyes fell upon a yellow star with a family portrait pasted in the middle. I held it in my hands. The picture was old; the twins were only toddlers then, and Katherine about six.

"Jenna, let's talk."

I stiffened. "We have some work to do." I started to remove the gifts and arrange them under the tree. He grabbed my arm. "Stop! Just stop!"

"The kids'll wake up," I warned.

"Fine." He lowered his voice. "You've been ignoring me for the past couple of months, and I want to know why."

"Figure it out."

"I can't! What did I do?" He was lying; I saw it in his eyes. He knew I knew.

[Oh, this man has some big, hairy balls, doesn't he, folks? He's too cowardly to own up to his mistakes, so he places the responsibility of revealing his affair squarely on Jenna's shoulders. Although really, it's probably less about that and more about the fact that lil' Frema didn't truly understand the complicated dynamics behind Infidelity, Guilt, and Troubled Marriages.]

"Do you honestly think I'm so stupid that I'm not able to figure out what's going on?" I whispered sharply.

"What is going on?"

[Huge balls. GIGANTIC balls. Fitting for a dickhead.]

"You ass! You fucking ASS!" I screamed. "You've been having an affair! Screwing some whore!"

"Now wait a minute--" Michael started to protest, but I silenced him with a look. "If you even try to deny it, I'll walk out that door so fast you won't even see my shadow."

[When I was a kid, I was always fascinated by interrupted dialogue. Take The Wizard of Oz. Right after Glinda places the ruby slippers on Dorothy's feet and instructs her to follow the yellow brick road, Dorothy says, "But how can I--?" and Glinda cuts her off, repeating, "Just follow the yellow brick road." For years, YEARS I tell you, I wondered about the question Dorothy had planned to ask. "How can I tell if I'm going the right way?" "How can I get home?" Until I realized that the line was part of a script and therefore probably never finished in the first place. Duh, lil' Frema.

Anyway, as I look as Michael's unfinished sentence, I wonder what he could possibly have to say. "Now wait a minute, I've never paid her for sex"? "Now wait a minute, I may be cheating on you, but really she's a lovely woman"? "Now wait a minute, my delicate ears cannot handle such foul language"? It's not like he can deny her accusation or even defend himself at all.

Moving on.]

A muffled sob got my attention. "Oh, god," I whispered.

"Lucas? Leigh?" called Michael, rising to his feet and heading toward their rooms. "Katherine?" I was fast on his heels.

Leigh was crying hard, and Lucas was with her, cradling her in his arms. His eyes were also teary. "It's OK," he kept saying. "It's OK."

Katherine was in the corner on the floor, embracing her knees. "They're doing it again, Katrina." She was shaking her head, staring intently at the empty space in front of her. "They think we're stupid, that we can't see what's going on. It really doesn't matter anymore, anyway." She smiled. "I miss you inside. I feel so lonely, knowing you're not with me, but it feels like you never left. You're my best friend."

[Talking to the spirit of your dead fetus. One of those pesky side effects Planned Parenthood failed to include in their brochure.]

"Shut up!" I yelled at her, confused by her blabber.

"Don't yell at her!" Michael retorted.

"Stop it! Please!" Lucas cried. "Look what you're doing to us!"

Everybody got quiet.

"You think we're stupid, but we're not! We see it. We know what's gonna happen! Why don't you level with us and tell the truth?"

"Baby." I reached for him, but he held on to his sister, who was gazing at him with great admiration.

"You wanna know what's going on? Your father has decided I'm not a good enough wife. He's found a wonderful slut to fill my shoes!"

"You don't talk that way about me, ever! Especially in front of MY kids!" Michael screamed, slapping me. I belted him right back.

"Oh! I'm sorry. They know the truth now!"

He yanked my hair. I yelped and kneed him in the crotch.

[How can they be lovers if they can't be friends? How can they start over when the fighting never ends?]

"Stop fighting. Leave each other alone!" Katherine came running, trying to intercede, but she had terrible timing. I had just been about ready to kick Michael's stomache. My daughter knocked him out of the way, and my foot crushed her in the belly and lower abdomen. She screamed and went flying, falling over Leigh's desk. Glass trinkets fell on top of her, splinters moving in all directions. Horrified, I watched as Katherine's stomache rumbled and burst, watery liquid gushing between her legs.

[How does a stomach(e) rumble? Let me count the imaginary ways.]

In no time, Michael was on the phone, talking to the paramedics. I knelt beside her. "I'm so sorry," I choked, my voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

She looked at me with sad eyes. "Momma, Katrina's coming after all."

"Who's Katrina?" I asked her. She closed her eyes.

"Don't touch her. The ambulance will be here in a few minutes," Michael said. He looked on the verge of saying something, but stayed quiet.

"She's pregnant," I whispered in shock, staring at the mess surrounding her. "Katrina's her baby."

"You're lying! Kathy wouldn't do that," Lucas cried, looking devastated. "She's too smart."

"Will she be OK, Mom?" Leigh asked tearfully. "She's gotta be. I don't have any other sister."

"Neither do I," Lucas said softly. "I mean, not like Katherine," he added when Leigh punched him, hurt.

[...And a noble attempt by lil' Frema to lighten the mood falls flat on its face.]

The doors burst open [more bursting!] and men in white uniforms came in with a stretcher. They gently put Katherine on it. We all rushed out with them to the ambulance. "Who's riding with her?"

"I am," I said, pushing Michael aside. "Make sure the twins are dressed warm, then follow in the car," I told him. He nodded and forcefully led the kids back in the house.

-------

There you have it. Michael has revealed himself to be the biggest asshole in the history of the universe and Jenna has finally embraced her inner rage. We should all be so lucky to celebrate the birth of baby Jesus this way.

Next week: The moment we've all been waiting for. Jenna and Kayla meet again! Be sure to bring cookies.

Tragic Love Friday: Set the pain to music

People, what a week. Luke and I spent the majority of our after-work hours rummaging through the various crevices of our apartment, dumping loads of crap onto the unsuspecting folks at Goodwill, continuing to mull over the pros and cons of a damn changing table (OK, that one's just me), and figuring out how many pizzas we'll need to feed the wonderful friends and family helping us move this Saturday. I also managed to (FINALLY) settle on a book list for my students and (FINALLY) follow through on the promise I made many moons ago to the winners of my TLF contest.

That's right. Not only is Silly Hily's first season of Beverly Hills, 90210 traveling to her office via Priority Mail as we speak, I also created, burned, and distributed limited-edition copies of the Love, Betrayal, and a Baby Original Soundtrack. Somebody give me a medal.

What's that? You want to see the playlist? Of course you do. You want to make your own!

"Cruel Summer," Ace of Base

First of all, right off the bat I have to thank Hilary for the hours of Gmail chat time she spent hashing out possible song choices for major plot points in the story. When debating a theme song for part one, she was the one who came up with "Cruel Summer," and I immediately agreed, because shit, if illegitimate pregnancy, infidelity, attempted murder, and prison time don't set the standard for a tragic time of year, what the hell does?

"Don't Rush Me," Taylor Dayne

This was chosen to represent what may have been at the heart of David and Kayla's relationship troubles: Kayla's unwillingness to put out. I so admire the sentiment here--a young girl wanting to "take it slowly, slowly" because their love is "well worth waiting for," but really, would a stroke below the belt have been too much to ask for?

"Ex-Girlfriend," No Doubt

The sequence of these last two songs is one of my favorites on the soundtrack; the cause-and-effect implication is priceless. It demonstrates to all those virgins hopeful for a more positive outcome that you better work to keep your man at home.

"Boom! I Got Your Boyfriend," M.C. Luscious

Enter Jenna and her role as the woman who had little trouble dating and then sleeping with her best friend's ex-boyfriend weeks after the man broke said best friend's heart. He was playin' her too hard, know what I'm sayin'?

FYI, I remember hearing a parody of this song on a Chicago radio station when I was a kid that had me in stitches every time: "Boom! I Got Your Boyfriend (and I'm a Man)." Classic Eddie and JoBo! It was second only to "I Gotta Go Pee."

"Strawberry Wine," Deana Carter

A tale about the loss of sexual innocence as told by a visiting farm girl not quite of legal age, these lyrics perfectly capture the sentiment behind the romantic night David and Kayla spent together. I really wanted to use "We've Got Tonight" and frantically searched for it on iTunes to no avail, until Molly pointed out to me that the version I wanted wasn't by Kenny Rogers, but Bob Seger, and she graciously sent me a mixed CD that included a live recording, but that version didn't seem to mesh with the rest of the soundtrack, so I picked this one instead, which was also on Molly's CD.  Does this girl have good taste in music or does this girl have good taste in music?

Also, for what it's worth, I loved David and Kayla's chemistry, and part of me wishes I'd never killed him off. Based on this one scene, I truly believe they could've made each other happy for the rest of their lives.

"Mr. Loverman," Shabba Ranks

The soundtrack wouldn't have been complete without a little ditty celebrating David's philandering ways. I don't really care for anything about this song except the title and the random "Shabbas!" peppered throughout the chorus, but what more do you need?

"The Boy is Mine," Brandy and Monica

Again, another song I'm not crazy about, but what else nails the rivalry between Kayla and Jenna?

"One More Try," Timmy T

I downloaded this song around the time the cheesy love song swap was going on, so I'm delighted to put it to good use now, to reflect David's desperate attempts to win Jenna back once his act of indiscretion was revealed, though why he didn't just call it a day and go back to Kayla is beyond me. And I'm the damn AUTHOR.

"Livin' on the Edge," Aerosmith

Hilary and I debated over a song for Cassie for weeks. "There are plenty of crazy bitches in the world," I typed at one point. "Why has nobody written a song about them?"

So we decided on this one, because damn if this girl wasn't dangling her common sense over a ravine the size of the Grand Canyon.

(I Just Died) In Your Arms – Cutting Crew

No explanation necessary.

"Jailhouse Rock," Elvis Presley

Even better...

"Love Child," Diana Ross and the Supremes

...And best. Did you notice this is the second pro-abstinence song on the soundtrack? I originally thought this was just about some woman's fatherless past, but it turns out she's also discouraging a man's advances because she doesn't want to populate the world with another baby out of wedlock. Well done, Diana.

"Invisible Man," 98 Degrees

Had Nick Lachey formed this slammin' boy band just two years earlier, this is the song that would've played through Michael's head every time he shot a load in his pants over the thought of getting to first base with Jenna. Proposed by David.

"Born to Run," Bruce Springsteen

It was either this or "On the Road Again" to represent the kidnapping, and I can only take so much of Willie Nelson before I want to plug my ears with cottonballs.

"Fall to Pieces," Avril Lavigne

This is the only song on the soundtrack that has a respectable chance of receiving airplay on a contemporary radio station, which is why I almost kept it off, but in the end I thought it served an important purpose, a musical background to the montage of Kayla making piece with Jenna, Jenna and Michael being carried away in squad cars, and all of them realizing the love they feel for one another. I wouldn't call myself an Avril fan, but she really earned my trust with this one. It almost makes up for "Sk8er Boi."

"Save the Best for Last," Vanessa Williams

Picture this as the song of choice for Jenna and Michael's first wedding dance, and it totally works. Plus, very en vogue for the time.

"How Can I Help You Say Good-bye," Patty Loveless

The second country song to sneak its way onto the CD, I could think of no better way to honor the short time Kayla and Katherine had together as mother and daughter. It's one of those songs that's guaranteed to pull a tear from my eye, right up there with Reba McIntyre's "The Greatest Man I Never Knew." (I love you, Dad! Sob.)

"Graduation Day," Vitamin C

OK, so technically the gang didn't graduate together--hell, David wasn't even alive to walk across the stage--but the "friends forever" theme still stands, because by the end of the story, they've pretty much figured out how to co-exist in the same universe without fighting over past mistakes. Deep down, these characters are all connected, all care about each other, and I think that holds true for the sequel, too, even if it's not yet obvious.

I debated skipping out on this week's actual excerpt, partly because things are insanely busy around here, partly because this entry is already long enough, and partly because we're fewer than fifty pages from wrapping up the sequel and I'm all for dragging this out as long as possible. However, since I hadn't given prior notice, I didn't think it would be fair. So I've decided to compromise by finishing up Kyle's chapter from last week. Next Friday is when the wheels really start to turn.

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CHAPTER TWELVE - KYLE (CONTINUED)

Snow was falling and the wind was blowing as I walked through the streets. It was pretty isolated, except for a handful of people milling around, running in and out of stores, doing last-minute Christmas shopping. The big day was only a week away. I sat down on a bench and let my mind ponder on everything.

My mother was pregnant. God. I liked being the only kid around. I certainly didn't plan on having brothers or sisters. And she's not even married! It really bothered me that she was sleeping around with some guy. Especially since she didn't introduce her family to him. That hurt. [I can see his point. He never would've raped Katherine without a proper Mom introduction.] Some guy was the father of my soon-to-be brother or sister, and I had no idea who he was. [To be fair, you don't know your own dad, either. Why break the cycle now?]

And then Mom said Katherine was a part of this whole mess. Did she know something I didn't?

Katherine. My God.

I had hurt her, I could tell. In school she kept to herself, and she wouldn't even look at me. She looked lost. I imagined she felt out of place with the world.

Not that it mattered, I told myself firmly. It was her fault that shit happened. That night... Damn. She made me be forceful, teasing me like that. I wanted it to be special. Instead, she ruined it and made me hate her. I DO hate her.

It doesn't matter that I fell in love with her.

Not at all.

[Poor Kyle. Don't you hate it when the girl you force into sex doesn't hold herself accountable for her own actions?]

-------

That's a wrap, kiddies. Wish me luck as I supervise all the heavy lifting this weekend. It's a rough job, but someone's gotta do it.

Tragic Love Friday: Anything you can do, I can do better

I know that everybody's lives are hectic and jam-packed, but sometimes I wonder what the hell I've gotten myself into. Full-time job. Baby on the way. Adjunct teaching this fall. Secret freelancing gig slated to start next week (details coming soon, I promise). I'm so excited about all the opportunities that've fallen into my lap this year, but I'm still scared that maybe I've bitten off more than I can chew. Oh, well. You never know until you try, right?

Anyway, on the homefront, things seem to be moving along. Luke and I went sofa shopping Thursday night and found some reasonably priced furniture at Sofa Express (and More!), so tonight we're going in to place an order for a queen-sized sleeper and matching chair. We're also still researching bookcase options, since Indianapolis retailers are slowly squelching our dreams of avoiding yet another delivery charge. In regards to a new kitchen table, Luke and I have decided to put that off until next year, when we hope to get into a house.

This weekend, we'll dedicate some time to giving the apartment and our storage unit a much-needed once-over to avoid bogging down our new abode with items we can agree to live without. I also hope to make some more progress with my reading for class and, if time allows, burn that damn TLF soundtrack I've been yakking about for the last couple of months. Most of the songs are ready; it's the damn cover art I'm stuck on. If anybody's up for putting something together, feel free to let me know.

Before I jump into this week's latest tragic occurrence, I wanted to share with you an idea proposed to me via e-mail this week. It was suggested that I make available a version of the story that isn't peppered with commentary, as all those brackets can keep a person from becoming fully invested in the plot. I don't mind doing this as long as it's worth my time, which I can only gauge by receiving feedback from you. How valuable are my quips and random asides to TLF? Would you welcome (one day) reading the story without having to sift through my poor attempts at humor?

OK. Now where were we? Oh, poor Katherine. So pregnant. So alone. So very naive in the ways of killing your unborn child.

-------

CHAPTER ELEVEN - KATHERINE (CONTINUED)

When I woke up, I felt different. I couldn't move. "Katrina?" I whispered.

Someone was crying. I tried to lift my head, but that person was cradling it. Shannon. "Kat-Katherine," she sobbed.

[And who, might you ask, be playing the role of Katherine's BFF? Your suggestions were golden, but since I never watched American Dreams and don't really care for Jessica Alba, the part went to:

I know Elizabeth-Berkeley-as-Jessie-Spano will do an excellent job. Thanks for playing. Also, a special shout-out goes to our dear friend Isabel, who almost had me out of my chair with her mention of Joyce DeWitt.]

I pulled myself into a sitting position, but it was hard. Very hard. That's when I saw the blood. I was soaked in it, in chunks of blood and a watery liquid, from the waist down. Amazed, I gathered it in my hands. It fell through my fingers as if it were sand. Bits of my baby. I brought her to my face. A distinct smell of vomit was in the air. That and feces.

[I sincerely hope you've already had lunch.]

"You've been throwing up for hours," Shannon choked. "You're bowels have been running, and--blood...Gushing--" She covered her mouth.

"It worked," I said, surprised. "How?"

"You cried out before you - passed out. I carried you to the bathroom and was able to pump some of the stuff out of you. You started to gag--I held you over the toilet, but I couldn't stop the blood." She looked horrified.

[But apparently not enough to call 911. Smart girl, that Shannon.]

[Also, lucky is the woman who can sleep through violent regurgitation and raging diarrhea.]

[Also also, I totally typed "when you're driving in a Chevy" into Yahoo! to confirm the proper spelling for diarrhea.]

"That's OK." Dazed, I viewed the room. It was covered with blood, vomit, shit and water. "She had to leave." I caressed my face with my daughter. Her smell was sweet. Shannon grabbed my hands. "Kath, you were pregnant. You lost your baby."

I nodded.

[Um, how would Shannon know this? Katherine's only a few weeks along, and unless there was an arm or toe bopping on the surface, there'd be no way for a teenager to diagnose this as a miscarriage.]

"Don't you see? You need a doctor!"

I shook my head. "No! No doctor! It's all over and I'm OK now. I'll clean up the mess." I went to stand, but my knees buckled.

"Like hell you will!" She supported my wobbly frame. "I'm calling someone. My parents left early, but--"

"No!" I clutched her shirt collar. "Shannie, please. My parents would die. My God, they can't know! And Kyle... Look. I know you're worried, and scared, but it's OK. I'm OK, see? I woke up, didn't I? And everything is out. My insides feel too empty for anything to be left." Actually, something was still swimming around, but it was probably a side-effect. "I'm begging you, Shannie. Please. I - I promise I'll see a doctor soon, but not right away."

She was weakening. "This isn't right," she said shakily.

[Neither was doing speed for your exercise video on Saved by the Bell, but we all make mistakes.]

"It's my body. It doesn't even hurt," I lied.

"If you don't see a doctor sometime soon, Katherine Marie Spencer, I'll kill you myself! I will!" I hugged her with what little strength I could muster. I thought I saw Katrina in the doorway. I shut my eyes.

After a while, Shannon let me go. "You need a bath," she said firmly. "I'm going to wash you. Don't argue with me, you're too weak," she said sharply when I opened my mouth to protest. "I'm in charge now, and you owe me that much." I couldn't disagree with her.

She filled the tub with hot, soapy water that hurt deliciously. She put in some bubbles to hide me. I sat and washed myself best I could while she washed the bathroom down three times, bleaching the floor twice to remove the blood stains. Then she soaped me down herself, and shampooed my hair. I was quiet until I noticed the water's change in color. "It's red," I cried.

"Don't worry," she told me quickly. "You're spotting. It's supposed to happen."

[I love how these girls aren't even out of high school and still feel perfectly capable of offering expert medical advice.]

She gave me clothes to wear, which she assisted in putting on; I just couldn't do it. I had to wear a pad for the spotting.

"What did you do to yourself, sweetie?" she asked while she brushed my headful of hair.

"My mom's sleeping pills; anti-depressants; sedatives..."

"Why?"

"To fix God's mistake," I answered, and she didn't ask anything else.

"I think you should make yourself throw up a few times, to make sure your system's clean."

[Of course. Purging is the new antibiotic!]

"OK." I checked the clock. 6:30 in the evening. "Wow. I gotta go. Where'd your parents go this morning, anyway?"

"Christmas shopping, downtown in the city." She grabbed my hand. "Stay another night."

I smiled. "I can't. I owe Lucas a checkers game." She hugged me to her, and I let out a deep sigh. "I'll be fine, really. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Can you walk?"

"I'll manage." I felt a little stronger. I felt Shannon's eyes on me as I limped my way home. My stomache was killing me.

CHAPTER TWELVE - KYLE

"Kyle? What are you doing in here?" Mom asked, entering my room without knocking. She frowned at the sight of dirty clothes everywhere, my rumpled bed and balled up paper airplanes. I shrugged and crumbled another piece of paper, then smoothed it out and made it into an airplane. Its flight was short-lived and landed near my mom's feet. "Wouldn't it be easier to just tell me what's wrong than turn your room into a runway?" she asked, crushing it with the foot of her heel. I rolled over on my bed until my back was facing her. "I'm fine. I'll be even better as soon as you leave." She ignored my reply and sat down beside me. Honestly, this woman can never take a hint.

[Amen, Kyle. However, if I were your mother and you talked to me like that, I'd pop you in the mouth.]

"I could help you if you'd quit being so damned mouthy." Mom smoothed my hair. I let her. "I haven't seen Katherine around in a long time."

I stiffened. "She's just a dumb blonde; nothing special."

"That's not true. I think she's very special, and I'm pretty sure you do, too." I heard the longing in my mother's voice, and it hit me that she missed her. "The two of you were like best friends. Can't you get beyond your differences and rebuild that?"

I finally understood. She hadn't realized that there had been a sexual attraction between us; she thought we were strictly platonic. We kinda were, too, until the night of the dance...

Forget about it, I told myself. Aloud I replied, "I never want to see her again."

"Fine, but you'll be sorry." She stood up. "C'mon in the kitchen. Aunt Cassie's waiting for us."

"Why?" I asked. She ran her fingers through her hair and gave a nervous smile. "I've got some pretty big news for you two that'll affect everybody."

"No! You promised!" I cried, jumping up and glaring at her. "You said we could stay! I don't want to leave!"

"Hey, hey, you've got the wrong idea," Mom assured me, touching my arm. "We're not moving again. I'm keeping my promise."

"Then what is it?" I muttered.

"Kitchen," she ordered, and pointed to the door. I obeyed, looking at her suspiciously.

I sat next to Aunt Cassie. "Hey, you," she greeted, but her face looked grim. She didn't look at Mom when Mom started to speak.

"You know I haven't been feeling the hottest lately. I thought it was the flu, but I wasn't too sure. So I went to the doctor, and he said--" She paused for a moment, then finished with "--I'm pregnant."

[This is where the "Anything you can do, I can do better" part of today's title came from, because God forbid something good or bad happen to anybody without this woman jumping in with a one-upper. Jenna gets pregnant? Kayla gets pregnant AND carries the baby to term. Jenna gets married and enjoys a committed, monogamous relationship for over a decade? Kayla steals him in two weeks. Biological daughter is raped? Kayla gets knocked up by said daughter's father. Kayla wins, every time!]

"WHAT?!?" Aunt Cassie smashed her fist on the table and rose out of her seat. "Are you fucken CRAZY?!?"

"The baby is due sometime in August," Mom continued. She opened her mouth to say more, but she was interrupted by a blow to the mouth from my aunt.

[Batshit crazy is back! Hooray!]

"Hey, stop!" I yelled and pushed her away. Mom stumbled back a few feet, and felt her mouth, which was bleeding.

"Hit my mother again and I'll knock you out," I snarled at my aunt. She was breathing hard, clutching a chair.

I fixed an icepack for Mom and handed it to her. "Thanks," she mumbled, pressing it to her face.

"How could you get pregnant?" I yelled; the very thought of it made me sick. "Why are you screwin' some guy when you aren't married? You didn't even introduce him to either of us. He's a stranger!"

"Young man, I'll let that go because you're upset, but you better watch your mouth!" Her voice wobbled, and she looked on the verge of tears.

"He's no stranger, is he, Kay?" Aunt Cassie said sarcastically.

"You shut up! He's a good man!" Mom snapped, wiping her eyes. "He loves me."

"He also loves his--" Mom threw the icepack at her. She had real good aim; it hit Aunt Cassie square in the face.

[If only it were this good twelve years ago!]

But she wasn't finished. She lunged for her, grabbing her hair and giving it a hard yank. "Watch what you say, Cass; I mean it," she snarled. She let go of her hair and sat down, burying her face in her hands.

[MAN, there's a lot of girl-on-girl action going on today!]

"I'm sorry," Aunt Cassie said softly and put a hand on Mom's shoulder as she started to cry. "I didn't mean to hurt you, really. I just--Kay, you know what's going to happen. You know! He can't leave! And what is Katherine going to think? She'll hate you." Mom nodded, sobbing. I suddenly felt very out of place; lost in the shuffle.

"Who cares what Katherine thinks? I'm your SON! What about what I think?!" She looked up at me then. Her eyes looked burned out, but her face held a certain serenity. The world was falling down on her, and yet, as upset as she was, she still looked peaceful. I had seen that kind of look only once before, when I was only 11. I knelt beside her and grabbed her hands. I couldn't stop shaking.

"Momma, it'll be OK," I whispered.

She understood, and held me while I cried.

"I know I let you down," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I also know that a lot of stuff is going to be brought up from a long time ago, and you're going to hate me for a long time. Just know everything I did, I did for a reason I thought was good at the time." She kissed the top of my head. "I've always loved you because you're my son."

"OK." She was scaring me. I pulled away. "What does Katherine have to do with anything?"

"A lot," she admitted. "But that'll come out later."

"Who is he, Mom?" I asked softly. She sighed. "I can't tell you yet, sweetie. It's too sticky a situation."

Aunt Cassie looked defeated. "We tried so hard," she said.

"I know, Cassie," Mom replied. "But I think it'll be OK. A baby is never a bad thing." She smiled and patted her belly affectionately, which showed no signs of pregnancy. "The truth has to be told sometime, anyway."

"You know he can't marry you," my aunt warned.

My mother just smiled again, and for some reason, it relaxed me. Mom could handle it. She was not a stupid lady.

[I think we'll be the judge of that.]

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There's still one page left of Kyle's chapter, but I've delayed today's posting long enough. Peace out, homies.

Tragic Love Friday: She's (not) having a baby

Ah, the gloriousness of a three-day work week. Aren't they the prettiest things ever?

Last night was spent in a whirlwind attempt to finally put our dishevled apartment back together, catch up on five episodes of All My Children, and finish one of the blog books I'm reading for class. I was on the verge of high-fiving myself when the taco I had for dinner decided to resurface, and I spent the last twenty minutes before bed rinsing out the toilet seat cover and bleaching the sink, all while Luke slept like a baby.

Almost fifteen weeks along and I'm still gagging myself with a toothbrush. Will it ever end?

Also, a random AMC note for those who watch: Is anybody else digging the new Greenlee? The character's a total biotch, of course, but the replacement actress they found is actually doing a decent job. Meanwhile, I continue to hate Ryan Lavery with the burning passion of a thousand suns. Just because Greenlee is the reason that Kendall was impregnated with Ryan's sperm doesn't mean she has any "moral claim" to Spike, seeing as she abandoned her gestating BFF the minute she found out Kendall used her own egg because Greenlee's were destroyed in a city-wide blackout and Ryan's sperm was thawing and there was no time to collect more of Greenlee's eggs and Kendall was terrified that Greenlee would kill herself because Ryan had faked his death by driving off a cliff and she wanted his child more than anything in the world, even though Ryan wasn't into kids at the time and actually had a vasectomy but sneaky Greenlee stole his sperm from a fertility clinic, which was donated back when Ryan first came to town and needed cash. The nerve of some people.

But anyway. On to TLF.

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CHAPTER TEN - KATHERINE (CONTINUED)

It was final. I was pregnant. I had officially become a statistic, and I hated that. It wasn't my fault! I didn't want kids; never had, and definitely never will. Yet here I was, an expectant mother.

But would I stay that way? I wasn't a fool; I knew my options. A baby was definitely not on my list of accomplishments this year. I couldn't do it. I had to get rid of my kid--I mean, the fetus. That's it.

"I'm having--I'm having--" I couldn't say the word "abortion." I just couldn't. "I'm ending my pregnancy," I said to myself firmly. That sounded better.

[Is Katherine breaking your heart yet? This poor girl can't get a break. I don't know if I have the heart to snark on her. But I'll try.]

Well, one thing was for sure. I wouldn't be able to go and have an abortion. The doctor would call my parents faster than I could say [your mom! Ha, I did it!] my name. Don't doctors have to say those things? I wasn't certain, but I didn't want to find out. [Apparently, neither did 'lil Frema. What a lazypants she was.] Also, I was broke. I'd have to do it myself. But how?

I felt horrible. I was planning to end a human life, on my own. "Oh, God," I sobbed, burying my face in my hands. My tears flowed, and for once I couldn't stop them. Shaking, I walked into my parents' room and grabbed the bottles off my mother's dresser. I examined the contents and labels. Sedatives, sleeping pills, anti-depressants... It suddenly hit me that my mother was emotionally unstable, probably had been for years. "Don't think about that," I whispered, my voice unsteady. My eyes were blurred with my tears, so I couldn't read the fine print that followed the "WARNING" label. I didn't care. I'd be OK in the end. I popped open the lid to the sleeping pills and only took one. Right now I needed rest. I'd plan everything out later. I swallowed the pill and curled up on my parents' bed, trying to drown out of my head the consequences of my decision.

[Remember when Julia was pregnant on Party of Five and wanted to an abortion but actually experienced a miscarriage? Even lil' Frema knew that was a cop-out on behalf of the writers. So, in the instances when you're too icked out for words--and trust me, folks, it gets icky--at least commend this youngling for her literary bravery.]

* * *

When I awoke, I felt groggy, unaware of everything. Where am I? I wondered. My head felt as heavy as a truck, and it hurt. I felt a distinct movement in my stomache. I got up slowly and fumbled around until my hand found the lightswitch. The room was filled with light, and I had to close my eyes. I let the wall support me as I slid down to the floor. When I opened them, Shannon was kneeling next to me.

I blinked my eyes. "Sh-Shannon." My tongue was like leather. "How come you're here?"

"Lucas let me in. No one else is here. We have to talk." She pulled me to my feet. "C'mon."

"Wait a minute." I pulled away and tried to glare at her, but it turned into a frown. "I have things to do. It'll have to wait until--maybe, in a few days--"

"With what, Katherine?!? What do you do besides veg out at home and isolate yourself? Nothing, and I'm sick of it. It's not healthy! Look at you!" Her eyes filled with tears. "Let me help you. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong! Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that? I'm FINE. Or I was until you showed up." I opened my mouth to yell some more until I saw the look on her face. Suddenly I felt bad. She was only worried about me. She had no idea what was going on.

My best friend saw my body loosen up, and she opened her arms. I accepted, and her embrace was tight. It's a good thing; otherwise I know I would've fallen.

[Shannon's a good pal and all, but don't you think her language is a little intense? It's like they're lesbians without benefits.]

"C'mon," she repeated. "Spend the night tonight."

[I rest my case.]

"Can't. Tomorrow's school," I replied, letting go.

"Today's Friday, Kath."

"I gotta ask my mom, and she's not home." Shannon looked hurt; I couldn't blame her. My mother wouldn't care, and she knows that.

An idea popped into my head.

"I'll leave a note," I relented. "I just gotta get some stuff." She nodded. She was waiting in the kitchen; I grabbed two of each pill and stuck them in my pocket. The rumble in my belly was painful. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what those "WARNING" labels were for.

Before I left, I checked on Lucas. He had an old photo album on his lap. "THE BRADY BUNCH" was on TV. I sat down beside him. "Whatcha lookin' at this stuff for, Luke?" He shrugged. We stared at the TV screen as Mike kissed Carol before he left for work.

"Dad doesn't do that anymore," he commented.

"No," I agreed. "But Mom's not home when he leaves. She works in the morning, or she's asleep from the night before."

"Nobody cooks dinner," he continued. "Dad doesn't play checkers anymore. (His favorite game.) Mom won't help me with my math. I got an 'F' on a big test yesterday." My brother's forehead wrinkled, and his chin trembled. "Leigh's never home. I hate her. And you act funny. You're staying at Shannon's, aren't you?" he demanded. I nodded, and he grabbed my arm. "Please don't leave, Kathy. I hate being alone!" His face completely crumbled, and he buried his face in my sweater. I cradled him in my arms. God, I felt awful for going. "I have to, Luke," I whispered. "I'll be home tomorrow, and we'll have a checkers marathon and we'll go over your test, and anything else you want to do." He lifted his head. "Promise?" I hugged him again. "I swear it."

I left him sitting there. I forget that he's only 12 sometimes.

"Let's go," I told Shannon.

[Too bad Katherine doesn't want children. She's already a better mother than Jenna and Kayla combined.]

END OF PART TWO

[Don't worry, I won't leave you hanging! I brought the next--the last! (sob)--notebook with me to work!]

PART THREE

CHAPTER ELEVEN - KATHERINE

We sat on Shannon's bed in silence. I didn't know what to say. I wanted to tell her that it wasn't her, but I couldn't tell her the truth.

"I'm sorry," I finally said.

"Why?"

"I know I haven't been the greatest person to be around. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"You were that way for a reason, Kath. What's wrong?" she asked gently.

"It's OK now, Shannie," I replied, ignoring her question and thinking of my pills. "Everything's gonna be OK. I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Katherine--"

"Shannon, please." I hugged her quickly. "Don't ask."

Thankfully she let it drop. We ate pizza and painted our nails. I caught up on gossip, but my heart wasn't into it. She could tell. "Kath, I've seen Kyle around with Andrea Polly," she said tentatively. "What happened with him?"

"It didn't work out," I answered. "He's a real jerk. Too possessive." Lies, lies, lies!

[Actually, that's the truth. He was possessive. Illegally and brutally possessive. Of her poor, innocent body.]

"Oh," Shannon cried. "I feel so stupid! That's why you've been like this." She squeezed my hand.

"It's alright, Shannie. There was nothing you could do." I stood up. "Be right back."

In the bathroom, I clutched the six pills in my clammy hand. I glanced in the mirror, only I didn't see me. I saw a little girl of about four or five. Her golden hair was in piggy tails, and her smile revealed shiny white teeth. Her eyes, however, had no pupils.

[So I guess the sleeping pill Katherine took also induces hallucinations? If that's the case, Jenna's been having a grand ole time these last few years. Also, from this description, I can't stop picturing Cindy Brady. And the brat wasn't even cute! Damn lil' Frema and her references to sixties-era television.]

"Mommy, ouch! That hurts! I don't feel good." The toddler's body cringed, and she cried out. "Momma, stop! Stop, momma, I'm in here!" I held back my sobs. "Go away, go away," I whispered, shaking my head and blinking hard. The little girl was gone. I was alone in my reflection.

["Are you pregnant? Do you feel trapped and alone? If so, take the wire hanger away from your vaginal canal and call the toll-free number at the bottom of your screen." Thus concluding lil' Frema's first pro-life commercial.]

[This making fun of people's pain, it's easier than I thought!]

"Katrina," I said, and I liked the sound. "Katrina," I continued, swallowing one pill; then another and another. "I'm not your momma. God gave you to me on accident. I'm returning you to Heaven, that's all." I drank a little water. "I wouldn't be a good momma anyway." I kissed the mirror, just in case my baby came back. "Bye-bye, Katrina."

[I got the "toddler's" name from my best friend in high school. We're still friends today; she even stood up in my wedding. Lucky for lil' Frema that her first initial fit in with the whole "K" theme she's got going on.]

Back in my friend's room, we turned off the lights and put on a movie. All the while my stomache churned, my head pounded, and my tongue felt too thick for my mouth. As the room started to fade, I started to panic, and for the first time I thought about the possibility that I could die. I would've deserved it.

My mind blanked, and all was dark.

-------

So, now that we're seeing more of Shannon, which celebrity do you think should play her? Let me know in the comments, and I'll find a picture of the one who collects the most votes.

Also, there are only fifty-three pages left until the end of the sequel. There is no part three, and I'm still not sure what to do. Keep going without the charm of lil' Frema or let TLF die peacefully in the "What're you lookin' at?" archives? This is how Meryl Streep's character must've felt in Sophie's Choice, I swear.

Tragic Love Friday: A little less talk, a lot more action

Well, not really a lot more, but enough to make up for the lull in the storyline these last couple of weeks.

Before I get into that, though, I wanted to thank you all for the great comments you've left the last two days, specifically the ones focusing on my blogging class and maternity leave. Since Luke and I leave for Michigan soon and I still need to wash up, I'm going to skip out on responding to everyone individually and address all the questions/suggestions right here.

Blogging Class

Since the class is offered through Saint Joe's English department, it has to be focused more on the trends and cultural ramifications of blogging and less on actual maintenance. I knew from the very beginning I'd require each student to have a blog, and there will most certainly be discussion of the elements of good design, how to navigate through the blogosphere, proper etiquette, the various technical aspects a blog can have (widgets, RSS feeds, Flickr, etc.), but I can't spend an entire class period on the ins and outs of html code or how to create a podcast, though I will do my best to point them in the right direction if they're interested in those things. The formation of blogging communities is also a topic I had planned to cover, especially since it'll be addressed in a couple of sessions at this year's BlogHer conference, so why I didn't include it in my list of bullet points I don't know.

Somebody asked about how much information I'll share about my own blog, and seeing as its existence is the main reason I was invited to teach in the first place, I've decided to let them know I have one. If they want the URL, I'll provide it, and I'll be happy to share my own experiences when an appropriate opportunity presents itself, but that'll probably be the extent of it. After all, a professor with a book in the works wouldn't pass out photocopied chapters to the class for review.

Maternity Leave

Your stories are continuing to blow me away, so keep them coming, if you can. The suggestion to get my deal in writing was a good one, but with the way the FLMA law is written, I'm automatically guaranteed my same position with my same pay scale and benefits. If they revoke that, they're breaking the law. I don't think they want to break the law. It's still a smart idea, though, and I may just do it, anyway.

The part-time issue is tricky. I could probably go that route and stay with the company but not in my current position as communications director, which means Luke would have to pick up the slack with a part-time job of his own, which means there's a good chance we'll have to foot the bill for some sort of daycare, which is exactly what we're trying to avoid. Plus, I don't think either one of our companies offers insurance to part-time employees.

My work week already has the potential to be pretty flexible, and that will continue once I return from leave. I'm strongly leaning towards cramming all of my hours into a four-day time span so I can enjoy an extra day at home with my family. Telecommuting is also an option, of course, but if I'm honest with myself, I'd probably be too distracted by my husand and the baby to get any actual work accomplished. It'll be fine every once and a while, but my gut is telling me that on the days I'm not at the office, I should be fully present at home.

As far as using vacation days to supplement my leave, I'm completely against it, at least for myself. I understand going that route if you can't afford to take the time otherwise, or using accrued time to extend your absence beyond the twelve weeks, but since Luke and I can prepare ourselves for my lack of income, you better believe every single minute of paid time off I have will be used before December 10th. I earned those days, dammit, just like I put in the time to be eligible for FMLA, and I will use them both the way they were intended. I don't know what it is about using vacation time to replace maternity leave that gets me so riled up. Probably the fact that companies make out waaaay better in that scenario than the employee.

(Take a deep breath, Frema. It'll all be OK.)

Let's move on, now, to learn more about two ladies who soon just might benefit from a little FMLA time themselves.

(OK, Katherine won't because she's only in high school, but that was a great segue, you have to agree.)

-------

CHAPTER NINE - MICHAEL

I was at home when Jenna stormed through the door.

"You're home early," I commented. "How was your presentation?"

"I don't know. Ask my former boss," she replied angerily, her eyes glassy. I went and wrapped my arms around her waist, and she tightened her arms around my neck. She gazed at me with sad eyes.

"I screwed up, babe." She started to cry, burying her face in my shirt.

[How sad is this marriage? Poor Jenna, so defeated, with no fight left, and poor Michael, so secretly macking on another woman. I received a comment on a post from part one earlier this week, on the one where Michael first professed his undying love for Jenna to the Internet, and I started to miss the old days where the biggest problem was a pregnant woman getting hit by a car. It's much more fun to write about the misguided antics of naive teenagers than the self-destructive ones of grown adults.]

"What happened?" I asked once she settled down.

"That bitch Agatha took my presentation, and that was it. Crawford canned me." [Don't you like how lil' Frema believed that all employees referred to their bosses as "sir" or their last names?] Jenna let out a shaky breath. "What are we gonna do, Mike? How are we gonna live?"

"Oh, we'll be fine. We can live in those brown boxes behind the garage, and we can spend quality time as a family picking through our neighbor's garbage." She smiled. "Don't be silly. We can live in the car." We both laughed.

"Don't worry, Jen. You'll look for another job, that's all."

"I guess." She pulled out of my embrace and put on a pot of coffee. "How come you're home early?"

[Do you know that question put this story at a standstill for at least a month? Lil' Frema couldn't figure out a plausible reason that Michael wouldn't be at work. Her brilliant solution was...]

"I didn't go at all. Wasn't in the mood."

Jenna cocked her head to the side, looking at me thoughtfully. "Yesterday?"

"Yeah," I lied. She kissed me. "I really am sorry about what happened."

"So am I."

We just stood there, and after a few minutes, I realized the silence we were experiencing was inappropriate and tense, and I didn't want to deal with it. I guided her to our room. "You've had a rough day, and I've got some things to do. Get some sleep and I'll see you at dinner." Her body flinched and her shoulders sagged. "OK," she said softly. She leaned against the woodwork, her back still to me. I let her go. Suddenly she looked very old. I tried to shake the image as I headed out the door.

[Man, my wife is such a drag. Does she think her life is a sequel to Working Girl? Maybe if she bagged cans at the local Pick 'n Save, she wouldn't have such tired skin and poor posture. My mistress is beautiful and smart and reflective and doesn't look a day older than 31. She isn't concerned with piddly matters like career advancement.]

[Also, mad props to TasterSpoon for planting the Working Girl reference in my head.]

* * *

Kay was dancing when I arrived at her house. She laughed as she grabbed my hands and spun herself around me. The radio was playing an old Beatles song. "Money can't buy me love, can't buy me love," she sang. I pulled her to me and dipped her.

Life was fun with Kay. We went out all the time, or when no one was home [like the night her son was raping my daughter], we stayed at her house. Just last weekend we put up her Christmas tree.

[Because baby Jesus loves it when adulterers come together to honor his birth with flashing lights.]

A slower song came on, and we swayed to the rhythm. [Name that tune! I vote for "That's the Way Love Goes" by Miss Janet Jackson. What? It could totally follow a Beatles song!] "You're not well," she said.

"No," I agreed. "But you help me a lot." I hugged her. "Thank you."

"Cass is mad at me. She says I'm breaking up your family."

[Cass! Kay and Cass! Michael, why have you allowed your throbbing penis to drown out the warning sirens that should be ringing in your ears?]

"My problems with Jenna started long before you met me."

Kay stopped and stood still. "This isn't gonna work, is it." It was a statement, and she sounded sad. "We're never gonna be able to be together without hurting our families."

"Don't say that," I cried, dismayed. "We CAN be together." I paused, then said slowly, "I think I'm in love with you. You can't leave me now."

She stared at me for a few moments, her expression unreadable. Finally she smiled and kissed my cheek. "Thank you," she said.

I carried her in my arms and went to her room. I laid her on the bed gently and held her. We were both a little nervous. Kay voiced our thoughts. "I'll understand if it's because of Jenna that you don't want to," she whispered, running her hands over my chest. I shook my head and kissed her passionately. She didn't pull away.

[Surprise, surprise.]

We came together for the very first time. She fell asleep in my arms, and I was happy.

CHAPTER TEN - KATHERINE

I clutched the toilet on my knees, feeling my breakfast leave my body again. I felt dizzy and weak, laying on the bathroom floor when it was all over. The light blinded my eyes, but I didn't bother to cover them. "God, if you're there, I need you now," I whispered.

The time between now and the rape was still kind of blurry. I went to school but couldn't concentrate. Shannon couldn't figure out my mood swings. My mother found a job at the local Burger King and was putting in tons of overtime, so although she noticed me, she didn't see me. [So deep!] Dad's been acting funny, too. He's never home, and he's always showering when he comes home. I think he's having an affair; I can tell Mom does, too, because she doesn't kiss him anymore when he comes home from work anymore. They never go out. It's like watching two strangers interact. My sister doesn't seem to care. Leigh's always out with her friends since no one's home to check on her. Lucas just looks confused. I do what I can, but I have my own problems. He watches reruns of 'Growing Pains' and 'Family Ties' and seems very, very sad.

[If ever a family belonged in the Dr. Phil house, it would be this one.]

As for me, I'm sick. Throwing up all the time, eating like a pig, crying constantly. It'd be easy just to deny it, but that would be stupid, and I'm not a stupid girl. [Except for when I missed seeing my own damn name on those hidden adoption papers.] It's better to face things head on. Those were the thoughts swimming in my head as I picked myself up off the floor, put on a jacket and headed to the store. I spent my last twenty bucks [!] on "First Response" and managed not to be seen.

[When I was a kid, I saw an after-school special on HBO about a girl who thought she was pregnant but was too embarrassed to pay for a test at the register, so she snuck one into her jacket and left a ten-dollar bill in its place. Is it wrong that I thought that was cool?]

At home, I checked the time. 9:30 A.M. Screw school. [Like father, like daughter!] No one was home to make me go, and my future was much more important. I read the directions. I had to pee on a stick (provided by the box, how thoughtful). [Honey, that stick is the test. Peeing on anything else just means you're weird.] A plus meant to expect a new addition. A minus meant better luck next time. Seeing as I had nothing left in my system, I couldn't see how I could manage to do the first part. After five glasses of OJ, though, I succeeded. When I finished, I set the stick on the bathroom sink. I didn't want to look. I couldn't be a mom; I was 15! How could I go to school? Have a life? Tell my parents? Face Kyle?

My body flinched when I thought of Kyle. Never had my heart ached for (and hated so much) one person. It was terrible. We ignored each other at school; I couldn't stand to look at him.

It was hard for me to breathe, and I shook uncontrollably, but I didn't cry. I hadn't shed a tear over anything that had happened, and for that I was glad. It made me feel more in control.

I needed someone. Shannon came to mind. I missed my best friend, but there was nothing she could do. I had to be strong for myself. I grabbed the stick and stared at it, long and hard. I blinked, shook my head and pinched myself, but the plus sign didn't change.

For the second time that morning [actually third, but who's counting?], I vomitted.

-------

I leave you with that pleasant image as I prepare to embark on my four-day vacation, with promises to eat lots of fudge.

Tragic Love Friday: Now with a little help from my friends

Man, my posting sucked this week, didn't it? Things were a little crazy at work as we wrapped up filming for our marketing videos, and in general I've been feeling pretty blue, which means events primed to turn on the water works range from being called "poochy" to scratching my right eye with my apparently-too-sharp fingernail, so blogging has fallen off to the wayside a little. I hope to boost my spirits over the next couple of days by splashing around in the pool. Of course, putting on the swim suit could be a traumatic experience as well. My life is so wild and unpredictable!

Since I skipped out on Wednesday's weight update, here are the numbers today:

WEIGHT ON 2/28: 135.6
CURRENT WEIGHT: 129.8
TOTAL PREGNANCY POUNDS GAINED: -5.8

This is the lowest recording I've seen since my Weight Watchers days, and when you remember that my normal weight is usually closer to 138, the loss is even more startling. It's still difficult to eat much in one sitting and even harder to muster up an appetite when I'm not sure what's going to agree with the baby. Freke might just be pickier than me.

Anyway, with all this fatigue and self-pity I've got going on, the idea of typing out TLF today almost pushed me over the edge. Luckily, I have fabulous readers who suggested I copy the pages and fax them over ASAP. That's exactly what Jennifer of Operation Pink Herring did, and I was happy to take her up on it. She even provided commentary, so this week you have the pleasure of Jenn's AND Frema's keen insights. Please remember to thank her in the comments for being so damn awesome.

Since Jenn did the honors, her comments will appear in the traditional bracket form. I'll pepper a few doozies here and there that'll be highlighted in green.

-------

CHAPTER EIGHT - JENNA CONTINUED

SLAM!

I jumped up as I heard the slamming of the front door. A moment later, Michael entered our room.  "Hi," he said, throwing his shoes by the bed. "Sorry I'm so late. I had parent conferences 'til nine, then I finished grading some papers."

I glanced at the clock, not looking at him.  "Until 12:30, Michael?"

"I hit the bar when I was done."

I studied my nails as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. "I heard about a fairly old invention the other day. I THINK it's called a phone, but I could be wrong." [Holy passive-aggression, Batman! With a side of cliché!]

"I'm sorry."

"Bullshit, Michael! You should have called! For the first time in weeks, I'm home on time, and you knew that! I thought we would catch up, make time for each other!" [Whoa, Jenna, since when does the entire world revolve around your Folgers account?] I picked up his shoe and threw it at him. [That will teach him to just throw his shoes by the bed! I bet Jenna has asked him a million times to put them in the closet.] He ducked, and the shoe broke a picture frame and sent it crashing to the floor. Our wedding picture. How appropriate.

[From passive-aggression to domestic violence in three seconds flat! Impressive.]

"Nice, Jenna. Very adult." He glared at me as I knelt down to pick up the pieces of broken glass. 

"How come just because you finally decide to come home at a decent hour, I have to be available to you? When was the last time you left work because I only had a half day?"  I didn't reply, just kept picking up the glass. When it was all picked up, I threw it away in the kitchen. Michael was holding my nightie when I returned. He no longer looked angery. "You had something planned, didn't you?" he asked softly. [It's my fault, baby. I made you do it. Please forgive me.]

"It was nothing important." [Aw, Jenna, don't say that.  False modesty doesn't become you.]

"Come on, Jen. Don't shut me out. Talk to me." [If my spouse had thrown an object at my head, I am not sure I'd be interested in talking. Way to be the bigger person, Michael.]  He sat next to me on the bed.

Frema says: Oh, Jennifer, he's only being a bigger person because the "bar" he "hit" wears a 36C bra.

"OK, fine. I made a nice dinner, dressed up a little. I thought tonight would be special. You not even calling kind of ruined it. That's all. No big deal." [When it's a big deal, I'll use a shotgun instead of a measly shoe!] I started to cry. He went to put his arms around me, but I pushed him away. "Don't try to comfort me or say that you're sorry. Just let me be."

"I can't. Let's fix this tonight. I don't want to go to bed angry." [Next time on Dr. Phil: how to repair your tattered, unfaithful marriage in one night! The new miracle technique all the therapists are talking about!]

Frema says: He just wants to have two pieces of ass in the same night.

"Angery?" I was amazed. "What in the hell have I done to make you angry? [Um, shoe? Flying through the air? Broken glass?] And who says you're sleeping in a bed tonight?"

"I'm ANGERY because you've let work push your family aside. I'm ANGERY because you don't talk to me anymore! I don't know what you're feeling or what you want. You need to help me out." [I love Lil' Frema's spelling of ANGERY. It's like anger, with a little extra GRRR.]

Frema says: Don't you hate it when your mistress acts like a better wife than your actual wife?

"By now, Michael, you shouldn't need my help! You should be able to understand me!" [Honestly, Michael. I don't even know why we paid for all those mind-reading classes!]

"I can't! You make it impossible!"

"Screw you!" I raised a hand to hit him. He stared into my eyes.

"Go ahead. Hit me if it helps any. I deserve it."

Frema says: You sure do, you bastard. Jenna still owes you from part one!

"Yes, you do." But I lowered my hand. "But it won't help." This time I allowed him to hold me as I sobbed. I didn't want to argue anymore. Besides, I needed to get to sleep as soon as possible so I would be alert for my presentation. [Husband beating is just too tiring. I'm sure Jenna can just find a nice dog to run over with her car on the way to work instead.]

I pulled myself together and forced a smile. "You can sleep in the bed." [But you have to take the side with the glass shards in it.]

"Thanks."  He kissed my cheek. "I'm gonna fix myself something to eat. Have sweet dreams." He added tentatively, "I'm sorry."

My eyes followed Michael as he left the room. Then I buried my face in my pillow. I was sorry, too.

***

I walked into work that morning with a confidence about myself I hadn't felt in a very long time. [Jenna, you have that husband-beating glow about you! What kind of face cream do you use?]  I knew things would work out fine. I'd get the promotion and raise, and I wouldn't have to work so much overtime and have more time to fix my marriage. Mr. Crawford, looking frazzled, approached me before I could even sit down. 

"Get the presentation, Jenna. They're here early."

"What?"

"You heard me. They had to come earlier. You're on in 5 minutes." [OK, if Jenna threw a shoe across the room right now, I'd understand. That totally sucks.]

My breath caught in my throat. This was it! My big moment! "Yes, sir," I replied. [OK, apparently I have a different outlook on moved-up meetings than Jenna/Lil' Frema does. Maybe that's why I'm not in charge of the Big Folgers Account.] My hand went under my desk. "Just let me get my case--" Nothing. I glanced under it. Zip.

I checked next to my desk, which, now that I thought about it, is where I left it. No case.

"Oh shit," I whispered. My hands felt clammy. 

"What's wrong, Jenna?" Mr. Crawford asked sharply. [Oh, nothing a few minutes out back with a baseball bat couldn't fix, sir!]

"It's not here, sir." I jumped out of my seat and started searching the room, every nook and cranny.  Gone. 

My boss caught on. "Maybe the janitor moved it into mine or Agatha's office," he cried and left to check. [One time, the janitor in my office threw away a bunch of papers I needed just because I stored them on the floor. I was pissed, too, Jenna, but you live and learn. Maybe if you smack around Agatha a little, you'll feel better.] At that moment, Agatha came in.

"Hello, Jenna. Looking for something?"

I glared at her, and that's when it clicked. I stood up off the floor. "You bitch." She raised her eyebrows. "Touchy. Is it your time?"

I slapped her hand, and she belted me right back. I stumbled backward. [But… but my husband never hits me back! This isn't a fair fight!]

"Watch your mouth," she snarled. "It's your attitude that'll screw you over, Jenna. YOU'RE the bitch. A kiss-ass, too, and a snob. Always rubbing it in who was higher. Well, I'm sick of it. Have fun explaining to Crawford. See you on your way out." She was about to enter her office when Crawford came out of it.

Frema says: I love that these women are fighting over which one is the more capable secretary. Agatha is the Amanda Woodward of administrative assistants!

"It's nowhere. Dammit, Jenna, they're waiting!"

"I don't need my papers that much. I'll do my best and--"

"And nothing! Paperwork's bull. They're here for the charts, diagrams, ideas! You've given me shit!" He lowered his voice. "I hope your husband has a very good job."

Frema says: Seeing as Jenna's been living and breathing this account for two whole weeks, you'd think Mr. Crawford would at least wait to fire her until after the presentation. Also, he must be too stressed to think straight, because one minute he deems paperwork worthless and the next he's canning her ass because she doesn't have any paperwork. Nevermind all the ideas are still in her damn brain and she could probably recite them in her sleep.

I got the message, and I didn't say a word as I walked out the door. [But I bet ya slashed a few tires on your way out of the parking lot, right? Atta girl!]

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Thanks again to all those who offered to come to my aid. There may come a time where I need to take you up on it.

Tragic Love Friday: Postcoital

Ah, Friday. Was there ever a better day?

This week has been long, what with staying late to oversee shooting for some marketing videos, lamenting over the unruly state of Luke's and my apartment, and following All My Children via message board threads until I was finally able to catch up on my recordings last night. But all of that is done--for now, anyway--which means it's time to prepare for the weekend, a weekend that will include a much-needed haircut, visits with family, and a Memorial Day that will probably be spent close to home. We're also waiting to see on a two-bedroom apartment currently on hold for us within our complex, and if all goes well, we'll be moving at the end of June.

Actually, no matter what we'll be moving at the end of June, but I'm really hoping this particular unit works out because it's in the building right next door and we wouldn't have to rent a truck.

But enough about boring old me. A girl was raped last week! How could the following chapter possibly live up to that?

The answer is it can't. But you'll read it anyway, won't you?

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CHAPTER EIGHT - JENNA

I rubbed my eyes and stifled a yawn as I started to put my work away. It was three o'clock on Wednesday morning, and I was dead tired. I had finally finished the Folgers presentation.

It had taken me a week to find all the materials and resources, and after that, I was always working on it. The result was two outlines, three poster graphs, one five-page report, and five poster boards that illustrated a way to advertise the coffee on TV. It was all extremely professional-looking, and I was proud. The presentation was scheduled for Thursday.

[If Jenna's done all this, what the hell was left for her boss? Who would've thought an administrative assistant with no college degree and no previous advertising experience would have so much responsibility on her plate? Girl needs to join a union, stat!]

Michael was awake when I crawled into bed a half hour later.

"What are you still doing up?" I whispered, fighting to keep my eyes in focus. He pulled me to him and kissed my neck.

"I've missed you," he murmured, burying his face in my hair. "You're never home."

[Yeah, Kay and I talk all the time about how my wife is a workaholic and never has time for her family. Bastard.]

"Neither are you," I pointed out, pushing him away. "Please, just leave me alone tonight, Michael. I need at least four hours' sleep for work."

"Jenna...." I gazed into his eyes.

[Did you realize that "eyes" without an "e" is "yes"? You learn something new every day.]

He seemed so sad, sad and lost. I could tell he wanted to talk, but my head suddenly felt as heavy as a truck. It fell on the softness of my pillow. "Tomorrow," I mumbled and closed my eyes.

* * * *

I felt exhilerated when I got to work that morning, presentation in tow. It was held in a special case so it couldn't get bent or dirty. I slid it next to my desk. Mr. Crawford asked to see it, but I refused. I wanted to see the admiration in his eyes when he saw it with the representatives tomorrow, for the first time.

[In real life, they would do a trial run-through, and the head honcho would not so much be taking "no" as an answer from his secretary, but hell, the only thing lil' Frema knew about advertising was what she saw on Melrose Place--in eight-second intervals, of course, because she always had to change the channel when a parent was suspected to be in the vicinity. At the very least, I'm thinking Crawford would have the secured the presentation in his office. But whatever.]

Only Agatha remained silent. I smiled sweetly at her that day when I left work with nothing to take home with me. Take that, bitch.

[Save them fightin' words for the tramp seducing your husband.]

At home, I was surprised to see Katherine was already there. [I have a daughter? Cool!] "Hi, hon," I said. She was in the living room on the couch, in a raggedy sweat outfit, and bundled in blankets. Her hair was stringy and dull-looking. She was staring at the TV, which only showed static.

[The only piece missing from this Cry For Help puzzle is a gun to her temple and a note stapled to the collar of her shirt.]

Her eyes met mine briefly, then turned back to the TV screen. "Hello, Mother."

My daughter was scaring me. [You fucking think?!] "How was your day?" I finally asked. No reply. "Answer me, Katherine."

"My day was lovely, thank you for asking." Her tone wasn't sarcastic; it was flat, with no emotion. I didn't know what to do, so I touched her cheek. It was burning. I quickly pulled away. "Kath, get rid of those blankets. You're hot enough."

"No. I'm cold."

"Do you think you're getting sick?" I asked her. Her eyes locked with mine.

"Yes, I think I'm sick. My body feels heavy and I'm sweaty all the time. My eyes sting, and it hurts right here." She put a clenched fist over her heart. "It hurts a lot," she whispered and closed her eyes.

"Oh," I breathed, relieved now. "I bet it's the flu. You'll be OK, Kath, but I know that doesn't help. You can stay home from school tomorrow if you don't feel better tonight."

"I'll go to school," she replied, all emotion leaving her voice again. "Don't worry about me. I know you're busy."

"OK, hon. Just rest," I told her, leaving the room before she could reply.

[Parenting test number 389,234: failed!]

I checked the contents of the pantry, and decided to make a pot roast for dinner. I wanted tonight to be special. It'd be the first time in two weeks I'd have a nice, sit-down dinner with my family. I also wanted to be with Michael, just the two of us.

After I had the roast, rice and vegetables started, I made sure the house was clean. "Kath," I called, "come keep an eye on the food while I take a shower."

"OK."

I took a long time, soaking first in a perfumed bubble bath, and then rinsing off in a shower. Once I got out, I put on a robe and went through my wardrobe. I ended up putting on a blue silk shirt [why is lil' Frema so obsessed with silk shirts?] and a pair of jeans I'd bought a few weeks ago. I curled my hair and left it loose. A little makeup prettied my face, and I was finished.

"You look real nice, Mom," Katherine commented.

I smiled. "Thanks. I hope your father agrees with you."

Lucas and Leigh [I have twins? Awesome!] came home an hour later. Luke whistled and Leigh winked at me. "Please don't aggravate your father tonight," I said. "Let's act like a family."

Two hours later, dinner was ready and Michael still wasn't home. [Geez, what is it now, like nine o'clock?] The twins were hungery, and my oldest was acting like a zombie. A half an hour later, the four of us sat down to dinner. Oh, well. At least I can catch up with my kids.

[Offspring: the best consolation prize you'll ever have.]

"How's school, guys?" I asked.

"It sucks," replied Luke.

"Watch your mouth," I snapped.

"Mr. Allan was fired for touching Annie Marshall's chest," Leigh said with a mouthful of food.

"Oh God! That poor girl!" I cried. She shrugged. "Annie's a slut. She probably asked for it."

[My goodness, have Jenna and Michael raised polite, socially responsible children or what?]

"Shut up, Leigh," yelled Katherine. "That girl didn't know what was gonna happen. He made her trust him!"

"You don't even know her," Leigh replied, "so stop yelling at me."

"I don't have to know her. It's people like you who make things worse. He got her, so now she's a slut. Everybody's talking about her, even her friends. How would you feel?"

"Kath," I said softly, "leave your sister alone. It's not her fault." Leigh was wiping tears from her eyes. Katherine closed up and picked at her food.

[Um, how about saying those same words for Annie Marshall so your youngest daughter doesn't grow up blaming the victim?]

"I think I'm gonna try out for a sport next year," Luke said, to break the silence I think.

"Good. I think you'd be good on the soccer team," I offered.

"I'm not hungery anymore," mumbled Kath. She cleared her plate and I heard her door slam a moment later.

"I'm going out," declared Leigh, sniffling. "I'll be at Claire's house."

"Fine." I closed my eyes and gently massaged my temples. [Parenting is, like, so hard!] "You can go out, too, Lucas." They were gone in a flash.

[I hope they remembered to grab a tooth brush, because at this hour, they may as well spend the night. Also, at twelve years old, I NEVER informed my mother that I was "going out." That would have earned me a raised eyebrow and a guarantee I'd pass the evening watching Family Feud.]

I cleaned the kitchen quickly, waiting for Michael to come through the door, or at least call. Nothing.

He's probably tied up at school with conferences, I thought at 8:30. It's happened before. Even though dinner was a flop, the night could be a success. I smiled to myself as I put on a short black lace nightie and turned down the bed.

I watched TV. I thought about my presentation. At 10:30 I got tired of thinking and changed into a tee-shirt and sweatpants. I rid my face of all makeup. I left the nightie on the floor where Michael would be sure to see it. I closed my eyes.

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So, nothing terribly exciting today, but you did get a chance to see the Spencer family in all its alarmingly dysfunctional glory. Where's Dr. Phil when you need him? Or hell, even Jerry Springer?

Tragic Love Friday: Parental discretion advised

Before I get into the rationale behind the advisory, first I thought I'd make up for my lack of posting this week and do the "Eight is Enough" meme as suggested by the lovely Fraulein N. Don't say I never gave you anything.

Eight Random Facts About Frema

1. Last night, Luke and I watched two more episodes of Big Love courtesy of Blockbuster Online, and with only two more to go until the season finale, there's been nothing so far to indicate that Nicki is anything more than a sneaky bitch. You guys done tole me I'd find at least a trace of likeability in her character by now. Where is it? As it currently stands, Barb is my favorite wife because she's the only woman in that marriage whose behavior isn't remniscent of a seventeen-year-old's.
2. Sometimes, when I'm bored, I like to make my thumbs kiss.
3. I recently had my first dream about life post-partum, and in it, Freke was a boy. Is God trying to tell me something? Did anybody dream about their baby's gender and have it be true?
4. The dishes I mentioned in Wednesday's entry are still sitting in the sink.
5. This morning I flossed for the first time in a month. My gums were so surprised they bled all over my teeth.
6. Luke and I still have yet to order any professional prints from our wedding day. Last year.
7. Tomorrow I plan on treating myself to my first salon pedicure since the wedding.
8. I don't really care for the name Nancy, but Luke and I have tossed it around as a potential girl's name because we love the idea of using a moniker derived from a literary character.

I'm supposed to tag eight people for this, but I'm feeling really unmotivated today, so do it if you want to do it and let me know so I can pop in and read all about your weirdness.

Now, regarding TLF: By now it should come as no surprise that lil' Frema had one heck of an imagination, fueled by the likes of V.C. Andrews, nonetheless. So when I say that today's entry is graphic, I'm not kidding around. If at any point you feel like you have to stop reading, go ahead. However, at the end I'll have some thoughts regarding the pivotal scene, so I'd appreciate you sticking it out. Either way, though, I won't be offended.

Are you gripping your desk in excitement, poised on the edge of your seat? Good. Let's go.

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PART TWO

CHAPTER SEVEN - KATHERINE

As it turned out, we ended up taking a cab to the dance. Kay was out, and Auntie (Kyle's aunt and I had quickly grown close, so I felt comfortable calling her that) had to work. I didn't mind.

[My dad drove a cab for his father for a few years when I was a kid, but the first ride I actually remember happened when I was coming off a late shift at Navy Pier and the idea of spending forty-five minutes in public transit and walking through the door at midnight was so unappealing that I shelled out twenty dollars for a six-minute trip down the expressway. And it was worth every penny.]

To my surprise, the school's gym was set up really great, with the video screen near the wall. Things were in full swing by the time we arrived. "Are you ready to work that body of yours?" Kyle asked. He did a little shimmy. "I'm pretty good."

[Who else is singing, "People don't you know / Don't you know it's about time / Can you hear the jammin' pumpin' / While you taste a piece of mine?"]

"I'll do my best to keep up," I replied.

Kyle really was good; very good, and I did have to work at it to keep up, but I managed. [At this age, all of my dance moves were variations of Around The World--you know, where you move your feet in the shape of a triangle? I also did a lot of shoulder-shrugging and "air-pushing" hand movements, like I was trying to propel myself off the floor. But didn't every teenage girl?]  After an hour, I had to stop. Miraculously, a slow song came on, and Kyle led me to the middle of the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and my arms locked around his neck. I laid my head on his shoulder.

"Katherine," he whispered. I looked up into his eyes, and that was answer enough. He bent his head and I closed my eyes.

Kyle's kiss was unexplainable. It was better than sunshine. It was sweet and passionate and tender. [And also against God's plan!] I never wanted it to end.

When it was over, we just stared into each other's eyes. "I've wanted to do that since I first saw you," he said softly.

I smiled. "I hope it was worth the wait."

"It was worth everything."

We kissed again, and somehow we ended up outside the school. With our arms around each other, we wandered down the street and came across a park. Kyle made himself comfortable against a tree. I snuggled up next to him. Together we stared into the sky.

[OK, maybe it's due to the fact that I went to a private, all-girls school, but there's no way we would've been allowed to ditch a social function so early. Administrators were stationed at all the doors to prevent any sneaking off.]

"Why do you think that people think that stars determine your destiny?" I asked.

He thought for a moment. "I guess because we can't control the stars. They do what they want and we just watch. That's how destiny is."

"What do you think the stars have planned for us tonight?" I dared to ask.

[When I was fifteen, I asked my first boyfriend (yes, Nick) what he wanted to think about when he was lying on his death bed, and he said, "Loving you." Then we made out in my parents' stairwell. Good times.]

"Let's find out," he breathed in my ear, and kissed it. Then he kissed my neck. I felt his teeth sink into my skin, and I moaned. [Um, ouch?] He came down on me as I landed on the grass.

I didn't feel real as we kissed and touched each other. I wanted to protest as Kyle pulled my sweater over my head and held me, but I also wanted him to continue. Voices were screaming inside that I wasn't ready, this was wrong. As Kyle removed his jeans, I thought of the picture of the young girl and her baby. The girl had looked happy, yet wistful. What would life have been like for her without a child to weigh her down?

I wouldn't be put in her position. Forcefully, I pushed Kyle off of me before he could take off my pants. We were both breathing hard.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and there was a sharp tone in his voice. That's when I knew, more than ever, I had made the right decision.

"What we're doing," I answered, my head spinning. "We've only known each other for a couple of weeks. This is way too fast, and I'm not ready." I made a grab for my sweater, but Kyle grabbed my wrist roughly.

"That's it? You kiss me, you tease me and now you're not ready?" Kyle's voice was rising. "You know how I feel about you. I wouldn't hurt you."

I was scared. "I want to go home, Kyle. Now." When he didn't reply, I got up and started to run. I heard Kyle's footsteps behind me. He was faster than I, and he jumped on me. We fell to the ground. I tried to crawl out from under him, but he was also stronger. He turned me over so that I was facing him. I was shaking, and I felt like I would vomit. I wish I had. Then maybe he wouldn't have gone on to do what he did.

"Help! Help!" I tried to scream, but it only came out as a whisper. Kyle slapped me and then clamped a hand over my mouth. Using his other hand to hold my wrists above my head, he continued where he'd left off before. My pants had slid down to my thighs when Kyle had jumped on me, and my suspenders had been removed in our moment of passion, so it was easy for him to tug them off of me with his teeth. He was working his way down my body.

I shut my eyes, tears streaming down my cheeks, and I couldn't stop trembling. Please, God, kill me so I won't feel anything ever again, I prayed silently.

God must have had the day off, because Kyle entered into me with the force of a wild animal. I felt numb. Even when he got off of me and went to gather his clothes, I made no attempt to leave. I wiped my eyes and curled into a fetal position. A few minutes later, he returned, not only with his clothes, but mine. He threw them down in a heap next to me. He knelt down and started to whisper in my ear. "You bitch. You fucken tease. Thought you could screw with me without screwing me? You're just like the others," Kyle snarled. "You're--" His voice made a funny noise and he couldn't continue. Cursing to himself, Kyle tossed something in the grass and stormed off.

[If Adult Frema ever thought about rewriting any of the excerpts featured in our tragic love story, it would so be this one.]

Slowly, slowly I sat up. I put on my clothes after checking for rips and tears. My pants had rips, and my white sweater was covered with dirt, but that was it. I tidied myself up as best I could and hoped that my parents would be asleep. As I got to my feet, my hand closed around something. I gazed at it, confused and angery. It was a 20 dollar bill.

"Go - to - hell!!!" I shouted, ripping it to shreds. Then I shivered and sighed. It was going to be a long walk home.

[Oh, dear readers. So much to say about an ultimately horrible experience for these two kids. Reading this as a grown woman, I'm smacked in the face by all the flaws in the writing. Lil' Frema went for a stereotypical, violent rape that was definitely not in line with Kyle's character. If I could do it over, would I keep the rape as part of the story? Yes. But Kyle would never have slapped Katherine, not ever, I know this in my bones, and he never would have said such horrible things to her afterwards. My budding-adolescent self just wanted to get the biggest reaction out of her peers, and this was the way to do it. That doesn't excuse Kyle's forcing another person into sex, but.... I don't know. If I were to write this today, the scene would be much more subtle; perhaps Katherine would never let on that she was so uncomfortable, or Kyle would have misinterpreted her feelings and proceeded anyway. What can I say here that doesn't make me sound like an asshole? I don't know. I just don't know.

Also, when passing these notebooks around to my friends at school, they read the money thing as Kyle paying her for sex, when I assumed it was obvious he was giving her cab fare. How did you see it?]

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Next week will be easier on your stomach. I promise.

Tragic Love Friday: The stars at night are big and bright (clap clap clap clap) deep in the heart of Incest

Save your gasps, Kyle and Katherine don't do it--today. I just really wanted to plug that song in my title.

I also just kind of want to get on with this installment without a lot of chit-chat, because I stayed up until two o'clock in the morning working on my first wedding anniversary present for Luke, and now the baby hates me. Honestly, kids are so demanding.

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CHAPTER SIX - KATHERINE

"So he actually asked you today?" Shannon cried.

"Yup. I thought he'd never get up the nerve. Figures he'd ask me the day of," I said, but I didn't mind.

It took a while, but Kyle finally asked me to go to the school's video dance that night.

[Please tell me my high school wasn't the only one to sponsor these. I still remember hopping around the gym to that masturbation song from Green Day in my oversized flannel and generously hairsprayed bangs.]

"You really like this one, don't you?" Shannon asked.

"Yeah, I really do. Kyle's like a kid and a player rolled into one." [And you know what they say about players. Don't hate, participate!]

"Well, I hope it works out."

"Are you going tonight?" I asked. She shook her head, and there was a sad look in her eyes. I felt guilty, knowing I'd neglected our friendship since I met Kyle. Impulsively I gave her a hug.

"I'm gonna get you someone to loosen you up," I promised.

"Are you saying I'm too uptight?" she said, her voice challenging.

"No...but you do kind of walk like you have a pine cone stuck in your butt," I teased. [It's OK, Shannon. Just blame it on rheumatism, like Julie Andrews did in The Sound of Music.] She laughed and waved as her bus pulled up. "Call me. I want to know everything," she called, sticking her head out the window.

"Shannie, it'll be 11:00 p.m., and it's a Monday night. Your parents'll freak."

"So don't ring so loud. [?] And I hate it when you call me Shannie!"

On my way home, I began to get excited. If things went well tonight, I had a feeling that, by tomorrow, Kyle and I would be going out. He'd be my first real boyfriend. I'm not the greatest in the guy department.

[I hear you, girl. I didn't get my mack on until I was 15, but hey, the guy was a senior in high school, so that scored me some extra coolness points, right? So what if he weighed eight pounds and had a cold sore?]

[Oh, man, that is so not an image you want to recall when you're trying to keep down the waffle you had for breakfast.]

When I got home, I was surprised to see my mother there. She'd been putting in long hours at work for some presentation she was making on Friday.

"Hi, Mom?"

"Huh? Oh, hi Kath. How was school?" she asked, rummaging through her briefcase.

"Fine. You're home early."

"Just for a minute. My boss wanted to see my progress on the presentation, and so I came to pick it up."

[Because people always store important work projects outside of the office.]

"Mom, Kyle asked me to the school dance. It's tonight. Can I go and be home by 11?"

"Kyle?...Oh, the boy you're tutoring. How are you getting there?"

"His aunt. Dad met her," I added before she could ask.

[I seriously doubt Cassie would serve as a co-conspirator in this incestual charade. Lil' Frema, what were you thinking? Also, what is Kayla thinking, permitting her son to escort HIS SISTER to an after-hours social function with limited adult supervision?]

"On a school night?"

"Please?"

Mom sighed. "Fine. You can go." She checked her watch. "Now I have to go or my boss'll be spitting nails. Tell the twins there's money for pizza on my dresser, and that your father's going out and won't be home 'til late. Have fun tonight." She hurried out the door.

[Oh, Jenna and Michael, please produce more children who you can ignore and leave alone to fend for themselves, with only a pizza to console them!]

I was on my way to my room when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Katherine? It's Kyle."

"Hi. What's up?"

"I forgot to tell you what time I'm gonna pick you up."

I laughed, and the two of us worked out the details. We talked for about a half an hour, until finally I said, "If you want me to look pretty tonight, mister, you gotta let me go."

"Missy, you couldn't look anything but pretty. I'm glad you're coming with me tonight," he added suddenly.

"Me, too. Bye," I whispered.

"Bye."

"Hang up now!"

"You first."

I laughed. "No."

"Yes!"

"Bye, Kyle," I said and hung up. As soon as I did, Lucas and Leigh came through the door.

"Mom and Dad wont be home til late. There's money for pizza on Mom's dresser. I'm going out," I told them and finally made it to my closet. After a few minutes, I decided on a white knit short sleeved sweater with black suspenders and black and white striped dress pants.

[Shut up. She looks cute, dammit!]

At four-thirty I started getting ready, and an hour later I was done. Kyle wasn't coming until six-thirty, so I had time.

I tried reading a book, but I gave up after 20 minutes of being on the same page. I filed my nails and flossed. I practiced smiling in the bathroom mirror.

[God, I love this girl. She's just so damn NORMAL.]

Ten minutes before Kyle was due, I remembered that I needed perfume. I smelled too...innocent. Maybe a new scent would make Kyle think I was more sexy than sweet. [Honey, you're wearing slacks to a dance. I'd start there first.] My mother had the perfect kind - SENSUALITY, hidden from me because she knew I loved it so much. She'll forgive me this once, I thought as I entered her room. I found it in a shoebox in the corner of her bottom dresser drawer. I dabbed some on my wrists and on my neck. I was about to put it back when some papers and a photograph caught my eye. I scanned the paper on top quickly. The word 'adoption' came up frequently, and I saw my parents' names. Were they thinking of adoption? I kinda figured out that they were having trouble conceiving, but I didn't know they were planning on adopting. I personally didn't feel comfortable with adoption. Could a parent REALLY love a child that wasn't flesh and blood? I didn't think so. Not the same, anyway.

[Katherine, you truly are Kayla's daughter, because only one of her offspring would neglect to find her own name on a set of adoption papers. Also, Jenna? Mad props for stashing a perfume you know your kid lusts after in the same place you keep confidential papers.]

I put the paper back in place, not bothering to finish reading it. Mom and Dad would tell us when they were ready. I laid my eyes on the picture. It consisted of a girl and a baby. The girl had blond hair, so bright it was almost blinding. I couldn't really see her eyes, though. They were half-closed and looking downward at the baby in her arms. It was a pretty little girl, who looked very much like the older girl. She gave the camera a toothy grin. I was going to examine it closer when I heard a knock at the door. Kyle.

[Surely Jenna and Michael took tons of pictures of Katherine the moment she became theirs. How could she not recognized her OWN DAMN SELF?]

I threw the picture in the box and slammed the drawer. I gazed at myself in the mirror and gave my reflection the thumbs-up sign.

[cough DORK cough]

I felt breathless with excitement as I went to answer the door. When I opened it, I melted.

Kyle looked wonderful. He had on crisp black jeans and a white silk short sleeved shirt. His hair shone, and fell over one eye. He handed me a single rose that had a violet ribbon tied around it. He grinned as I stared at the rose in my hand.

"I just happened to pass a flower shop on the way here, and I thought I'd look around. It looked so lonely, and I know you love violet, so..."

"It's lovely," I cried. "Leigh!"

"Yeah?" she asked, coming into the kitchen.

"Put this in a vase for me, please?" I handed her the rose, but I took the ribbon and tied it around my wrist.

Gazing at Kyle, she nodded.

"Shall we go, madam?" he asked, offering his hand. I took it willingly and nodded.

I was sure the night would be magical.

END OF PART ONE

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Who among us can't remember what it feels like to be a teenager and go on a date with a person who makes you tingle all over? That's how I felt about senior prom. And it was magical.

Too bad it won't be for Katherine.

Tragic Love Friday: Where the grass is green and the single moms are slutty

Today, for the first time since Easter, Luke and I are going to take off for the weekend to visit our families. While part of me is excited to be around people again, the other part is already lamenting not being able to flop around on the couch in my pajama pants falling in and out of sleep during episodes of Murder, She Wrote. I'm at 10 weeks today and still not feeling any better, so the car ride should be interesting. The last time I threw up en route was at the age of nine, when my sister, next-door neighbor, and I overdosed on Flinstones Chewables (yes, I knew better, but they tasted like candy!) and had to go to the hospital to get our stomachs pumped. Hopefully, this trip will be vomit-free.

(Incidentally, I'm taking Flinstones Chewables once again because I can't keep the prenatals down, and man, do kids have effed-up notions about what qualifies as candy. Blech.)

Anyway. On to TLF.

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CHAPTER FIVE - KAYLA (CONTINUED)

When I woke up, it was four-thirty. Time to get ready.

First I hopped in the shower. Then, in my robe, I looked through my closet for something to wear. I decided on a long-sleeved red shirt that almost reached my knees, black stretch pants, and black ankle boots. [You must forgive Kayla's choice of ensemble. Even though it was 1994, lil' Frema still had a special fascination with all things eighties.] I pulled my hair in a clip, but left some strands loose to soften my face. I put on a little make-up.

"Do I look alright?" I asked my son nervously.

"Yeah, Mom. Where ya goin'?" Kyle grinned. "Or should I say, who's the lucky guy?"

"Just a friend, nosy," I said with a smile, and ruffled his hair. "Did Katherine go home?"

"A while ago.... Mom, how do you know when you're in love with someone?"

"Is there someone in particular you're thinking of?" I asked. [It couldn't possibly be Katherine, even though you hang out all the time and just did this weird creepy portrait of her that you won't even show your own mother, because after all you guys are just good friends and God isn't so cruel as to allow siblings to be attracted to each other!]

"I just wanted to know," he said, and looked at me earnestly.

I grew thoughtful. "Well, you know you're in love when you smile when the person's name is said. When you see her, you're stomache feels fluttery and you want to vomit, but it's a good feeling. Everything looks like you're seeing it with someone else's eyes. You learn new things about yourself because she'll point them out to you. You'll feel so happy, you won't know what to do with yourself." I squeezed my son's hand. "Love is like nothing else in the world, Kyle. I can't wait for you to feel it."

[Thank you, Kayla, for your deep insights. I guess my relationship with Luke is a sham, then, because I haven't smiled at the sound of his name since 2001, back when I was scheming to date him.]

"Thanks, Momma," he whispered, and to my surprise, gave me a fierce hug. Then he went to his room.

Momma. He hasn't called me that since he was seven years old. I sighed. How I missed having a little baby in the house. If only--

DING, DONG. [Look! Foreshadowing has come a-knocking!]

Michael. I grabbed my jacket and purse and opened the door.

"Hi," he said. He looked great in jeans and a tight white t-shirt. He smelled of aftershave.

"Hi, yourself," I said, smiling. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know. We'll figure something out in the car." [What happened to the movie they talked about seeing in the grocery store? Ugh, these two are killing me.]

After we drove around for a while, we decided to go to "Garry's," the local bar.

[Always an appropriate destination for a married man and a single mom.]

The place had a pretty good crowd. There was an empty table in the corner in the back, but I wasn't ready for a heavy discussion yet. I wanted to have fun. I looked around and saw a pool table that nobody was using.

"I play a mean game of pool," I hinted.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, grinning.

"If you want it to be," I replied. He was already walking over to the pool table.

So, for a while, we played pool. I beat him easily. It was fun, and it helped us to loosen up with each other. After the game, we had a drink at the bar. We were quiet for a while, and I decided to break the ice.

"Tell me what's on your mind," I said.

"It's not just one thing," he replied. "It's everything."

"Talk to me," I whispered.

[Oh, gag me with a spoon.]

He sighed. "I don't know where to start. At the beginning, I guess. We were young when we got married, and thought we could handle any problems. The last year hadn't been great for her, and she began to close herself up. I didn't know it, then. Love made me blind to it. I thought that my love for her would change her. We had Katherine from the very beginning of our marriage, and the twins came later.... We were happy, so I couldn't figure out why she'd wake up and cry the whole night. She got the shakes often. Sometimes she'd stay in our room with the door locked for days."

I brushed tears from my eyes. I had done those same things so many times. [Apparently there was something special in David Donovan's sperm that had the ability to reduce lovers to muted versions of their former, colorful selves. But Michael's can produce twins. Who's to say which is better?]

Michael noticed my face and grabbed my hand.

"Jenna's better now," he said. "It doesn't happen that much anymore."

"She might be sick," I said, a lump in my throat. "Did you get her help?"

He shook his head. "She won't go to counseling. She doesn't need it, anyway. All she has to do is open up to me. She wont, and I cant try."

"Cant or wont?"

"Both. God, Kay, it scares me that I don't love her the same."

"Love doesn't stay the same," I replied. "It's supposed to change."

"For the better, though. I'm not even sure if what I feel is love or not." Michael smiled. "I'm not giving you a chance to talk, and I want to get to know you better."

All this time, I was aware that he hadn't let go of my hand.

[Now that I've adequately portrayed myself as a noble, wounded husband, wanna fuck?]

"There's not much to know," I said lightly. I slipped my hand out of his and the sleeve of my shirt went up. Michael's eyes widened as he stared at the faint scar around my wrist. The area was black and blue. I reddened and bowed my head. "It's not recent," I said softly.

He grabbed my hand again and stood up. "Let's get outta here. I know of a place where we can go." I nodded.

[You wanna be where you can see our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name.]

Fifteen minutes later, we came to a stop. It was a vast field, a blur of green that took my breath away. There was a small brook that seemed to go on forever, and a hill with flowers everywhere. "It's beautiful," I breathed. He grinned and grabbed a blanket from the truck.

"You can find these types of places anywhere in Iowa, but you should see the way the sun sets over here. It's like nothing else in the world."

I had said that same sentence earlier to Kyle earlier in the day, when he'd asked me about [being in] love [with his sister].

Michael spread the blanket out near the brook's edge and we sat down. He looked at me intently, and with concern. I knew he was waiting for an explanation about the scar.

"Life's not easy for me," I began. "Every morning, when I wake up, I hate the idea of going to work, being with people who mean nothing to me, worrying about bills and my son. Knowing that when the day is over, I have to sleep so I can get up and do it all over again. Living isn't fun. It's just something that I do, without any feeling. It eats at me from the inside.

"A few years ago, it was hell. I was fired from my job, so Ca - my sister supported us. Kyle had to be taken out of private school and had to go where the teachers were high and gang fights were normal during lunch. We couldn't afford to pay all our bills; soon our water was shut off. Sometimes we had to drink toilet water and boil it to make sure it was sterile. We--" I had to stop for a minute until the lump in my throat went away.

[You need a moment, too, don't you? To laugh your ass off. Go ahead. Lil' Frema doesn't mind.]

Michael was breathing heavily, and it sounded as if he were holding back sobs. [Not exactly the one-night stand you were hoping for, huh, buddy?] Closing my eyes, I went on.

"It was too much for me. I felt trapped inside myself. I had to get out." I gazed at my wrist. "I didn't slit them both, just made this one more of a gash. When I saw the blood, I felt at peace for the first time."

"Who found you?" he asked, grabbing my hand again. [Boy, he's touchy-feely this evening!]

I shuddered and whispered, "my son. He was only 11 years old."

[I can just imagine the Mother's Day card Kayla got that year. Dear Momma, thanks for botching your suicide attempt so I could stumble across your near-lifeless body when I had to go number one. That image will be burned in my brain forever. Love, your psychologically damaged son.]

Michael pulled me to him, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me. "I wish you hadn't done that," he said.

"You didn't know me; anyway, it doesn't matter now."

"Yes it does. Everything matters."

[You see, my marriage has a special clause allowing for affairs with women whose emotional impairments are equal to or worse off than my wife's. Jackpot, baby!]

We gazed into each other's eyes.

"What happened to your husband?" Michael asked.

I smiled sadly. "You know the saying, 'three times a bridesmaid, never a bride'? That's me." I laughed softly. "I don't think I was meant to be married. Too many limitations."

Michael shook his head. "No. When you're married to the one you love, there are no limitations." [Well, except for sleeping with other people, but who follows that one, anyway?]

"Are you?" I asked. "Married to the one you love?"

"It doesn't matter tonight." He tilted my face and kissed me, at first tenderly, then with more passion. We fell down, my mouth on his neck and his hands in my hair. For some reason, David popped into my head, along with the day I found out I was pregnant for the first time. [Hello, Random. We meet again.] I pulled away.

"This is too fast," I told him, "and you're too confused." He nodded, and we went back to his car.

"Are you mad?" I asked as he drove.

He smiled and shook his head. "I hope you're not mad at me." He cleared his throat. "I want to see you again."

"OK."

Soon, he was pulling into my driveway. [Your mom pulls into my....oh, nevermind. I think we did this one already.] He walked me to my door.

"Jenna's staying late at the office tomorrow. Can I see you?"

I could already see a pattern: sneaking around, an hour here and there. But I didn't care. [I'm a dirty whore!] "Pick me up at five," I answered breathlessly. Michael kissed me. "See you tomorrow."

I didn't go inside until his car was a tiny dot on the road.

-------

So. Now we know a little bit about how Michael, Jenna, and Kayla spent the time between part one and the sequel. We also get a crystal-clear picture of just how little Jenna is regarded by her husband and former BFF. However, in Michael's defense, it sounds like Jen's gone batshit crazy. It's a miracle he hasn't cheated on her before! And Kayla sounds desperate for someone to love her. Girl's had a hard-knock life herself.

As the story goes on, these and other characters will go on to do horrible things. But just like in traditional soap operas, I like to think there are redeeming qualities in each person that make you understand where each one of them is coming from.

Or maybe I'm the Queen of Denial.

Tragic Love Friday: Now with visual aids

Last week, when I made note of the fact that I planned on creating an organizational flow chart of the various relationships taking place in TLF, I had no idea it would inspire one of my loyal, Mac-savvy readers to do the same. Behold the glory.

At his request, I didn't question David about the length of time it took him to create this wonderously concise, definitely-not-work-related masterpiece. Instead, I simply thanked him for his efforts and died a little inside, because I knew my own attempts to visually bring this story to life wouldn't fully capture the tragic detail that his clearly does. In fact, the project was so overwhelming for me that the only way I could wrap my head around it was to break it up into two separate diagrams, which themselves are only redeemed by off-the-cuff, slightly morbid freehand art.

 

Much love, Mary Katherine. See you at tha crossroads. David, God bless him, is probably biding his time in purgatory for the actions of his philandering penis.

In this first bit of creative expression, you'll immediately notice the absence of both Michael and Cassie, the characters who overall received the least amount of air time in part one, mainly because it was easier to focus on those who actually produced significant offspring (Lucas and Leigh are really just eye candy) than try and represent each family circle as it changed throughout the story.

Wait, it gets better:

Aren't you impressed with my ability to subtly convey the vulnerability and depravity that is prison gang rape? Not only that, but I also worked in the My So-Called Life version of Kyle! Yeah, I'm pretty proud of myself, too.

Since I stayed up until almost two o'clock in the morning working in Photoshop to make these charts happen, and since it's seven-thirty and I'm up already, just so I can have TLF posted before I dash off to work for what I already know will be a half-day because holy crap, I am so tired, let's cut to the chase and find out what's in store for our dear, underemployed, emotionally naive Kayla.

-------

CHAPTER FIVE - KAYLA

After a few days, my family settled into a comfortable routine. Everybody did their own thing [did their own sister] until about six, and we all ate dinner together. My job as an assembly-line worker was going well, and Cassie was a cashier at the local grocery store. The best thing, though, was that Katherine came home with Kyle almost every day after school; they also talked on the phone. I was in contact with her, and my children were great friends. I was happy. Except for one thing: I couldn't get Michael out of my mind.

I had no idea he would turn into such a good-looking man! [What else did you expect? He's Dean Cain, for cryin' out loud!] It took my breath away when I thought about it. Otherwise, he was the same person he was when we were younger. Sweet, patient... [The man who saw my water break in a prison cell...] I couldn't explain it.

He was hurting. I could make that out with our two brief encounters. This child problem with Jenna was tearing him apart, and his marriage wasn't benefitting, either.

I wanted to see him again. I needed to, for reasons that I didn't try to understand. [So I'm guessing you could've benefitted from a few more years in therapy, then.]

One day I did, quite by chance. It was on a Saturday afternoon at the grocery store, and at first he didn't see me. I was unsure if I should approach him, but I needn't have worried. Michael turned around and spotted me. His face broke into a smile and he waved. I took that as a cue and came over. "Hi, Michael," I said. "How are things with you?"

"OK, I guess," he replied. "It's good to see you, Kay."

"Same here."

We both stood awkwardly, trying to make conversation.

"How are things with your wife?" I asked. "Better, I hope." [Said with her fingers crossed behind her back.]

"A little." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'd rather not talk about it. Hey, do you have any plans for the day?"

"No. Why?"

"I feel like I have to get out today, or I'll go crazy. Are you up to it?"

"Yeah, sure," I answered, trying not to sound excited.

"I thought that tonight we could see a movie, and then just take it from there."

[So really you don't want to do anything during daytime hours. "Tonight" is not daytime, Michael! But I think we can all agree that Michael the Sequel isn't fit to shine his own part-one shoes. All ass, no class.]

"Perfect." I held back a smile, but only an idiot could miss the added sparkle that I knew could be found in my eyes. [Kayla, have you met Michael Spencer?] "Why don't you pick me up around six?"

"Great. See you then." Michael started to leave, but then turned back to me. "Thanks, Kay. I really need a friend tonight."

"Well, you've got one." I hurried away; I'd be with him in a few hours!

[This exchange is so wrong for countless reasons. First of all, Michael just made a date with another woman in a public place, in broad daylight. Second, he's taken his marital problems and used them as a platform from which to garner sympathy from a single woman, which he eventually used to FINAGLE A DATE. Third, Kayla is well aware of her own history with Jenna, a woman she eventually came to trust and respect enough to raise her first biological child; now she wants to make a fool out of her by going after her husband, "for reasons she isn't trying to understand"?

These people are despicable, and I love them for it.]

I finished my shopping and went home. Kyle was there with Katherine. She was sitting on the windowsill, smiling softly, not moving. Kyle sat on the floor in front of her with a sketchpad. She started to talk, but my son shushed her. "You'll ruin the pose if you move! Hi, Mom."

"Hi, kids. Kyle, how long has Katherine been in that pose?"

"For about an hour," he replied, gazing at her face. "I think it's really coming along."

The way he looked at her momentarily gave me a chill. [AS IT DAMN WELL SHOULD, WOMAN, PUT A STOP TO THIS INCESTUOUS TRAIN WRECK RIGHT NOW.] "Really? Let me see." I reached for the pad, but Kyle held it to his chest.

"No! It's--not finished," he cried, and wouldn't meet my eyes.

[How much you wanna bet he's got sketches of his favorite sexual positions in there?]

I bit my lip. "OK. Well, I'm going to my room for a while."

I closed my door and sat on the edge of my bed. "They're just friends; good friends," I reminded myself, and shook my head as if to clear it.

I heard a knock, and Cassie came through the door.

"Hey, Kay, I just wanted to see what you had planned for dinner.... Is anything wrong? You look funny."

I laughed nervously. " I FEEL funny. Oh, Cas!" I jumped up and grabbed her hands. "I...I have a - date!"

My friend smiled. "That's great! Who is he?"

I bit my lip and turned my back to her. "With Mi - Katherine's dad."

[Smooth cover, Kay.]

Cassie's face lost all its warmth. "Katherine's dad is married to Jenna! You're going out with Michael!"

[Gasp! Close up. Fade to commercial.]

I grew serious and sat on the bed again. "I know.... It's not REALLY a date, Cassie. He just needs someone to talk to tonight."

"Maybe." Cassie's voice turned soft. "What do you want to come out of this night?"

I sighed. "I miss men, Cas. I haven't had a date in ages, and I don't think I've been in love since I was with David. And then, after the rape...I was devastated. Too scared to let a man touch me." I gazed into Cassie's eyes earnestly. "Michael's a good man. Hasn't changed at all."

[Well, except for the married-with-children thing.]

"No, Kayla."

"Things will be fine. I'm an adult and can take care of myself."

"I don't think so. You're getting in over your head. Any fool just has to look at your face to know that you don't plan on talking the night away!"

She had hurt me. "Thank you for understanding how important tonight is for me," I retorted angerily. "Dont slam the door on your way out."

She had her hand on the knob, then turned to me. "I'm not trying to hurt you. Look at yourself! Ask yourself why you're so eager to be with a married man, who happens to be Katherine's dad & Jenna's husband? It's not normal, or OK."

When she left, I bowed my head and cried. Then I fell asleep.

[Mad props to Cassie for telling it like it is. Who knew the nutjob would go on to become the town sage?]

[Also, because I love to analyze the lives of fictional characters, I wonder if Kayla's desire to be with Michael stems from the part of her that wants to reconnect with Katherine. Maybe in her own sick way, she feels like this will bring the two of them closer together. Or maybe she's just horny as hell and enjoys a good challenge. Who's to say?]

-------

Hang on until next week, kiddies, because gasp! The date!

Also, as an FYI, we're currently on page 48 in the first of three part-two notebooks, which means there's another ninety-eight pages to go before...well, I don't know. The end of TLF? The start of a prequel, as Pink Herring has cleverly suggested? What do you think? Would TLF be a lost cause without the charm of lil' Frema? Would this be a unique opportunity to bring on guest writers and get new perspectives on the characters? Or should we just let them ride off into the sunset and (try to) move on with our lives?

Tell me your thoughts. I really want to know.

P.S. I created a TypePad links list to provide easy access to each diagram (it's the third item in the sidebar here), but for some reason the links are bad. Can anybody tell me what I'm doing wrong? 

P.P.S. Fixed! Thanks, KaitKait!

Tragic Love Friday: In which I wish for a personal assistant

...because then SHE would have the tedious job of typing in chapter four, and I could just go into the draft and add lame witticisms when appropriate. Truth is, I'm feeling a bit better today--I actually scarfed down four squares' worth of pizza last night and didn't vomit once--but Luke and I had dual appointments with the dentist this morning, me for the delivery of a permanent crown to finally replace the molar I had pulled almost three years ago, and Luke for the extraction of all four wisdom teeth, so we spent all morning dealing with that. He was a total trooper and went through the surgery without any major problems, and afterwards we paid a visit to Super Target to stock up on ice cream, pudding, and yogurt. It's going to be a fun weekend, for both of us.

I thought about typing in TLF last night, but mainly all I did was pray to keep my prenatals down so I wouldn't be plagued with guilt over the fact that I'm sustaining a human life primarily on toast, lemonade, cereal, and grilled cheese. No, crackers do not help; no, ginger ale does not help, and yes, The Girlfriends' Guide to Pregnancy was spot on when it warned against taking vitamins with citrus juice.

But enough about me. Michael and his dim-bulb-yet-very-hot self have some explaining to do.

-------

CHAPTER FOUR - MICHAEL

The ride home with Katherine was quiet. She sensed something was wrong, I knew it, but chose not to say anything until I pulled into the driveway.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just been a long day, and I'm tired."

"No," she insisted. "It's something else. You can tell me. Maybe I could help."

"I don't think so, but thanks for offering."

We went in the house, and I glanced at my daughter. The happy look that had been on her face when I'd picked her up was gone. Now she looked hurt and confused. "Since you don't need me, I'm going to bed," she mumbled. She slammed the door behind her.

[As a teenager, I never offered emotional help to my parents. Mostly I just complained about not being able to watch Melrose Place or make out with my boyfriend on our front porch past nine o'clock.]

I sighed and put on a pot of coffee. I should have been going to bed. I'd need my rest for tomorrow. Tomorrow Jenna and I were going to see her doctor, Dr. Peters, to see what was keeping her from getting pregnant. [Surely it couldn't be my Herculean twin juice!] During our last visit, he mentioned the fact that having a miscarriage, then having twins put a lot of strain on Jenna's body, and that that could play an important role.

"Dear God," I whispered, "don't make us pay for our sins of yesterday."

I wanted more children; so did Jenna. I brought up the idea of adopting another child, but she was against it immediately. She said that it would take too long, and that we still didn't even tell Katherine the truth, it would cause too much paperwork, couldn't we just stick to having another one from each other?

I didn't understand her doubts, but I left her alone. In more ways than one.

[No wonder she's not pregnant. Just saying.]

I love my wife more than anything, but something's wrong with us. Our crazy days left us a while ago. I was scared that the magic [kidnapping?] that brought us together was gone. We no longer went to romantic restaurants for candlelite dinners. No more picnics alone on Saturday afternoons. The passion in our lovemaking was discintegrating. I didn't understand when it happened, but now that it's happened, what could be done to stop it?

[Stop trying for a baby and enroll yourselves in couples therapy?]

I closed my eyes and thought about my wife. Not as an adult, but as a 17-year-old girl carrying another man's child. She'd been my best friend. She was going to marry David. She was happy. Now she's paying for it.

[In that last paragraph, a more mature lil' Frema added a big question mark in the left margin. My sentiments exactly.]

The last time we'd visited David and Mary Katherine's graves was about four years ago, when the whole family flew to Chicago to visit Jenna's parents. [Why not yours?] She'd wanted to go alone. "I need to make things right," she'd said. She said that same thing two weeks ago when she mentioned telling Katherine the truth about Kayla. One more problem to worry about.

I went to bed with a heavy heart.

***

The next day was Friday. The two of us missed work and drove to Dr. Peters' office. Jenna was nervous. "What if he didn't get the tests back? What do you think he'll tell us?"

I said nothing, just squeezed her hand.

We didn't have to wait long for the doctor. "Come in," he said.

We sat down. "What's wrong with me, Dr. Peters?" Jenna asked.

"Well, at our last visit, I mentioned that the strain your body's had is an issue. Being pregnant again could be too dangerous, even fatal." Jenna nodded.

"What can be done? Anything?" she asked.

"You're not listening. You or the baby will have a 50/50 chance of death if you get pregnant again, and the chances of that are slim. Your body can't handle it."

[In other words, I don't have anything medically sound to tell you. That'll be two hundred dollars.]

"I see. Thank you for your time," Jenna said briskly. She stood to go. "Come on, Michael."

[Before you comment on lil' Frema's diagnosis, remember her age, people, and the fact that her mom popped out five children in twelve years. She was clueless about IUI, IVF, surrogates, etc., though how awesome would it have been to add a substitute incubator into the mix of Crazy?]

Once we were in the car, I tried to reassure her. "We have three children now. Some couples don't get any their whole lives. We don't need more kids, anyway. Now we can focus on each other for a change."

[That last line reminds me of that one scene in Look Who's Talking when Mikey meets his biological father for the first time, and George Segal doesn't want anything to do with him, explaining to Kirstie Alley, "I've raised my kids," and Kirstie Alley says, "Raised them? They're eleven and nine!" Because, you know, with twelve-year-old twins and a teenage daughter, Jenna and Michael can finally wipe their hands of this whole parenthood thing.]

She didn't talk, so I went on. "I've got an idea. How about we go away this weekend? We can go to a hotel. No kids, no work, just us."

"I don't think so," she replied, staring straight ahead. "I've got a lot of work to do on the Folger's account; I've only got two weeks to finish it in. In fact, why don't you drop me off at work?"

"But you've got the whole day off," I protested.

"Please, just do it, Michael."

Ten minutes later I was dropping her off in front of her work. She forced a smile. "I'll see you later."

I was hurt. She was hurt. Why couldn't we open up to each other? [How can we be lovers if we can't be friends?] I reached out my hand to her, but she was already gone.

For a while I drove around aimlessly. That got boring, so in the end I took my wife's lead and went back to work. I didn't leave until four-thirty.

I was walking to my car when I heard someone yell "Dammit!!" I looked up and saw Kay Hart five cars away, kicking her wheels and cursing. She noticed me and smiled. I walked over to her.

"Hey, there. What's the problem?" I asked. She shook her head and clenched her fists.

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong, except I'm dead tired, half of my things have been lost or broken because of the move, I'm late and now my tire's flat and I don't have a spare."

[In parentheses, lil' Frema wrote, "Mention why she's there," which is an excellent point, considering Kyle is a sophomore in high school and Michael teaches seventh-grade biology, whatever the hell that is.]

"I hate it when that happens," I said, and she laughed. "I can't replace your stuff or turn back time [or even put two and two together to realize you're the same woman who tried to kill my wife fifteen years ago, even though "Kay" and "Kayla" are about as different from each other as, well, "Mike" and "Michael"], but I can give you a ride home."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I owe you my life," she said as she climbed in.

"No problem."

"Is something the matter?" she asked five minutes later.

"Does it show?"

She nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." She nodded again. "I understand. You don't know me."

"Thanks for understanding."

"You're welcome. I know what it's like to hurt and not be able to talk about it. It's like trapping yourself." Kay gazed out the window. "In a cage," she whispered."

[Random and creepy. Glenn Close vibes, anyone?]

"This is a cheery conversation," I said.

"I hate sarcasm," Kay replied. "I see it as something that shows the opposite of what you're feeling. It's unhealthy."

"Forgive me; I've been feeling unhealthy," I said in an angry tone.

"I'm a good listener. Talk to me. When you're done, I'll smile and won't say a word, unless you ask me to. Let yourself go."

"You've got nerve. I don't mean to be rude, but you're sounding too much like a therapist."

Her voice softened. "Sorry. I guess everything I picked up from therapy wasn't meant for everyone."

[She must be talking about her years in the Sanitarium, because no way could she and Cassie afford rent, private schooling for Kyle, and a shrink.]

I thought for a moment. Then I said, "My wife and I had an appointment with her doctor. She can't have any more children."

"That's tough," Kay commented. "How does that make you feel?"

[What happened to "I'll smile and won't say a word"?]

"Sad. I wanted a little boy. So did my wife."

[Because children are only valuable in matching sets.]

"She must feel horrible. I would."

"Yeah, well, she won't tell me how she feels, so I don't know."

"I'm sorry," she said, touching my arm briefly. "Try talking to her, Michael. She's probably hurting so much that she's going to block it out altogether."

[One of my biggest pet peeves is when someone tries to analyze another person's pain. So presumptious. FYI.]

I nodded. "Yeah. Jenna--my wife--has a wall built around her. I thought that I'd gotten rid of it when I married her, but now it seems like it's going up again." I smiled faintly. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. For some reason, I feel like I know you."

[First of all, Michael is dumber than my keyboard. Second of all, I hate the wall analogy, too. We've all been kicked in the teeth, so to speak. Nobody has a monopoly on pain. Everybody hurts. Now get over yourself.]

She smiled, too. "Maybe you do," she said.

[!]

I pulled into her driveway and killed the engine. "Thanks for listening. It helped a little."

"Anytime. If you need me, you know where to find me." She hopped out of the car. "Thanks for the ride."

I watched her until she went inside. Only when I saw her close the door did I start my engine and pull away.

[Your mom starts my engine and pulls away!]

***

When I walked through the door, the kids and Jenna were eating dinner. Jenna stood up when she saw me. I walked over to her and held her tight as she laid her head on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, babe," she whispered, and immediately I felt guilty for talking about her to Kay. [As well you should, you bastard. Never talk smack about your spouse to a member of the opposite sex.] Even if I did feel better afterwards.

"Don't be," I said. "We'll get through this together."

"This is so sweet and romantic, even if you're old," Leigh cried teasingly.

"Get some, Dad!" shouted Lucas.

"Luke!" Jenna cried.

"Come on, guys," Katherine said. "These two want to be alone." She pretended to pull them out of the room by their ear.

Jenna wrapped her arms around my waist and fit her head under the crook of my neck, her eyes following the kids. "We did good, didn't we, Michael." It was a statement, not a question.

I thought back to when we were 17, when Jenna was engaged to David, when she was pregnant with his baby. I thought back to when I thought love was only an idea, not a feeling. Was love discintegrating back to only being an idea for me?

["What's up with all these unfinished flashbacks?" laments lil' Frema in the margin.]

Aloud I said, "things could be worse." I had the feeling that things would be.

-------

I'm working from home today so I can keep an eye on Luke, which means I'll probably slack off for the rest of the afternoon and rush to play catch-up on Sunday. Gotta love office jobs.

Tragic Love Friday: Never have I been more delighted to write about incest

After two consecutive days of baby talk, I am ready to change the subject. So I won't tell you that Luke and I looked at a model of a two-bedroom apartment within our complex last night to determine if the extra space we'd gain would be worth the aggravation of moving. (Turns out? It is.) I also won't tell you that this kid doesn't even have eyeballs yet and already I've received a bill from my ob/gyn, to the tune of two thousand dollars. That doesn't even include the cost of the actual hospital stay! Is that going to be another couple of grand? And why, oh why, do they want me to begin payment next month? Don't they know I have a whole seven and a half months to meet my deductible?

Like I said, lucky for you I won't be talking about all of that. Today is the day we get up close and personal with Kyle: Kayla's rape baby, Katherine's half-brother and love interest, and a complex figment of lil' Frema's way-out-there imagination. Pull up a seat, kiddies. This one's long.

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CHAPTER THREE - KYLE

Katherine caught up with me at my locker before homeroom.

"I just wanted to know if you still wanted me to come over after school today," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. She looked kind of nervous, which surprised me - nobody ever gets nervous talking to the boy; it's usually the other way around.

[Right. Girls never get tongue-tied around guys. Not even when one tries to grab your hand on the bus ride back from an eighth-grade field trip to Cook County Jail and everyone laughs so you push him away and bury your face into your jean jacket the rest of the way home.]

"Yeah, sure," I said, then laughed. "I'm having a little trouble already. And when we're done, you could help me unpack. There are so many boxes in my house, you have to jump hurdles over them just to get anywhere."

"Well, since you said please," she answered sarcastically. "Meet me by my locker after school."

"OK," I said,  but she didn't hear me. She was running up to her friend Shannon.

[A few TLFs ago, somebody asked if I had someone in mind to "play" Shannon, but the truth is, I don't. Maybe Jordin from this season's American Idol? She's perky enough. What do you think?]

There was still 15 minutes left before the warning bell rang, and I had nothing to do, nobody to talk to. The first couple of weeks in a new school were always the hardest for me. I stuck out like a sore thumb, being all by myself. It was embarassing. So I did what I did at the other schools. I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall.

I had many moments in my life where all I wanted to do was dig a hole in the earth and bury myself. This was one of them.

I hated moving with all my heart. I don't think I've lived in the same place for more than two years since I was five years old. There was never time to make friends, for my mother always found something a little bit better, somewhere else. When I was lucky, my mom would find a place in the same state. I had never had a best friend, or a girlfriend, except for a few short flings. I was usually the kid in the back of the class whose name nobody remembers. Sure, I was a good for a laugh, and the girls loved me, but when it came to having an actual friend, I had none.

[Don't you just want to pull this kid out of Kayla's house and into foster care? An apple could have parented him better.]

I blame all my problems on my mom. Aunt Cassie mostly just follows my mother's lead when it comes to moving, so I can't be mad at her. Mom's the one who decides that.

[Oh, Kyle, "Aunt Cassie" just feels guilty because she convinced your mother to run over a pregnant woman!]

My mother. Sometimes I can't decide if I love her or hate her; I guess both. I know she sacrificed a lot to have me. [But not her virginity! Good thing she and David had at least one romp before he died. Can you imagine if the rape had been her first sexual experience? Not that Kyle knows she was raped, of course. But I digress.] Her parents cut her off from the moment she told them she was pregnant with me, and my father left her a few months later and she never saw him again. Mom doesn't like to talk about him very much, but she said he was a good man and I shouldn't think bad things about him. She said he loved her very much, and he was just too scared to be a father. My father's name was David.

[So it's not that he was too scared; he was too dead!]

RIING! The warning bell interupted my thoughts of the past, and I unlocked the stall door. "Here I go again," I mumbled and went out to face another day.

[Geez, with all that time he spent contemplating the trials and tribulations of his complicated existence, he could have just masturbated.]

* * *

I waited impatiently for Katherine by her locker at the end of the day. What if she had changed her mind? I stood against the locker and closed my eyes.

"Are you gonna move, or do I have to throw you out of the way?" My eyes opened and I saw Katherine holding her books and smiling. I stepped out of the way. "It's about time," I mumbled. "What took you so long?"

She raised an eyebrow. "If I had known you were so impatient I wouldn't have agreed to tutor you."

"Sure you would've," I said.

"How do you know?" she asked, but not in a cocky way, which made me answer her seriously.

"You can always tell by a girl's eyes if she likes you or not," I said, "and your eyes say that you like me."

She smiled. She had a really pretty smile. Not dazzling or sexy, but soft and sweet. "What if I told you that I had a head cold that made my eyes look glassy?"

"I'd say you're lying."

"You'd be right," she replied, grinning. "I don't know you, Kyle, but I'd like to if you'll let me."

[And to think lil' Frema thought this dialogue was so snappy. So clever!]

I didn't answer her. Finally I said, "you look like my mother."

"Really? In what way?" she asked.

"Your hair and eyes. If your hair was brown, you'd look almost exactly like her."

[Dun dun dun!]

Katherine smiled that sweet smile again and slammed her locker shut. "Let's go."

We didn't talk too much on the way to my house, which was pretty far from school. As I unlocked the front door, Katherine looked around the area.

"It's nice out here," she commented. "Clean and peaceful. Like a hide-away from the world." I nodded.

"That's why Mom chose this place. She never liked living in the city."

We dumped our bags by the door, and I gave her a brief tour.

"Are these your parents?" she asked, pointing to a picture on the wall. In it, my mom and dad were dressed in a dress and tux. They were gazing into each other's eyes and were holding each other close. Mom said it was taken at a dance during sophomore year. [So I take it by her choice of decor that Kayla never plans on inviting Jenna and Michael over for dinner?] I nodded.

"You're mother's a blonde,"  Katherine said softly.

"Yeah. She dyed it when I was little, so I never actually saw her with it."

"Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

She said this next part hesitantly. "What happened to your dad? Is he dead?"

I tried to appear calm, but my back involuntarily stiffened. "No. He's alive." She just nodded [lots of nodding today!], but I saw the pity in her eyes.

"That's my aunt Cassie," I said quickly, pointing to another picture. "You even look a little like her."

"Maybe I'm a distant cousin," Katherine joked.

[Did anyone hear that crash of lightening overhead? Just me? Hmmm.]

"I hope not," I replied shyly.

[Yet another reason to hate his mother.]

"We better get started," she said awkwardly, hiding her face behind her hair.

We went to the kitchen table and got to work.

"So what was your school in California like?" she asked while looking for a notebook.

"Alright. I wasn't there for too long, so I didn't really meet anyone. And nobody liked me anyway."

"I'm sure you're wrong about that."

"I'm not. I made the kids feel dumb because I skipped a grade."

"You're too hard on people." Katherine smiled. "But I'm glad you mentioned that part about skipping a grade. I thought you were too young to be a sophomore in high school."

I opened my mouth to answer her when I heard the door open and shut.

"Kyle? Are you there? Sorry we're late, sweetie, but your aunt and I stopped at the store for a few things--" She stopped short when she saw Katherine. I thought she would drop the 2 bags she held in her arms. Slowly, very slowly, she walked toward us and put down her bags. Smoothing her hair with one hand, she forced a smile.  "I didn't know you had company."

[I didn't know my long-lost daughter would be doing geometry at our kitchen table. You know how that goes, right, son?]

Katherine's face turned bright red. "I'm sorry. I was just getting ready to leave--"

"No, no, don't go," she replied hurriedly. "Stay. You can stay for dinner."

Katherine looked at her hands, and I gave my mother a questioning look. Why was she babbling like this?

"I'm sorry." Mom smiled again, this time a real smile. "I'm going on like a madman, and I haven't even introduced myself. I'm [YOUR MOMMA!] Kay."

"I'm Katherine," Katherine said, and I saw her relax.

"You kids keep workin'. I'm going to help Kyle's aunt with the rest of the groceries." Before she went back outside, she stared at the two of us and quickly wiped at her eyes.

"Don't pay attention to her," I said. "My aunt's much more sane." She laughed.

[We're laughing, too, aren't we?]

However, today she wasn't. We heard the door open and shut, and my mother and aunt Cassie, huddled together, slowly came into the room. Mom was beaming, and Aunt Cassie had a faraway look in her eyes. Then she mumbled something under her breath that I couldn't hear.

"Hi, Katherine," Aunt Cassie said. "I'm [YOUR!] Kyle's aunt, Cassie."

"Hi," she said, and then glanced at me uncertainly.

"Katherine's my tutor," I explained to them. "She's helping me catch up on what I've missed so far." Come on, guys, I added silently. Do or say something to make her think we're not crazy.

"That was a nice idea," Mom said. "We don't want you to fall behind. I am glad, though, that you've made a friend in the process." She gave Katherine another smile. "It seems like we kinda pounced on you, honey."

"We didn't mean to," Aunt Cassie added. "It's just that you're the first friend Kyle's brought home, and we got curious."

"That's OK," Katherine said. Her eyes lit up and she relaxed. "My parents act the same way." She extended her hand to my mother's and shook it. Mom seemed surprised but pleased. Then she shook my aunt's hand.

"It's so rare to see young people with manners these days," Aunt Cassie murmured as she took the bags and started putting the contents in the pantry.

[When I was your age, killing someone in cold blood landed you six years in jail. Now? Maybe a slap on the wrist. Kids get away with everything these days!]

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Mom asked warmly.

"Yes, Ms. Hart, but I'll have to check with my parents first."

"The phone's in the livingroom, and please don't call me Ms. Hart. It makes me feel like an old fart. Call me...call me [MOMMA!] Kay," she finished.

"OK, Kay. Thanks."

Katherine went to use the phone. I pulled my mom aside. "Why were you and Aunt Cassie acting so weird? I felt so dumb out there."

Mom gave me a hug. "I'm sorry. It's complicated why I acted the way I did. You'll understand later on."

I groaned. "I hate it when you say that." She didn't answer, just ruffled my hair.

"I'm glad you're my son, Kyle," she said softly. "Remember that." Then she went and got a pizza out of the freezer.

[In addition to spitting out random bits of dialogue, Kayla's also a gourmet cook! Kyle is so lucky to have her.]

Katherine returned a minute later. "I can stay. My dad'll pick me up in a couple of hours."

[Better hide that prom picture, "Kay"!]

"Well, you guys finish whatever you were doing, and I'll call you when the pizza's done."

[Um, they were studying at the table, but whatever.]

The two of us agreed not to work on anything related to school. We settled down on the couch and turned on TV. The only decent show was BEAVIS AND BUTTHEAD.

"Your mom's nice," she commented.  "So's your aunt."

"They acted kinda crazy tonight, though."

"That's OK." She was quiet for a minute, and then let out a small yawn.

"You have a nice yawn," I said. She laughed. "Really? I think you're the first person who noticed."

Things were going good. By this time I knew that I liked her a lot, and that she wasn't like the other girls I've been with. She seemed innocent, unsure of the situation. "What are you thinking?" I asked her.

[Come on, guys never ask that. Especially teenagers.]

"That you're more experienced with girls than I thought."

"Is that bad?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. It just makes me feel like you're in control."

"Is that bad?" I repeated, scooting closer to her.

"Only if you make it bad." Katherine let out a shaky breath. "Don't make it bad, Kyle."

"I promise to be gentle," I said lightly and grabbed her hand. She closed her eyes and I tilted my head.

"PIZZA!" Mom called from the kitchen. Katherine jumped up, and I ran my fingers through my hair. She shook her head and smiled. "Nice try, Hart," she whispered and walked past me into the kitchen.

Dinner was kinda fun, even with my aunt and mother there. I kept flirting with Katherine in little ways, and we even played footsie under the table. Once I said, "Please pass me the salt," while raising my eyebrows and rubbing my foot against her under the table. She laughed so hard, soda came flying out of her nose, and she started to cough. Mom had jumped up. "Are you OK, hon? Can you breathe?"

Katherine had just nodded, laughing the whole time.

Now her dad was on his way to pick her up, and Mom and Aunt Cassie were saying their good-byes.

"Thanks for dinner," Katherine was saying. "You have a really nice house."

"Anytime hon." Aunt Cassie smiled and slowly walked out of the room.

Mom stuck around though. "I'd like to meet your father, Katherine, so I can tell him what a fine daughter he's got. Have you got any brothers or sisters?"

[Sneaky bitch. As if her PI didn't already tell her everything.]

She nodded. "One of each. They're twelve-year-old twins, Lucas and Leigh."

"You're lucky," I said. "Over here, there's only me."

"Then you should thank your mother. The twins can be a real pain."

The doorbell rang. Mom opened it. [Opened the doorbell?] "Hi. You must be Katherine's dad. She's a lovely girl. Come on in." She gazed at him, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You can call me [ANYTHING YOU WANT, TAKE ME NOW, MICHAEL] Kay."

"Hi, Kay. I'm [TOO STUPID TO REALIZE WHO YOU ACTUALLY ARE] Michael." He smiled, but he looked tired. Tired and sad. "Katherine says you just moved here from California. How do you like it here so far?"

"I love it. We're gonna be staying here a long time."

There was a moment of silence, then Katherine put on her jacket and grabbed her bag. "Thanks again for dinner, Kay. I'll see you tomorrow, Kyle." She flashed a smile and winked at me. Then they were gone.

I stretched and yawned. "I'm goin' to bed, Mom. G'night."

"Good night, Kyle. I love you." She tried to smile, but her face crumbled, and she started to cry. Hard. Her whole body shook. I went over to her and hugged her as she buried her face into my shoulder. "Mom, what's wrong? Mom?"

She sniffled and took a breath. "Nothing. Everything. It's hard to explain. I promise, though, I'll tell you when I'm old enough to understand." [You like how lil' Frema mixed that up a bit?] She wiped her eyes and kissed my cheek, and went into her room, closing the door behind her.

For a number of reasons, I didn't fall asleep that night for a long time.

-------

This weekend I'll be staying at Saint Joe, volunteering for a few events and meeting with my professor friend, Maia, so we can talk about the fate of my blogging class this fall. There's a chance the college will let me wrap it up by Thanksgiving. Keep your fingers crossed, will you?

Edited to add: Why didn't anybody send me an e-mail pointing out the inverted words in my title? "Never I have been more delighted"? Geez Louise. See if I correct typos for YOU again.

Tragic Love Friday: This One's for Jesus

It never entired my mind that the next installment of Tragic Love Friday also coincided with the day Jesus died on the Cross. Now, I didn't really forget, obviously, since I've been working so hard on my Lenten commitments, but when Rachel asked via Gmail chat if I'd be rescheduling the post for Monday, you know, in honor of the "holiday," I laughed off her poignant question, because really, as long as we keep away from the blogs at 3:00 p.m., our spiritual karma will be just fine.

When I worked at Saint Joe I had Good Friday AND Easter Monday off. Now that I'm part of the for-profit grind? Nothing. Luke is kicking back, though, so I'm taking a half-day so we can drive to Chicago before dinnertime. We'll hop over to Merrillville on Saturday afternoon and return to our humble, rented abode before Easter nightfall. Just in case you care, which you probably don't, you're just wondering whether today is the day that Katherine and Kyle do it, that is, if they DO do it, which I am so not telling you. (Today is not that day.)

I'm feeling a little kooky this morning. Buck up and bear with me.

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CHAPTER TWO - JENNA

I was at my desk finishing up some paper work when my boss, Mr. Crawford called me to his office.

"Have a seat, Jenna," he said. "I've got some news to discuss with you."

"Is it good?" I asked, smiling. [You saucy minx, you!]

"Oh, very good. I think Charleston Advertising is on its way to landing its first major account!"

That certainly was good news. Charleston Advertising was a fairly new company, only five years old, and wasn't really recognized as trustworthy and worthwhile. [So you work for them why, exactly?] Landing a major account could put us on the map.

"That's great!" I cried. "Who's checking us out?"

[C'mon, do I even have to say it?]

"Folger's Coffee has been looking around for some fresh advertising, and right now, they've got their eye on us." Mr. Crawford could hardly stay still, he was so excited. I understood why. After two years of being his personal assistant, I knew that his supervisors were constantly after him to land a worthwhile account, and for the past few months, they were hinting that if Crawford couldn't do the job, someone else would be found. Even though my boss could be extremely unbearable, he was basically a good man with a family to support.

[OK, in my line of work, I've seen managers fired after five MONTHS of non-performance, but what can I say? Lil' Frema hates to put people out of work. Killing off innocent babies is fine, but contributing to America's poverty population is not an option. For now.]

"Three representatives will be coming from Chicago in two weeks to hear a presentation from us," he continued. "From that presentation alone, they will decide if they'll allow us to advertise their coffee."

"Only two weeks? We'll need more time!" I protested.

"Well, a lot of time is something we don't have, Jenna. That's why I need you." He saw the nervous expression on my face and added, "It wont all rest on your shoulders. Agatha Hardy will help you." Agatha was the secretary, who basically did all the things that I couldn't do or finish. We didn't get along very well--she wanted my job, and I didn't like anyone who posed as a threat to my position. Agatha definitely did.

"I'll be writing down all kinds of facts and figures about Charleston Advertising, and you'll be transferring all of it into the form of graphs and charts. We also need to come up with how we can present Folgers as the best brand of coffee." [So in Cedar Springs, Iowa, entry-level employees can perform the duties of a copywriter, graphic designer, and marketing consultant. No pesky edumacation required!] His voice was firm as he added, "I cannot afford to not land this account. If I don't, I'll be waiting in the unemployment line. If that happens, I wont be waiting alone. I don't think I need to stress that, do I Jenna?"

"No, sir," I replied. I knew what he meant. If he gets fired, I get fired.

"Well, I guess that's it. Agatha knows all this; I filled her in earlier. She says she's happy to help."

[Why would you give the 411 to a secretary before your own right-hand (wo)man?]

I'll bet she is, I thought, but I didn't say anything. With a fake smile, I said good-bye to my boss and went to collect my things.

As I was waiting for my bus 10 minutes later, I thought about the Folgers account. I couldn't screw this up. Michael worked as a teacher at the local elementary school; not exactly a great-paying job. Our incomes combined were enough to let our family live comfortably, but if one of us lost our job, money would be very tight. I grimaced, remembering a time last year when the teachers at Michael's school went on strike for a month. The kids had had to walk to school because we couldn't afford bus fare. [For shame! The cancellation of basic cable service can't be far behind.]

A half-hour later, I was home.

I kicked off my heels and went to my room to change into an old sweat outfit. I rid face of make-up, then took out my contact lenses and put on my wire-rimmed glasses. Only then did I feel more comfortable. [On a completely unrelated note, the great Jerry Seinfeld once said that wearing sweats is a sign that one has given up on life. FYI.] I put on a pot of coffee and started flipping through the paper, bored and tired as hell. I hated coming home to an empty house.

It wasn't until 5:00 that someone walked through the door. No, not walked, floated through the door. Katherine threw her school bag on the floor and twirled her way to me. "Hello, Mother," she sang and kissed my cheek. She started to hum as she kicked her bag across the floor until she reached her room. Then she slammed her door, and I heard her stereo through the walls.

[If I kicked my backpack across any surface at all, I'd have gotten popped in the mouth. But whatever. ]

"Somebody's in a good mood," I mumbled, smiling. At that moment, the front door opened again, and the twins walked in. Lucas went for the fridge, and Leigh headed straight to her room. "How was school, Luke?" I asked.

"OK. We started sex ed today." He grinned. "I'm learning a lot so far."

I laughed and smacked his butt. [Hello, Inappropriate!] "You're a pervert, just like your father was."

"What was I?" Michael asked. I stood up to greet my husband. "A pervert at Luke's age," I told him, giving him a hug.

"Every Spencer boy is," he said, laughing, and his eyes twinkled. [You must be so proud!] Sometimes, when I looked at him, I forgot that he was a grown man, and only saw the boy I'd fallen in love with when I was 17. He was still muscular, with broad shoulders that showed he worked out. His black hair was wavy and fell over his eyes. Michael hadn't changed much, but the faint wrinkles around his eyes gave away his age.

"How was work?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair.

"Not the best. I gave a test today, and I've graded half of them. Nobody got above a C yet." He laughed, but he looked sad. "I guess Biology isn't a popular subject among my students." [Oh, I think it is, just not in the way you'd like. Here in Indianapolis, two sixth graders were caught doing the nasty during shop class RIGHT UNDER THEIR TEACHER'S NOSE. There was a partition blocking a section of the classroom from the teacher's view when he was seated at his desk. Because creating private spaces where horny adolescents can pro-create is an excellent idea!]

"They'll come around. No subject is a fun subject when you're a teenager." [Except that Michael teaches in an elementary school. Way to pay attention to attention to your husband's career.]

"I guess. How was your day?"

I told him about the new account. "Michael, if my company gets this account, I'll get a really nice raise. It could help us send the kids to college when they're out of high school."

"And if you don't?" he asked.

I smiled weakly. "Then we qualify for food stamps."

"We'll be OK, honey. I know you'll knock 'em dead."

Suddenly, the happy expression left Michael's face, and, taking me by the hand, he led me into our bedroom. I sat on the bed as he closed our door. Then he started to pace.

"Stop it, Mike, and tell me what's on your mind."

He stood still. Then he asked, "Did you call Dr. Peters today?"

I bit my lip. "I didn't have time at the office. I'll do it before dinner."

"Damn." Michael looked like he was about to say something else, but when he saw my face, thought better of it.

"I'm nervous, too, you know. I want to know what's wrong with me. Why didn't you call on your lunch hour?"

"Because he's not MY doctor!" My husband sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. [Enough with the fingers through the hair!] "Look, I don't mean to sound like it's all up to you. And nothing's wrong with you. Don't say that. It's our problem."

"Yes. Ours," I whispered. Michael sat beside me and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Are you OK?" he asked. I nodded, not looking at him. "Jenna?"

"I'm fine. Really, I'm just tired," I lied.

"Alright." He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the issue, and for that I was grateful.

"Why don't you start dinner?" I asked. "I'm in the mood for some ribs, and nobody makes 'em like you, baby." I smiled and pushed him off the bed.

"I'll get you for that later," he said in a mock threatening tone. My husband kissed the top of my head affectionately and closed the door on his way out. I spread out on the bed and closed my eyes, thinking about the problem Michael and I had been having.

Though we'd been trying for months, Michael had yet to get me pregnant. We had both decided that we wanted one more child; very badly in fact. I longed for another baby to hold in my arms, to cuddle with and love; I knew Michael was hoping to have a son named after him. [Because the first one--you know, the male twin he created with his super sperm--wasn't good enough to be a Junior?] We were both frustrated, and more than a little disappointed. Hopefully, Dr. Peters had an answer for us, an answer that my husband and I wanted to hear.

[So, you're practically on the verge of losing your job and your lines of marital communication are a wee bit spotty. You should definitely have more children!]

-------

I feel like the plot is moving along a tad slow for my taste, but rest assured there is plenty of drama in store. Just to keep you panting for more, I will say that the sequel features two pregnancies, neither of which make it full-term, and neither of which belong to Jenna. Will that tide you over until next week?

On that note, Happy Easter!

Tragic Love Friday: They're not lesbians (Not that there's anything wrong with that)

Shame on you dirty-minded TLF readers for taking Kayla and Cassie's innocent best friendship and turning it into something sexual. Lil' Frema was fourteen years old, people, a love-starved teenager who practiced different make-out techniques on her mom's living-room throw pillows; do you really think she was mature enough to explore the complexities of non-traditional relationships between consenting adults? Were there any lesbians in Flowers in the Attic? Think, McFly, think!

(When I was in high school, I actually did attempt to write about a gay pairing, as part of a saga that focused on the lives of four friends, but I didn't get any further than the first six pages because seriously, after writing a line like "Carlyle, I want you to be my only," the plot is all downhill from there.)

Anyway, part two! Part two is back with a vengeance, and perhaps a questionable explanation as to why Kayla and Cassie were hopping all over the continental United States looking for a girl who's lived in Cedar Springs, Iowa, the entire time, or at least since her year-long stint in an urban prison nursery. Then again, Jenna and Michael drove through Wisconsin to get to Iowa, so I wouldn't hold high intellectual expectations for any of these characters. Or said love-starved author. You understand, right? All of us, we were so young.

I'll shut up now. We have a prologue to finish.

-------

PROLOGUE - KAYLA (CONTINUED)

"Kayla!" Cassie's voice broke my thoughts. "Pay more attention to your driving. We're almost there." In a softer tone, she added, "Are you OK?"

"Yeah. I'm just scared, you know? It's been 14 years, Cassie. That makes her 15 years old. [Dope math skills! I guess Kayla got her GED in prison?] What do you think she looks like? Is she a good student? Is she being brought up right? Have Jenna and Michael told her about me?" I started to cry.

"Don't cry!" my friend said. "It'll be OK, Kay. I promise. I feel the same way you do. I'm dying to see my niece." [You'd think these women would've sworn off exaggerated death references forever. Such poor taste!] She lowered her voice. "We have to be careful about what we say around Kyle, too. You can't be breaking down like this. He's not a stupid boy. He'll get suspicous and start asking questions."

[And that's when I'll stop being polite and start being REAL. People can have car accidents in Iowa, too, you know!]

I sniffled and nodded, then checked to make sure Kyle was still sleeping. He was. Oh, he looked so much like me with his blond hair and blue eyes, that sparkled when he laughed. He didn't know how much. He'd never really seen my blond hair, only my dark brown. I'd told him he looked like his father, and that had made him proud. [I can't wait to be a dead beat, non-child-support-paying loser, just like my daddy!]

A few minutes later, I pulled into the driveway of our new home.

The house was small and white, and had rows of flowers alongside of the walkway. Cassie jumped out before I completely stopped the car, she was so excited. It reminded me of when she was a teenager [and made me switch seats before we tried to plow through the uterus of a pregnant woman. Memories!]. I woke up my son.

"Wake up, sweetie," I whispered in his ear. "We're home."

He opened his eyes slowly and gazed at the house through the car window. "It's so small," he said, sounding disappointed. [Ungrateful brat! He's lucky they're not sharing a bedroom in a studio on top of the local 7-11.]

"But that's only the outside, darling! Come on, let's go explore this place!" We got out of the car. "Where'd Aunt Cassie go?" asked Kyle. At that moment, she emerged from the house, her long dark brown hair covered with bits of drywall. "This house is great!" she cried. "It needs a lot of work, but that's no problem for us, right guys?" I smiled, and Kyle laughed. We were experts at fixing up houses. Everytime we moved, something in our new house or apartment had to be improved.

[So I guess two adults working behind the counter at Wal-Mart can afford a mortgage and private school! Good to know.]

As I entered the house with Cassie and Kyle, a warm feeling came over me. Cassie, Kyle and I didn't have to move anymore. I would be able to see Katherine from afar and watch her grow up. Maybe she and Kyle would go to school together and become friends. [Like kissing cousins, even!] I prayed that they did. I wanted them to form a bond that was like one a brother and sister would have. [Their bond will be JUST LIKE THAT. On an unrelated note, have you met Chris and Cathy Sheffield?] If only they could know about each other.

I sighed. I had done the best I could. Now all I could do was hope for the best.

[Kayla and Cassie are so the poor man's Thelma and Louise. What do you think?]

CHAPTER ONE - KATHERINE

I slid into my seat just as the bell rang, signaling it was time for homeroom. My homeroom teacher, Mr. Bray took attendance [it's killing me not to add the proper comma after Bray's last name, KILLING ME] and read the announcements for the day. As he did, I noticed a new boy sitting in the back of the room. That was strange. Most of the people in Adams High School had grown up with each other. There were hardly any students transferring, and if they did, they usually came in September; rarely in November. Before I could give it more thought, the warning bell for first period rang. I hurried myself to English. A few minutes later, the boy who was in my homeroom wandered in. I took my seat, which was next to my best friend, Shannon Sanchez. [Lil' Frema thought it was time to get some diversity up in here.] She was staring intently at the boy, and I playfully nudged her in the ribs. "So you noticed the new boy?" I asked, smiling.

"Mmmhmm," she answered, not taking her eyes off him. "I've never seen someone as fine as him in my whole entire life!"

[Even as a teenager I couldn't write youthful dialogue. So sad! At least I used "fine" instead of "built," though, right?]

I rolled my eyes. Shannon often exagerrated things, but this time she was right. The boy's golden blond hair was wavy, and strands of it fell into his eyes, which were such a deep blue, it was like looking into the sky on a stormy night. For a moment, he looked me directly in the eye, and I quickly looked away, embarrassed to have been caught staring at him. "Shannon, you're being too obvious," I hissed. Reluctantly, she turned away. "Do you think he noticed me?" she whispered. I laughed and was about to answer when my English teacher, Ms. Socha called the class to attention. [Another missed comma placement!] She took attendance, then called the new boy to the front of the room.

"Class, as you may have noticed, we have a new student. This is Kyle Hart, and he came from--" She paused. "Kyle, where did you say you were from?"

"California," he answered softly, his eyes scanning the room. His voice was low, but not deep, and his eyes looked like they were smiling.

"My, my," Ms. Socha [name of my fourth-grade teacher, who I loved so much] said, shaking her head. "Such a long way to travel. I hope you enjoy Iowa."

"I hope so, too," he said and sat back down. On the way back to his seat, Kyle smiled and winked at me. Shannon noticed.

"I guess he's not very shy," she commented.

"I guess not."

[The more I think about it, the more I wish I had cast this Jared Leto

than the one pictured here:

Jordan Catalano would've given that girl one hell of a wink.]

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Edited to add: Man, this excerpt was way too short. Blame it on the hustle and bustle of Luke's and my busy morning, what with him packing for Michigan and me type type typing away on the keyboard so I wouldn't have to bring my TLF notebook to work and I couldn't stop looking at the alarm clock because I didn't want to crawl into the office two hours before lunch.

Anyway, I'm home now, so here is the rest of chapter one. Because I am all about customer service.

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For the rest of the day, Kyle showed up in every single one of my classes. And in every class, he managed to give me some kind of sign, like a wink or a sly smile, which annoyed me to no end. [Do fourteen-year-old boys even know how to flirt? I thought all they did was throw gum in your hair and attempt to grab your tush.] After the dismissal bell, Mr. Bray called Kyle and me to his desk.

"Katherine," he began, "I guess you've noticed that Kyle has turned up in every class of yours."

I nodded, not looking at Kyle.

"I had his schedule made identical to yours for a reaon. Your teachers all gave rave reviews about your work. Since Kyle is a little behind [your mom's a little behind! Or likes it from behind, take your pick], I'd like you to tutor him, help him out with anything he has trouble with. The two of you could work out a schedule on when you'd get together. How does that sound, Katherine?"

This time I glanced over at Kyle, and his face no longer looked mischevious, just shy and uncertain. "I'll do it," I answered, smiling at him.

"Great. Well, that's it. You can go."

I exited the classroom and went to my locker. As I searched for my books, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped and whirled around. It was Kyle. "It's OK. I don't bite," he said laughing. "Usually."

"Well, put your fangs away. I'm busy."

He looked hurt. "You don't like me, do you?"

Again, I was surprised at how easily his emotions could change. "I don't NOT like you. I hardly even know you."

[I'm not quite sure what the hell I was doing with Kyle's character. Showing off his range of depth, maybe? I guess somehow that morphed into Sexual Harrassment Caseworker's Worst Nightmare slash Insecure Momma's Boy.]

He seemed satisfied with my response. "Fair enough. I'm sorry if I rubbed you the wrong way today."

[And that wasn't even an innuendo!]

"You did annoy me a little," I admitted. "Why did you do all those things?"

"To get your attention. Did it work?" Kyle smiled again, and his eyes twinkled. For a moment, I was lost in them.

"Katherine?"

"Yes," I answered softly. "You definitely got my attention."

"I'm glad. When I saw you in homeroom, it was like I had met you before."

This time it was my turn to smile. "Maybe in another life."

[Or in the same uterus!]

Things were quiet for a moment, then Kyle said, "I better be going. I have to help unpack all our stuff."

"Where did you move to?" I asked.

"In this house on Gibson Road. It's really quiet around there. Nothing like California." I saw a trace of sadness in his eyes. Then he brightened. "Hey, if you want to start that tutoring thing soon, you can come home with me after school tomorrow."

"OK, it's a date." I liked Kyle already, and was glad he wanted to get started so soon. However, I thought this too quickly.

"No, no, Katherine. If it was a real date, we wouldn't be studying from books." He looked me over slowly from head to toe, then looked me directly in the eye and raised his eyebrows suggestively. It made me furious!

[We hear you, Kath. In college, a random guy at a dance club asked me to dance and five minutes later, he was shoving his tongue down my throat. Which was fine with me--I was actually trying to up my French stats, anyway--but still. Cheeky punk!]

"Kyle, for a nice guy, you can be a real asshole! That attitude may have worked with California girls, but it doesn't with me." I grabbed my school bag and slammed my locker closed. After giving Kyle a dirty look, I started to walk down the hall quickly.

"Katherine, don't be mad," he called, not attempting to follow me. "Life's too short, and you seem too sweet to be unforgiving."

"You're right, I am," I called back, trying hard not to smile. "Just don't let it happen again." I hurried down the stairs, leaving Kyle smiling in the deserted hall.

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Thanks for bearing with me today through my half-assery and for giving me permission to switch out the Jared Leto picture. Consider it done.

Tragic Love Friday: Part the Sequel

Here it is, folks. Numero dos. Part two. The sequel.

And just like I'd hoped, we've got a few more readers along for the ride. Since last week's TLF blog-off, we've made a believer out of Isabel, who in turn converted Carrisa, Operation Pink Herring, and May. All four combed through the archives and finished part one this week, which is no small feat considering how long winded both lil' Frema and Adult Frema are. If you have time, go back and read their comments and encourage them to keep it the hell up.

Big, hearty thanks are in order to David, Silly Hily, and Molly for participating in the contest, and a special congratulations to Hilary, who gone done scored herself the first season of 90210 on DVD. All three can relive their synopses through their limited-edition copy of the Tragic Love Friday Original Mixed Compact Disc Soundtrack, featuring music--well, not inspired by the story, exactly, because the story came first--but a play list that leads you through an appropriate "musical narration," if you will, songs that inspired deep, meaningful conversation between Hilary and me on Google chat. Prizes will be distributed in April because dudes, we so shot our budget for March.

Anyway....

Before we delve into the next chapter in our friends' tragic lives, I need to give you some backstory on how the sequel came to be. If I remember correctly, I don't think I actually planned on writing one. Love, Betrayal and a Baby was conceived (no pun intended) during my last two months of eighth grade and wrapped up sometime over the summer. Once finished, I just kind of sat on any residual thoughts while I prepared for and acclimated to attending high school at an all-female, Catholic institution, coming to grips with things like wearing a uniform and making sure you have change for the bus and wondering if any of the other girls had come from a place where throwing textbooks out of the math teacher's third-floor window was a commonplace occurrence.

By the time October rolled around, I was itching to write again. I knew these characters still had some life left in them, had even more self-absorbed, catastrophic moments to share. Plus, I was so proud of being able to come up with such an enormous plot all on my own, even if it was filled with countless holes, and I came to love Jenna, Kayla, Cassie, Michael, and David--oh, David, you poor, dead bastard--like they were real people. I wasn't ready to let them go.

After writing a brief outline of the major plot points that would provide the foundation for part two, I just ran with it, picking up nine years after Jenna's final narration, which means everyone except Cassie (yes, yes, the bitch is back!) clocks in at thirty-two years of age. Cassie is one year younger.

You're dying to see what they look like, aren't you? I thought you'd never ask.

To refresh your memory, here's the teenage cast:

And here they are all growed up and adultish:

Just like our sister soaps aired on that fancy gadget you call a television, sometimes the characters who originate a role aren't necessarily the ones who see it through. In part two, Kayla changes her appearance just enough to put Christie Clark out of a job, and Daphne Zuniga was too upset over her lack of "screen time" in part one to consider joining us for the sequel. But Toni Collette will do just fine.

Look at the smirk on Kristian Alfonso's face. Jenna better watch out, is all I'm saying.

But this story isn't just about the adults. Because now they're parents! With children! Who are just as crazy as they are!

 

Which brings me to the most popular ailment plaguing daytime: the Soap Opera Rapid Aging Syndrome, commonly known on message boards as SORAS. This is the method used to replace all those love children who in reality would be no older than six or seven with sexually aware teenagers determined to peddle their romantic wares around town, just like their mothers and fathers before them. Obviously these aren't the actors and actresses lil' Frema was thinking of back in 1994, but adult Frema thought it best to fill roles based on how well each person matched the mental pictures dancing in her head. She is fully aware that AMC's Alexa Havins is really twenty-five years old and in no position to play Katherine for Lifetime's adaptation, and Jared Leto could never pass for fourteen, and Daniel Radcliffe is all tied up with Harry Potter (Julie Marie Berman is probably OK; I'm not sure what she's doing on General Hospital these days) but hey, Gabrielle Cateris got away with playing a high school junior at thirty, so DON'T NOBODY JUDGE ME.

One more thing. (I know it seems like I'm dragging this out, but really, you want to hear this.)

Part two is a little more...tragic than part one. It's still cheesy as hell, make no mistake, but the storylines are quite intense at times, and some of the scenes are a little graphic. But this isn't surprising, is it? I was a teenage soap opera junkie who spent all three middle school years devouring every book V.C. Andrews ever wrote. That shit was bound to crop up sometime.

OK. Here we go. As always, spelling errors remain intact.

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Love, Betrayal and a Baby 2

PART ONE

PROLOGUE - KAYLA

My body shook with excitement as I stepped off the plane. I stared at the many trees, long stretches of grass as far as the eye can see, small houses scattered along the dirt road, and let out a sigh of happiness. [Did the plane land in someone's yard?] My years of searching hadn't been for nothing. Next to me, my 14-year-old son Kyle looked around and shrugged his shoulders. "Why are you so happy, Mom? Cedar Springs, Iowa doesn't look half as great as some of the other places we've been to." I laughed and hugged him. "Appearances can be deceiving. I think we're really going to love it here." I glanced at Cassie. She had tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong, Aunt Cassie?" asked my son. She smiled. "Nothing. I'm just happy that this is going to be the place we can settle down in."

"You mean we're gonna be staying here for good?" he cried [isn't living in Iowa every boy's fantasy?]. I nodded, and he grinned. "That's something to be happy about," he said, "although I can't imagine why you guys chose this place."

The three of us picked up 3 suitcases and went to the car I'd rented in advance. My car and the rest of our things would be coming by U-Haul trucks from our old home in Sacramento, California, in about a week.

[What? U-Hauls are the best way to transport a car!]

My mind was spinning as I followed the directions that led to our new home. "What's the house look like?" asked Kyle.

"I don't know," I replied. "My real estate agent picked it out. I'm sure it'll be fine for us, though. She said it's perfect for a family of three." [All y'all who fret over things like home inspections and personal taste are just too big for your britches. Make your agent earn her keep and pick your house for you!]

"Where will I--?"

"Kyle," interrupted Cassie. "Stop asking so many questions and enjoy the scenery." I could tell she was nervous by the way she kept folding her hands. I felt the same way. As a matter of fact, I'd had knots in my stomache since I had received the phone call from my private investigator 3 weeks ago.

"I've located your daughter, Ms. Hart," he'd said. "Her and the adoptive family, the Spencers."

I had burst into tears as soon as he'd said that. Mr. Johson [should've been Johnson, but I was too lazy to try and squeeze in the "n"], the investigator, had said more, but that first sentence was enough to start me and Cassie packing with Kyle. Finally, after 14 years, I would be able to see my daughter again.

I can see the day I gave up Katherine Marie so clearly in my mind, it's like I'm reliving it all over again. She had only been a year old at the time, and I had been in prison. I hear her babyish voice screaming "Ma-ma! Ma-ma! No-no-no-ma-ma!" as she was taken from me. That had truely been the worst day of my life.

I sighed and glanced in the backseat at my son, who had fallen asleep. Kyle wasn't Katherine, but he made up for so much in my life. It saddens me that someone so dear to me had been created in such a hideous way.

It was about a month after Katherine had gone, and at that period in time, I was depressed, which made me vulnerable. Two security guards realized this, and one day, they came into my cell. They cursed at me, stripped me of my clothes and spat on me. I was brutally beaten and, when I was nearly unconcious, raped repeatedly by both men. I ended up with a head concussion [like a wise Rachel on Friends once said, if it's not against a headboard, it's just not worth it], 2 cracked ribs, and a fetus.

Still, people refused to believe I was raped. All they did was transfer the security guards to a different wing in the prison. I was told by everyone I had "asked for it." [Cracked ribs as foreplay? Next Oprah.]

My parents had not taken Katherine in when her year in prison with me was up; that was why Jenna and Michael had adopted her. I had no one who would take care of her for me, and I knew she wouldn't have a good life with me. But I just couldn't give away another child; Katherine had been one too many losses for me. I told my parents the circumstances under which Kyle had been conceived, and they took care of him until I was released from prison.

By the time I had served 3 years of my 6 year sentence, I was free to go. [Way to go, Illinois!] Cassie only had to serve a year and a half of her 3 year sentence, but they made her serve the 2 years at the women's Sanitarium. That meant I had been out of jail for six months before she got out. She moved in with me and Kyle, and soon after we began our search for my daughter. The search was important to Cassie, too. She's Katherine's aunt. [We know, honey. Just like Bastian in The Neverending Story, we were right there with you!] Her brother, David Donovan, is--was--my daughter's father. I use the word "was" because David's dead. He was murdered by Cassie and yours truely. Actually, murder is such a strong word. We didn't mean to kill him. It was Jenna's guts we wanted splattered all over the street, not his.

I guess everyone makes mistakes.

[Can you tell I also read a lot of Christopher Pike? I was totally channeling his sarcasm.]

I'm 32 now, and it shows. I have faint wrinkles around my eyes and mouth, and I'm a few pounds heavier than I should be. [Dude, when your portrayer is Hope from Days of Our Lives, you've got no business complaining about your weight.] I changed my last name from Evans to Hart, cut and started dying my golden blond hair to dark brown right after I left prison so Michael and Jenna wouldn't recognize me, when/if I discovered their whereabouts. I didn't want to send them packing and never see my daughter.

[Didn't you know? Hair dye also renders your facial structure completely unrecognizable! At least, it will in Iowa.]

It was only last year when I could afford to hire a private investigator. I didn't have a steady career; neither did Cassie. We moved around too much. Instead, we each took on 2 or 3 low-paying jobs to pay the rent. Between the two of us, we even managed to send Kyle to private schools at times. He's an extremely bright boy; he's a year ahead of himself at school. He could even be brighter, if we didn't move so much. The longest we've stayed in one place is one year; it was in New York, and only because Kyle wanted badly to graduate with the kids he'd manage to stay a whole year with. He cried for weeks when we'd moved from there to Calif. It was one of the few times he'd allowed me to see him cry.

Kyle has no clue as to the reason we move so much. [Um, neither do we! Apparently your maternal instincts are about as reliable as a ham sandwich.] Cassie and I tell him that you only live once, and that we want to make the most out of life. There are many things he doesn't know. He doesn't know Katherine exists, and I will never tell him the truth about why he was born. [Which means of course he will learn the truth about why he was born.] He thinks his father is a man who left me when I was pregnant because he was scared of fatherhood. I otherwise created a nice father figure for him to look up to. It would shatter him to know otherwise.

[I actually started laughing the minute I typed "pregnant," because poor lil' Frema really had no clue. "Kyle, even though your father is a coward who would rather flee the state than be a part of your life, he was a stand-up guy. You would've loved him! You both like the same video games!"]

As far as Kyle is concerned, Cassie is my sister and his aunt. A child needs family in his life, and I really can't give him any. [Except the grandparents you forced him onto!] And Cassie loves him like he was her real nephew. That's all that matters.

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The DRAMA, it has started anew.

Also, in case anyone asks, I did not spend all of last night and part of this morning working on this post. That would be totally embarrassing, right?

Tragic Love Friday: The Idiot's Guide (and Some Random Jack Handy-Type Deep Thoughts)

When I unveiled Tragic Love Friday during NaBloPoMo, I had no expectations for the outcome. Mainly I wanted to hop on the "I have a weekly feature" bandwagon without putting in a lot of extra effort and poke fun of my adolescent persona at the same time, a little person with a flair for the dramatic and a passionate yearning for love, specifically the love acts she read about in her V.C. Andrews novels.

My biggest fear? That people wouldn't like it. That people would dismiss even the idea of the story as childish and amateur and not worth the four minutes it would take to read each post. I paid special attention to the comments section, looking for specific names and wondering if their absences equalled a lack of interest. As the conclusion to part one drew near, I played around with writing a comprehensive synopsis outlining the characters and major plot points, hoping to entice my non-TLF-reading buddies to at least give the sequel a shot. (Then I got smart and finagled you people into doing my dirty work for me. Thanks again, Internet!)

Whenever a person does anything creative, it's hard not to become attached to it and want others to do the same. That piece of work reflects blood and sweat and tears and effort, makes a statement about what you value. When somebody rejects it--for whatever reason--it's hard not to take it personally. Because it is personal. Even if it's silly, it's part of who you are.

It wasn't until today, though, while combing through three uniquely fabulous TLF reviews, that I realized getting caught up in who's not paying attention does a serious disservice to the ones who've joined you for the ride.

Make no mistake, I'd love to get more readers for Tragic Love Friday. I harbor wild delusions about book agents and script writers stumbling across this small-town Web site and pestering me for full-time work so I can quit my day job and become important and famous. But until then, I'll be focusing on how happy I am that anyone reads this blog, period. If you love TLF, that's wonderful. If you don't, that's OK, too. (Not wonderful, but OK.) It's nobody's job to fawn over every damn word I post. (Well, except maybe Luke's, and even he's stopped following TLF.) Just the fact that you guys keep coming back here leaves me humbled and eternally grateful.

Hmmm. That was pretty deep for a Friday, huh? I'm going to shut up and my reviewers do their thang.

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SYNOPSIS NUMBER ONE
by David McNelis

(Which I inwardly refer to as "No He Did Not Just Write A Freakin' HAIKU About TLF")

David was stupid
and he slept with two best friends
Consequences felt

His sister was nuts
and plotted to kill Jenna
by running her down

Kayla was to help
since she got knocked up as well
David was fertile!

Mike stood by the side
A real invisible man
in love with Jenna

Jenna wasn't sure
what the hell she was thinking
when she stole Katherine

But she was distraught
from being made to go "POP!"
by her friend Kayla

And since her David
was struck outside the DQ
by Kayla and Cass

She took the biggest
butcher knife in the hiz-ouse
to snatch a baby

Frema had crafted
A super-max with babies
That let Jen in

Pick up the kiddie
and stash it inside her shirt
Blind security

Let's go to Iowa
And dumb Mike comes along, too
Map reading be damned

Wisconsin it is
With sunglasses and kissing
Police do close in

After being on
the hood of Whitesnake's (Mike's) car
Confessions too late

Prisoner transport
across state lines just to see
a baby is safe

A year has gone by
and the baby starts talking
A one-year-old talks!

But now it must leave
To Jenna's arms it will go
and Michael's arms, too

They had a wedding
and a Paris honeymoon
Do not go to jail

Five years down the road
Twins, a teacher, and Jenna
Living in Iowa

Tragic Love Friday
takes a hiatus for now
See you here next time!

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SYNOPSIS NUMBER TWO
by Silly Hily aka The Hilarazzi

(Before she wrote this, Hilary printed out every page of TLF because she didn't want to "leave something important and vital out." I am in Internet love with her.)

Part I

Chapter 1

We are introduced to most of the gang on their last day of school. Only the summer separates them from their senior year of high school. They have all the knowledge and wisdom in the world. They are adults. (Come on, isn't that what we all thought at that point in our lives.) Jenna and David were maybe forced to grow up before the others. They are expecting a child together. Cassie, David's sister, was excited to be an aunt. Kayla on the other hand was a bitter bitch. She had been David's girlfriend for a year and a half. Kayla asked Jenna to talk to David since they were having problems. They broke up though and in the process of Jenna consoling David, they fell in love. Fast forward three months and Jenna was knocked up...by David. You'd be a bitter bitch, too. Oh, and did I mention that Kayla and Jenna were, and I stress "were," best friends? Kayla's family was like a second (or first) family to Jenna, since her parents were often away. Jenna had another best friend to rely on though. His name is Michael. He's that guy friend that every girl wants. The guy friend that you can talk to and will always be there giving you great advice and a healing, strong hug. They are a Will & Grace pairing, only Michael is straight.

Frema's best commentary (in brackets):  "After a while, though, the sparks that left Kayla's and David's romance came into our friendship." [Obviously that's not the only thing that "came."]  [Ba dum bum ching!]

Chapter 2

Cassie and David have an adult conversation at the kitchen table while drinking coffee. Didn't you do that with your siblings at 17? We learn that their mom is a slut and is also never home (these poor kids). We also learn that Cassie is very protective of David. She doesn't want him to marry Jenna because he feels he has to. David swears that he's marrying Jenna because he loves her, but Cassie knows better. Cassie doesn't like Jenna because of what she did to her best friend, Kayla. She's the bitter-best-friend bitch. David is a smart young man. His only problem is keeping it in his pants.  He works at McDonald's as a cashier and is looking forward to making a lot of money during the summer. Money he can put away for him and Jenna to start their life together and raise their baby (what a responsible baby daddy). The baby that they find out is a girl. The two sort through names like Candy (David, are you wanting her to make a living as a stripper?), Michelle, Mary, Mary Ellen, and Mary Anne before finally deciding on Mary Katherine.

Mama Slut goes out of town leaving David and Cassie some money. David is stressed about work, the baby, etc. etc. so he snatches $50 of the $200 (thanks Mama Slut) and calls Michael to go hang out and drink some beer. After having one too many, David opens up about all the problems him and Jenna are having.  Michael ever so slyly implies that maybe David is still in love with Kayla. All of a sudden, she is all he can think about. He wonders why he ever broke up with her. Which brings me to...

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): [Nothing says "I love you" like breaking up with your soul mate and boinking her BFF.]

Chapter 3

Still drunk, David ended up at Kayla's house. She wasn't able to sleep and was just fixing her some warm milk (how does anyone drink warm milk?), something David observed she only does when she's bothered or worried. Kayla's parents are home (finally, someone who has visible parents) but they could obviously sleep through a tornado, or their own doorbell ringing, or their own daughter doing the nasty. Yes, that's right, David and Kayla got it on for the first time. (Cause that's how Kayla rolls. She waits to have sex for the first time after David has become her ex and knocked up her best friend.) David even told Kayla that he loved her. They fell asleep in each other's arms only to have David be gone by sunrise. Cassie notices the next day that Kayla is a complete wreck about something and continues to be on Kayla's side. David ends things with Kayla (again) for good. (He just wanted to pop that cherry first.) Kayla vows to save David from Jenna. To SAVE HIM!

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): "You didn't hurt me on purpose. You're in love." [That's the way...it should be...] (In which we all carried on the cheesy Wilson Phillips song in the comments section. It was great.)

Chapter 4

David gets a promotion at McDonald's. Yippppeeee. David has super sperm...Kayla finds out she's pregnant. Good thing you got that promotion, you baby daddy times two you.

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): There are sooo many good ones from this post (Dec. 22, 2006, go back and read if you can) but if I had to pick one it would be: "When are you two getting hitched?" "A week or two after the baby's born." [This seemed so logical to me at the time, but now I'm all, "What's the rush? The kid's already a bastard."]

Chapter 5

Kayla tells David she's pregnant. David tells Jenna. Jenna punches David. Jenna calls Michael for comfort and support. 

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): "Jenna, wait! Let me explain!" [I think you covered just about everything but positioning, buddy. She gets it.]

Chapter 6 & 7

Cassie turns into a complete psycho and suggests that Kayla "get rid of" Jenna. Cassie devised a plan to to hit Jenna with a car. It would simply be an "accident." David reconciles with Jenna. In the middle of the Dairy Queen parking lot, Kayla drives the car into Jenna while Cassie sits in the passenger seat. (What, she's not going to jail for murder. She only came up with the plan. Kayla has to do the dirty work.)

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): "You need to get rid of her....then David can give you everything you and your baby deserve." [Um, I was just going to suggest getting a lawyer and suing his ass, but murder works, too.]

Chapter 8

Whoops. Wrong person killed. David pushed Jenna out of the way. HE was the one killed, not Jenna. However, Jenna landed on her belly and Mary Katherine didn't survive. Kayla and Cassie were arrested two days after the "accident" (read MURDER). We learn that Cassie is in a state of shock over her brother being killed (duh, it was HER idea to do this in the first place) and that's about the last we hear of her. Kayla is a wreck as well (duh, way to kill your baby daddy). Jenna is full of hurt, sorrow, pain, and anger (duh, baby daddy dead? Check. Baby dead? Check check). I'll never understand how Jenna says that she can forgive Cassie because she was just trying to "save her brother...to protect him by trying to kill me." Tha hell?

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): Jenna after finding out she had lost the baby The bulge I had loved to touch so much was gone. [There is a double entendre here somewhere, itching to break the surface, but I'll refrain out of respect for the dead.]

Chapter 9

Cassie is sentenced to three years in prison with possible parole after a year and a half. Kayla gets six years. We fast forward seven months. Michael goes to visit Kayla and ends up going off on her for hurting Jenna so much. As he's leaving, Kayla asks Michael to tell Jenna that she's sorry and would like to see her face to face. Kayla delivers a baby girl and decides to name her Katherine Marie (after her dead half-sister. She honestly thought that would be a good idea. Yeah, she's a dumbass. Kayla that is, not either baby.) Jenna calls Kayla for the first time and Kayla gushes about her baby (again, she really has no clue).

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): I felt guilty as I talked about Katherine. "Yeah, A little girl. She's adorable." [Motherhood is so rewarding and fulfilling and I've never experienced such unselfish love in all of my life! Not that you would know anything about that. My bad.]

Chapter 10

Michael gushes and gushes over Jenna. He loves her, has for years, and always will. Jenna calls him for a ride to the prison to see Kayla. 

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): As I went home a few hours later, I thought about everything that had happened in the last 7 months. David had died, and so had Jenna's baby. Two of my friends were sent to prison for their murders. It was a lot to handle. What a summer this turned out to be.  [I could've had a V-8!]

Chapter 11

Jenna visits Kayla in prison. She sees the baby and learns that her name is Katherine. At this point she becomes outraged and feels that she could give Katherine a better life than Kayla ever could. Frema put it best by saying "Poor Jenna. Girl done lost her mind." Yes, but really, she's been through a lot and totally has every right to lose her mind. And lose it she does. Learning from Kayla's mistake of no disguise, she cuts and colors her hair and steals Katherine right from underneath the nose of prison security (or clearly, lack thereof). She hits the road, planning on making one last stop before she leaves the state (with NO carseat).

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): The deskman looked surprised as I walked slowly, my arms wrapped around my belly [a baby's limb poking through the sleeve of her coat...]. "I have to go," I gasped. "My period is really heavy this month." He reddened. "Go on," he said, waving me away. [Ah, the old menstrual card. Well played, Jenna!]

Chapter 12

Thank God Jenna stops by Michael's house to say good-bye because she was as prepared as Anna Nicole's will (read: not prepared at all) for taking Katherine away for good. Michael stole some money from his parents and hit the road with her. We also learn that when Michael gets fed up, he hits. Other than that, he's Jenn's hero.

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): "Michael? Michael, what's going on?" I heard my mother call from upstairs. "Nothing, Ma," I called back. "It's just the T.V." [Nothing, Ma. Just smacking around the woman of my dreams!]

Chapter 13

Kayla is informed that her baby is gone. She's interrogated by the cops. It doesn't take her long to realize that Jenna is the kidnapper.

Frema's best commentary: [Also, Lifetime? Feel free to approach me about a movie script at any time.]

Chapter 14

Michael and Jenna take turns driving through Wisconsin to get to Iowa. (Shut up. Frema was a damn good writer at the tender age of 14, you can't expect her to be good at geography, too.) Jenna has time to do a lot of thinking and realizes that she misses Kayla and their friendship and knows that by taking Katherine from her, she's hurting her. The two turn around and head back home. Jenna can't cross that state border yet though. She wants just one more day with Katherine before giving her back to Kayla.

Frema's best commentary: [This girl so owes Michael a blow job. Really. At this point the poor boy's balls must be bluer than the sky.]

Chapter 15

Kayla is informed that a witness has spotted Jenna and Michael in Wisconsin. Kayla persuades the cops to take her with them to retrieve her daughter.

Frema's best commentary: "Maybe. But I have to be there when you find my baby. Please! You can cuff me, gag me [hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me], whatever!"

Chapter 16

Michael FINALLY gets the balls to tell Jenna how he feels. She doesn't believe him and simply thinks he's lonely. Before she has a chance to realize that the feeling is mutual, the cops have their car surrounded.

Frema's best commentary (in brackets): I grabbed her shoulders. "You have to know!! I need to know!" [OK, OK, I love you. Just please don't hit me again!]

Chapter 17

It's all over. Jenna and Michael are caught. Katherine is returned to Kayla and the security (yeah right) of the prison. She decides to not press charges against the two, claiming to understand why Jenna did what she did. Jenna finally realizes that she's in love with Michael.

Frema's best commentary: "If you don't have any plans for the rest of your life, I thought that maybe we could get together..." [Oh my gosh, I'm cringing, you guys. CRINGING. Forgive 'lil Frema for the cheesiness.]

Chapter 18

One year later, Michael and Jenna are married. Kayla's year with Katherine is up though and her parents won't take her (shitty ass grandparents). She asks Jenna and Michael to take her.

Frema's best commentary: There was a small reception, then we flew to Paris, where we stayed 2 weeks. Her parents paid for the expensive trip. Out of guilt, I guess. [Geez, wasn't the counseling enough?]

Chapter 19

Katherine is taken from Kayla. Yes, I totally cried. Shut up.

Frema's best commentary: "Ma-ma! Ma-ma! No-no-no-Ma-ma!" Her face was blotchy, and her arms reached out to me. Her little body shook with sobs. [Mothers in the house, are you still with me?  Hang on, it's almost over.]

Chapter 20

Five years later Jenna and Michael have spit out twins of their own, making them a family of 5. They are living in Jenna's dream place. Florida? New York? No, Iowa. Michael is training to be a teacher and Jenna stays home with the kids. I'm wondering how this is financially possible and want in on the action so I can stay home so easily with my kids. All seems perfect. However, Kayla will be released from prison this year. Hell-oooooo sequel!

Frema's best commentary: [Ah, Jenna's mothering skills haven't changed one bit. Have fun dangling over cement and wood chips, foul-mouthed toddlers! Also, TWINS. Did you expect anything less from Michael's sperm and Jenna's uterus?]

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SYNOPSIS NUMBER THREE
by Molly

(Mad props to Molly for slipping in her very own "your mom" joke!)

The Tragic Love Friday series began to unfold back in November, when Frema decided to share the soap-like multi-triangular fictional work of epic proportions, written by none other than her young, romance-craving teenage self. The story involves main characters David, the double-duty burger-flippin' baby daddy; Kayla, the first love then dumped then knocked up then turned vengeful murderer baby mama number two; Jenna, the once friend of Kayla and fiance of David, baby mama number one who ends up not only with dead baby but dead boyfriend all in the same day, eventual wig-wearing prison baby kidnapper of baby mama number two's baby and then in the end happily married to her good baby stealing buddy, Michael; Michael is the bitch-slappin' best bud to Jenna, who hangs around and baby naps while he bides his time waiting for the piece of ass that turns out to be his eventual wife; and last but not least, Cassie, who is much like seaweed to the story--she's David's sister and gets wayyyy too involved with his girlfriends, eventually plotting with baby mama two to kill baby mama one.

The plot of the story is thick and juicy, just like your mom, and full of unexpected awesomely dramatic twists and turns. And as a bonus, it's loaded with Adult Frema's hysterical commentary on the writings of 'Lil Frema. So without further adeiu, I present to you a different sort of summary, in the quips of Adult Frema:

"Obviously that's not the only thing that came!" "The condom, David. The condom is what went wrong." "Yes, Kayla. He love you long time. For about eight minutes."

"Um, I was just going to suggest getting a lawyer and suing his ass, but murder works, too." "But you're still pregnant, so you win!" "I suppose when you kill your ex-best friend's unborn baby and soon-to-be husband you can afford to be generous with forgiveness. Also, is anyone else flashing to mental images of Glenn Close and dead bunnies?"

"I see you've dropped a quarter down your panties. Let me get that for you!" "Ah, the old menstrual card. Well played, Jenna!" "Clever strategy, Jenna. The police would never think to search for a missing baby one state over!"

"Sweetie, if Katherine hasn't eaten since she left the prison, she's probably dead. No need to rush."

"OK, OK, I love you. Just please don't hit me again!" "Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me"

"This girl so owes Michael a blow job. Really. At this point the poor boy's balls must be bluer than the sky." "Bitch is gonna make ME cry!" "Ah, Jenna's mothering skills haven't changed one bit. Have fun dangling over cement and wood chips, foul-mouthed toddlers! Also, TWIINS. Did you expect anything less from Michael's sperm and Jenna's uterus?"

Can't wait for the dramatic sequel!

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Clearly these are excellent write-ups that make it impossible for you to keep dry underpants. Clearly it is a monumental task to select a winner.

Therefore, once again, you're doing the hard part for me. Tell me--either in the comments or via e-mail--which reviewer should receive the first season of 90210. All three rockin' authors have earned their very own Love, Betrayal and a Baby Original Mixed Compact Disc Soundtrack, featuring songs to be determined by Silly Hily and me. And yes, David, "Invisible Man" will totally be on there as Michael and Jenna's theme song.

We are going to have big fun with the sequel, friends. BIG FUN.

Tragic Love Friday: The Conclusion of Part One

Today is a sad day, folks; it's the day we say good-bye to the teenage shenanigans of our favorite Prairie State delinquents. We bid a fond farewell to passionate one-night stands that use warm milk for foreplay; poorly timed hit-and-runs in Dairy Queen parking lots; prison break-ins with premature babies concealed in lightweight spring jackets; and disturbing displays of domestic violence from a boy not even old enough to vote. If we were all together in real life, surely I'd be clasping your hands, drawing from your quiet strength to get me through.

Instead, I will have to console myself with bacon sandwiches and tickets to a Jerry Seinfeld show downtown. It's a hard-knock life, but I will carry on.

Anyway, remember, the summary contest officially starts today, so after you've dried your eyes and pulled out chunks of your hair--you know, because of the sadness--get to working on your synopsis. I'll accept submissions until next Wednesday, sift through them on Thursday, and announce the winner on Friday, as well as post all the submissions I received. We'll delve into part two of this deliciously tragic drama on March 23, at which time I hope a few more "What're you lookin' at?" readers will have jumped on the part two bandwagon, which will highlight the gang fumbling through adulthood. Plus, teenage children! More death! And yes, even more babies!

But in order to move forward, you must know where you've been. Come, grasshoppers. The final chapters.

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - JENNA

I was handcuffed and my rights were read to me. The same was done for Michael. We were forced to lean against a squad car and be searched. My car's contents were emptied. "We've got her," an officer said. I craned my head and saw a woman tear away from an officer and run to Katherine. It was Kayla! "Oh, she's alive! She's OK! My baby!" she sobbed. "Please, let me hold her for a minute!" Someone took off the cuffs and grabbed her arm. The baby cried in her arms [you're not my daddy!] as Kayla covered her face with kisses. I saw her check the baby for cuts and bruises. "She's perfect," she said, sounding relieved. My heart was breaking.

The baby was taken from her and the cuffs were put back on. I was being led into the car when she shouted "No! Wait!" I stood in front of the door, trembling as she walked up to me. She looked me straight in the eye, but said nothing [and then she punched me in the face! Just kidding]. My eyes filled with tears. "I'm - so - sorry," I whispered. "So sorry."

[Bitch is gonna make ME cry!]

Kayla looked sad. "So am I. About everything." For that one moment, time stood still, and we understood each other.

[Did Kelly and Brenda ever have A Moment like this after the whole Dylan debacle? I mean, I know they became friends again, but did they ever hug it out? I sure hope so.]

Then I was put in the car. As I was driven away, for the first time I accepted everything that Fate had given me, and I felt peace.

[So apparently being arrested for a felony out of state on live TV brings out the best in people. Who knew?]

*

Kayla didn't press charges. Michael and I were taken home that night. [Of course they were. I love it.]

My parents and I talked for a long time. They were mad at me [for losing their butcher knife], but they felt bad for not knowing how desperate things had gotten for me. [Spending hours crying at her dead boyfriend's tombstone wasn't a big enough clue?] We decided to go into family counseling. It felt good to know my parents were finally making an effort.

[The Walshes so would have done family counseling. I totally approve.]

*

A week had passed. I had only one more problem to deal with: Michael. I closed my eyes, remembering the feel of his mouth on mine [his hand print flat on my cheek, then cutting off the circulation in my bicep. Swoon!]. It had felt so full of love, so right.

I'm in love with him, I realized for the first time. [I like to imagine Jenna jumping out of her seat, turning her head frantically from side to side, like, who the hell's there? And then, oh, it's me! And my HOT BURNING PASSIONATE LOVE.] Imagine that, being in love with someone and not even knowing it. Love was funny that way. [Sneaky love!]

I was scared, though. David had said he'd loved me, but not enough to keep out of Kayla's bed. [Actually loveseat, but whatever.]

But Michael wasn't David. He'd proven that so many times. It's like he was faithful to me, even though we were only friends. There was never anyone else, only me. Me, who was involved with someone else.

I stood up. I hoped Michael still loved me, because now I needed him, too, in so many ways.

Running out of the house, I hopped into my car and drove to his house, butterflies in my stomache. What if he rejected me?

I stood in front of the door and rang the bell. He opened the door, and stared at me. He showed no emotion.

"Hi stranger." I was nervous, but tried not to show it. I kept talking, all the while hoping for a sign of acceptance. "If you don't have any plans for the rest of your life, I thought that maybe we could get together..."

[Oh my gosh, I'm cringing, you guys. CRINGING. Forgive 'lil Frema for the cheesiness.]

I couldn't say anything else, because Michael crushed me in a hug. He kissed me, and that's when I knew I would never need anyone else for the rest of my life.

- ONE YEAR LATER -

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - MICHAEL

"You may kiss the bride."

I lifted the veil from Jenna's face. She smiled. "We did it," she whispered. I nodded and fingered her brownish-blond hair. (She dyed it back to her real color.) [Leighton, you're out! Hughes, game on!] "I'll love you forever," I said softly, and kissed her lips gently.

I couldn't believe it. Jenna was now my wife.

There was a small reception, then we flew to Paris, where we stayed 2 weeks. Her parents paid for the expensive trip. Out of guilt, I guess. [Geez, wasn't the counseling enough?]

When we came back, we went straight to the little apartment we'd rented before we married. I carried her in my arms and we collapsed on the couch. She giggled. "Carrying me over the threshold?" she teased.

"You bet." We started to kiss, but the phone rang. Jenna wiggled out of my embrace, looking surprised. She picked up the phone. Who would call us so soon? I wondered. "Hello?" Her face turned white. "How did you - oh....No, I understand." Silence for a few minutes, then, "I'll talk to Michael and call you back." She hung up and sat down next to me. "That was Kayla," she said. "She got our # from my mom yesterday." [I take it they didn't send her video from the wedding?]

"What did she want?"

"Her year with Katherine is up. Her family won't take the baby." Jenna took a deep breath. "She wants us to adopt her."

[Don't you think this kind of news merits more than a phone call? I mean, Kayla could've made a huge to-do out of it, inviting them down to the prison, asking about the honeymoon, and then offering them a "special wedding present." So perfect!]

We hadn't seen the baby since we'd taken her. I'd missed her, though. So had Jenna.

"Darling, you decide," I said. "Whatever you want." Tears filled her eyes. "I want to. I still miss her," she cried. I hugged her. "Then we'll get her as soon as we can."

CHAPTER NINETEEN - KAYLA

I brushed Katherine's now golden curls and made sure her sundress was on right. Oh, I would miss her so much. Life had no meaning without my daughter.

Her blue eyes stared at me, sensing something was wrong. "Ma-ma!" she cried, hugging my legs tightly. I picked her up and kissed her cheek. "You have to go live with 2 very nice people, Kathy," I said. I was crying. "I'll miss you so much. I love you, I do!" Then 2 guards came to take her from me. Take her from me forever. I hugged her tight and kissed her again. "Be good, baby!" I cried, sobbing.

"Ma-ma! Ma-ma! No - no -no - Ma-ma!" Her face was blotchy, and her arms reached out to me. Her little body shook with sobs. [Mothers in the house, are you still with me? Hang on, it's almost over.] "Ma - ma!" Katherine's cries stayed with me, even when I could no longer see her. She was gone.

I knew I had done the right thing. My life wasn't right for a child. Jenna and Michael could give her everything I couldn't.

"Good-bye, my angel baby," I whispered. "Mama loves you."

[OK, that did it. Now I'm crying, too. Damn you, bad writing, for toying with my emotions!]

- 5 YEARS LATER -

CHAPTER TWENTY - JENNA

"Mommy! Push me high!" Katherine shouted. I laughed and gave her swing a small push. Lucas and Leigh, my 3-year-old twins, came running up to me. "Mommy! Lucas hit me on the monkey bars!" Leigh shouted, her face in a pouting expression. Her blond hair was slightly messed up. Lucas said, "Did not, poo-poo head!"

"Stop it, both of you," I said firmly. "I didn't take you to the park to fight." They ran off.

[Ah, Jenna's mothering skills haven't changed one bit. Have fun dangling over cement and wood chips, foul-mouthed toddlers! Also, TWIINS. Did you expect anything less from Michael's sperm and Jenna's uterus?]

My small family and I lived in Iowa, my dream place. Michael's training to be a teacher. I stayed home with the children. [This is an edit I did after I was half-way through writing the second part. I had originally pegged Michael as a doctor, so it made more sense that Jenna was a stay-at-home mom, but it didn't fit with my plot for the sequel, so I changed it.]

Life is wonderful. Katherine doesn't know that Michael and I adopted her, and she won't know for a long time.

Kayla gets out of prison this year, and sometimes I get scared that she'll come look for Katherine. But I have peace, and confidence that whatever life does to me, I can face it, because I'm not alone, and not as helpless as before.

THE END

[I'm sure I would've liked to have written more, but that was the second side of the last page of my notebook, so there you go. In the margins I've got "Write about Cassie's release here," because at that point I truly believed I would work this story into the ultimate love story for my generation.]

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That's a wrap, folks! I'm sure it was everything you hoped it would be and much, much less.

In honor of this somber occasion, I ask all TLF readers to offer a comment. I have no idea how many are out there, but I appreciate every single one of you. Let me know who you are so I can say thanks. If you have commented before, today is NOT the day to keep silent. But no pressure.

Luke and I are leaving for Chicago tomorrow morning and won't return home until Tuesday, as he has to attend a trade show for work and I'm going to go with him because hello, free hotel room. If the lobby has Internet access, I promise to update, but only if I have something really meaningful to say. Like whether or not I scored a pretzel at Navy Pier.

Tragic Love Friday: Coming at you like a spider monkey

Well, our free two-week trial with Blockbuster Online is officially over. Our first monthly payment of ten dollars and fifty-nine cents was charged to our Visa on February 25th, but do you know how many movies we saw in February? Six. SIX MOVIES FOR ELEVEN DOLLARS. This is record-breaking for us, and reason enough to establish a permanent love affair with ordering films online.

It all started on the thirteenth when we received the eagerly anticipated Click (which was very good and even made me cry a little). After we'd had our fill of Adam Sandler shenanigans, we brought it to our local Blockbuster chain because online mailers double as coupons for free rentals in the store, which is how we came across The Illusionist (highly recommend), which in turn held us over until the first two episodes of Big Love arrived while Luke was away on business. That weekend we returned The Illusionist and used the Big Love mailer to score The Grudge 2, which I feel obligated to inform you was not a good decision. Meanwhile, our account had been credited with an e-coupon for a free rental just for signing up with BB online, so we redeemed it for A Sound of Thunder, another questionable choice but Edward Burns was kind of cute so it wasn't all for nothing.

On Tuesday we received Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, and that movie is so damn hysterical we had to watch it twice. Shake and bake!

"We could watch this every day for the rest of our lives without paying any late fees!" I informed Luke in a sort of awed wonder.

"Or we could just buy it," he said.

There is that.

So yes, this newfangled idea of renting online is working out splendidly, mainly because we're not limited to renting online and we keep getting coupons for additional rentals. Some of the thirty-five titles currently stored in our queue include The Departed, Lady in the Water, Adaptation (which I first watched for a screenwriting class in grad school and can't wait to see again), Proof, Fantastic Four, the first season of 90210, and The Notebook.

Speaking of notebooks (OMG, what a fantastic segue), we are down to the last fifteen pages for the first serial of Tragic Love Friday. Next week will showcase the final installment, and then it's on you guys to come up with a really hysterical summary for this tale of questionable morals and unbridled passion. Remember? Not only will you be performing a huge service for potential part-two readers, but you'll also score yourself an opportunity to relive the days when Brenda Walsh ripped holes in the knees of her jeans and Brian Silver's cousin accidentally killed himself wearing a cowboy hat (or something). What about that sentence isn't appealing?

Some of you expressed concern over the guidelines I laid out, but really, don't pay them any mind. Just summarize the story as you remember it. If I receive multiple submissions, which I REALLY hope I do, I'd like to feature them all, so if you miss something, chances are another reader will pick up the slack. You're also allowed to team up with other bloggers to present The Mother Of All Summaries, but then it's up to you to figure out what to do about the DVDs, because dudes, I love you, but not enough to contribute seventy dollars of 90210 goodness to the World Wide Web when I'm stuck renting it all online.

Here we go, my pretties. The second-to-last installment. Cherish it while you can. 

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN - JENNA (CONTINUED)

"You're sure you want to do this?" Michael asked, once again in the driver's seat.

"Positive."

A few hours had passed since I made my decision. We were just about 3 miles from the Illinois border. The area was deserted.

"Stop here," I cried suddenly.

"Why?"

"I - I don't want to go back yet. Give me till tomorrow. Then I'll give her back."

Michael pulled over and parked near a cornfield. He squeezed my hand. "It'll be harder if you wait," he said softly. [That's what my first boyfriend said when he wanted to have sex!] "Just give me till tomorrow," I pleaded. He nodded.

I fed Katherine some formula, then Mike and I ate a little lunch. "I'm proud of you," he said out of the blue.

"Why?"

"I know how hard giving Kayla back Katherine [Awkward Phrasing, how I've missed thee!] will be for you. It won't be a great experience for me, either. I've grown to like the little tyke." He smiled at the baby and tickled her under the chin. She squealed with delight.

"I'll be alone again, Michael." I shuddered and wrapped my arms around my chest. "You'll never be alone as long as I'm around." My friend gazed at me with such intensity, I had to look away. "So much has changed in such a short amount of time. It's scary when you think about it." I yawned. "I'm so tired."

"So am I. Why don't you sleep in the backseat with Katherine, and I'll sleep at the wheel."

"No," I argued. "You've been driving for hours. You sleep back here, too." His face flushed. [I thought you'd never ask!] I felt myself turn red, also. "I mean...if you could just hold me, protect me. That's what angels do," I teased. [But do angels help emotionally unbalanced women kidnap children from maximum-security correctional facilities? Now's not the time to quibble over job descriptions, Jenna.] He smiled shyly and made himself comfortable in the backseat, while I snuggled against him. Katherine was asleep in my arms. It would have made a pretty picture.

I closed my eyes and let sleep take over me.

[This girl so owes Michael a blow job. Really. At this point the poor boy's balls must be bluer than the sky.]

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - KAYLA

I was pacing back and forth in my cell when the officer who was handling my case, Officer Kujak came barging in. [This name sounded so authoritative to me at the time, kind of like Columbo or McGyver. A Kujak could carry his own show, don't you think?] "We have news about your baby, Evans," he informed me.

I felt my body come to life. "How is she? WHERE is she?"

"A woman spotted a car that matches the description of suspect Jenna Meddows."

"In Illinois?"

"No. Wisconsin."

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Is she alive? What's being done?"

"The witness didn't think about the car until she heard about the kidnapping on the news. She was already back in Chicago by then." Kujak checked his watch. "Me and 3 other squad cars are on our way any minute. I've got to notify the Wisconsin police."

"No!" I cried. "If she sees police, she might panic and hurt Katherine." My shoulders sagged, and I felt like crying again. "She's got a butcher knife."

"OK; you might be right. Now I've got to go." [Members of the law are so easily influenced by the flawed yet seemingly reasonable logic of civilians! This kind of exchange happens in Lifetime movies all the time.] He turned to go. I grabbed his arm desparately. "Wait! Take me, too."

"Are you crazy?"

"Maybe. But I have to be there when you find my baby. Please! You can cuff me, gag me [hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me], whatever!" Kujak grabbed my arm and cuffed my hands behind my back. "I'll see," he said.

We were gone in 5 minutes. Please don't hurt her, Jenna, I thought as we drove to Wisconsin. If my baby's OK, I can forgive you. "How long until we're there?" I asked. He checked his watch. "It's 4:00 PM now. We should be there by 6:30."

I couldn't get there fast enough.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN - MICHAEL

I woke up from a fitful sleep at around six. I had gotten up twice to change and feed Katherine, letting Jenna sleep. She needed it more than I.

[Jeez Louise, she's had the kid fewer than twenty-four hours and already she's a lazy mother. Michael's like a single dad, only with no actual children!]

I got out of the car and stretched. The sky was shades of pink and blue. Such a beautiful setting, such a sad situation. In the car, my love stirred. I saw her sit up and blink her eyes sleepily [probably rolling Katherine onto the floor in the process]. I went to take the baby from her [See? He knows she can't be trusted] and motioned her to join me. She sat on the hood of the car, hugging her legs to her chest. She was so beautiful. I sighed. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," I lied, a lump rising in my throat. Tell her, tell her! my mind was shouting. "A lot of things are going to happen after Katherine's returned," I commented. "We'll be put in prison."

Jenna shook her head. "Only if Kayla presses charges against us." [You know, because the state of Illinois has no qualms with you stealing babies from their facility. One less mouth to feed!]

"You don't think she will?"

"No. She knows why I did it. She'll forgive me."

"What are you going to do?" I asked. She looked thoughtful; thoughtful and sad, too. "I can't go home. Things are too different."

"Where will you go?"

"Far away from here." She laughed bitterly. "My parents will hug me, write me a huge check, and then I'm gone."

"You can't go," I whispered. "I'll miss you." [Please don't go, girl. Never ever go away....]

She smiled. "I'll miss you, too."

"Jenna." I mustered up all my courage. "I - I love you." [Go, Mikey, go! You can do it!] She looked surprised, then said, "I love you, too, Mike. You're my best friend."

"You don't understand. I love you, Jenna. I'm in love with you, and I need you here with me." I was so scared, I could have cried. How would she react?

[Oh my gosh, I'm so nervous for him! My heart is pounding like crazy as I type this.]

Jenna shook her head. "You're just confused. You can't love me."

I secured Katherine in jackets and blankets in the backseat, and I left the car door open [so someone else could kidnap her?]. Then I grabbed Jenna's hands and gazed into her eyes intensely. "I do. I think I fell in love with you the first day I met you. You're the first thing I think about in the morning, and the last thing at night. It hurt so much when you were pregnant with David's child, because I wanted you for myself."

[Um, thanks for being happy my baby is dead?]

I leaned closer until her face was inches from mine. "I love you so much it hurts," I whispered. "I can't live without you now." Ever so softly, I kissed her lips. My hand reached to caress her cheek, and I kissed her again, only with more passion. She responded slowly. Soon, she was in my arms. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of my neck. I kissed her forehead, and her eyelids. [That last part was creepy. I don't want anyone kissing my eyelids.] "I would die without you," I whispered in her ear.

I shouldn't have mentioned death. She stiffened and pushed me away. "No," she cried. "This can't happen. You're my best friend."

"I can be more," I said, hurt by her resistance. "I want to be more. Can't you see that?"

"You're just lonely for someone," she insisted.

Tears sprang to my eyes. "Don't you love me, even a little?" Jenna started to cry, too. "I - I don't know." I grabbed her shoulders. "You have to know!! I need to know!"

[OK, OK, I love you. Just please don't hit me again!]

[Also, I don't know why I put so much emphasis on "you" and "I" in the above paragraph, when really "have" and "need" were the ones who warranted extra attention.]

"I don't know," she sobbed. "Even if I do, I can't get involved with you. Love hurts too much! David said he loved me, and then he went to Kayla!"

"I'm not David! I'm Michael; I'll never hurt you!"

"Raise your hands where I can see you! This is the police! I repeat, put you're hands where I can see them!" I turned around and lifted my arms above my head. During our conversation [read: hottie make-out session], policemen had slowly surrounded the car. Jenna, looking terrified, did what I did.

It was all over.

-------

And now it's all over for me. Except for two more quotes from Talladega Nights, because really, so hilarious.

"Dear little baby Jesus, who's sittin' in his crib watchin' the Baby Einstein videos, learnin' 'bout shapes and colors, I would like to thank you for bringin' me and my momma together, and also that my kids no longer sound like retarded gang-bangers."

"I wet my bed until I was nineteen. There's no shame in that."

Hakuna Matata, bitches!

(OK, three quotes. Go see this movie!)

Tragic Love Friday and I'm Going To BlogHer WOO HOO

So, in case you weren't following the comments yesterday, BlogHer cofounder Elisa Camahort addressed my concern regarding whether or not this year's Chicago conference would be in an affordable price range, and she laid my fears to rest when she said one could attend both days for around $250, which includes breakfast, lunch, and cocktail appetizers for each day. Her good news was all it took for me to return to BlogHer's Web site, grab the HTML for one of their "I'm going" buttons, and voila! I'm going! Molly and I are going, and Isabel is going, and her BBF HollowSquirrel is going, and did I mention the venue will be Navy Pier? You all remember my connection with the Pier, right? Move outta my way, muthafuckas, because I'm getting myself a salted garlic Parmesan cheese pretzel or two or three, cholesterol be damned, is all I'm saying.

Oh, and also, for those of you worried about my not having an ob/gyn already, I schedule my womanly exams faithfully every December with my general practitioner. I don't care who's down there with my who ha, so long as the ultimate result is a clean bill of health.

On to TLF.

People, we have twenty-two pages left before the sequel, and rather than stretch it out for as long as I can, I'm just going to type in excerpts of normal length so we can move on to bigger and more dramatic storylines. However, before we move on to part two, I'd like to give non-TLF readers a chance to join in on the fun without having to spend an hour or two reading the archives to catch up on what they've missed. So I'm hosting a little contest. Whoever writes the best Tragic Love Friday synopsis will win their very own copy of...

Beverly Hills, 90210: The First Season. What better way to pay homage to TLF's theme of love, betrayal, and batshit-insane teenage antics then with the gang that started it all?

All participants will receive a little something for their efforts, which will be equally fabulous but about thirty dollars cheaper.

The winning review will include character descriptions of our main players, summarize all major plot points (how you choose to work in this information will be entirely up to you), and feature a word count no longer than an average TLF post. It also has to be funny as hell so non-TLF readers will be persuaded to hop on the part two bandwagon. Submissions must be turned in by the Wednesday after part one's last excerpt is posted, which should happen in the next few weeks. Don't stress out too much over spelling and grammar, as I promise to fix typos, missing words, and the like. I will NOT edit sentence structure or overall content. That's all you, sugar.

Please tell me you think this is a fun idea. In the meantime, we've got a baby to find!

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN - KAYLA

I woke up to the sound of my bar door being opened loudly. I glanced at the small clock at the foot of my bed. 8:30 A.M. I jumped out of bed and found myself staring into the eyes of 2 police officers. "Kayla Evans, we have to give you some bad news," one of them said, looking grim. I shook my head. "Whatever it is can wait. A nurse should be bringing my baby here to be fed. She SHOULD have been here an hour ago."

[You know, because babies fewer than three weeks don't really care when they eat. They're breezy!]

"At 12:27 A.M. last night, Katherine Marie Evans, your daughter, was reported missing from the prison's nursery."

[So she's probably still hungry, then.]

"No," I whispered. "You must be mistaken." I felt my legs turn to jello. One of the officers noticed my wariness and grabbed my arm. "It's all true. Now sit down so we can ask you some questions."

My head started to spin. I stumbled and fell on my bed. My vision started to blur. I was vaguely aware of the officers in the room. They ignored my condition and started firing questions at me.

[For this scene, I like to imagine Kayla throwing herself dramatically on the mattress while the cops roll their eyes and uncap their Bic pens. Honestly, what some people will do for attention!]

"Do you have any idea of who could have taken the infant? Have you any enemies? Or," the policeman asked, raising his eyebrows, "did you arrange the whole thing?"

[Dun dun dun!]

It took all my willpower to keep myself from knocking him out. "I love my baby," I sobbed. "I would never hurt her. How can you accuse me of such a thing?"

"Because you started receiving visitors the week of the baby's birth, and then suddenly she's gone," he snapped.

[Oooh, good point. Nice job, lil' Frema!]

"Believe me, I would never--"

"Shut up!" he shouted. "How can I believe you? You, who killed your lover and attempted to murder his pregnant fiance! She lost her baby. Why should I think that you care about yours?" He shook his head in disgust, and motioning to the other officer, they left me alone.

[So, now that I've berated the kidnapped baby's mother and thrown out wild accusations, I'll just be on my way. Nothing to see here!]

I cried for a long time. When I finally calmed down, my thoughts wandered to the welfare of my child. Was Katherine being fed? I breastfeed her. How would she react to formula? Was she even alive? Why did the kidnapper take MY baby?

The kidnapper. Who was it? They had to know the set up of the building. First chance I got, I'd call Jenna and we could--

A terrible thought occured to me. [And the lightbulb finally goes off!] I banged on my door, yelling, "Guard! Guard!"

He came running. "What is it?"

My hands were shaking. "I - I need to make a phone call." He raised an eyebrow. "You're only allowed one call a day. You sure you want to make it this early?"

[Maybe you'd rather, I don't know, SHARE YOUR SUSPICIONS WITH THE POLICE.]

"Yes." We went to the phones, and I punched in Jenna's number. Her mother picked up on the first ring. "Hello?" I asked. "Is - is Jenna there?"

"Kayla? She's gone," her mom angerily said, sobbing. "Food, clothes, and our biggest butcher knife is gone. Don't you dare call again, you murderer!" The line went dead.

[And Mrs. Meddows is the proud recipient of today's Random Dialogue of the Week Award!]

I took a deep breath and screamed. I pulled at my hair. The guard tried to hold me down, but I pulled away. "No!" I screamed. "She took my baby!"

He slapped me then, and I felt the world fade away as I collapsed to the floor.

[More violence against women. Cassie's probably got two black eyes by now.]

[Also, Lifetime? Feel free to approach me about a movie script at any time.]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN - JENNA

My eyelids fluttered. Rolling my head from side to side to loosen the stiffness in my neck [your mom's got a stiffness!], I glanced sleepily at Katherine, who had nestled comfortably in my lap, and then at Michael, who was still driving. He looked like he would fall asleep at the wheel. I reached out and squeezed his shoulder affectionately. [A little lower, Jenna, a little lower....] "Hey there, angel. I think it's time for you to catch some Z's, don't you?" He smiled at me and yawned. "Don't worry about me, Doll. I'm fine. We crossed the border into Wisconsin a few hours ago."

[What? Doesn't everyone drive through Wisconsin to get to Iowa? Clearly geography was not my best subject in school.]

"Really? That's great." I took a look at my wristwatch. 9:00 A.M. I wiggled into an upright position. "Katherine should be wanting to eat soon."

[Sweetie, if Katherine hasn't eaten since she left the prison, she's probably dead. No need to rush.]

"I fed her already," Michael replied, his eyes on the road. "She woke up crying an hour ago, so I just threw together a bottle for her [one-handed, while driving]. A while later, she went back to sleep."

"I didn't know you knew anything about babies," I said, surprised.

"Sure. I have lots of younger cousins."

I stared at my companion's profile as we drove on. He was very cute, in a different way. [So now Clark Kent's not good enough for you? For cripe's sake, Jenna.] He was built, and he had wavy black hair that fell over his right eye. He also wore wire-rimmed glasses.

Michael was a great guy, but the girls I knew at school labeled him a do-gooder. [Don't worry, the kidnapping charges will take care of that!] He didn't date much. Sometimes I felt sorry for him; you could tell he was lonely.

A little while later, we came across a local drugstore. "Let's stop in," Mike suggested. I agreed. "We can't both go in with the baby, though. We'll be noticed." I ruffled his hair playfully. "You need a disguise, too."

I went in first. I felt like a spy as I purchased a baseball cap and a pair of black sunglasses similar to mine, and a few bottles of mineral water. I ran to the car and stopped in my tracks. Michael had his back turned towards me. Peering through the window, I saw him tickle Katherine; she made sounds that seemed like laughter. He said something I couldn't quite hear, and she laughed again. I smiled. Michael would make a good father someday. A good husband, too.

[Hello, Foreshadowing, my old friend...]

I tapped on the window. Startled, he gathered the smiling baby in his arms and opened the door. "Having fun?" I asked.

He looked embarassed to have been found playing with the little girl. "She needed a clean diaper," he said, blushing. I smiled and gave him the thumbs-up sign. "Sure, Mike. I believe you." I took Katherine from him and gave him the bag. "Here's your disguise. The water's for the baby." He nodded and got out of the car. "I bought everything. You don't have to go in," I said. He grinned.

"Nature calls."

Five minutes later, we were on the road again, only this time I was driving while Michael fell asleep with Katherine in his arms. I sighed. Michael didn't hesitate to join Katherine and me on our "journey." He must really care about what happens to me. I didn't deserve such a great friend.

[If she were a real person, I'd happily give her a second slap for being so damn blind.]

For the first time I thought about Kayla. She must be going out of her mind, I thought, but I wasn't as happy as I thought I would be. She didn't know if her baby was alive, dead, or being taken care of properly. [Kayla also wouldn't be thrilled at the thought of her daughter cruising around Wisconsin with her head in another man's crotch, but that's neither here nor there, I suppose.] I felt a pain in my heart as I thought of Mary Katherine, lying beneath 6 feet of dirt. My baby was gone because of the hatred Kayla felt for me.

Tears welled in my eyes, and I reached out and touched Katherine's cheek. She stirred and opened her eyes, giving me a curious stare. [Probably wishing this crazy woman would just leave her the hell alone to dehydrate in peace.] I pulled the car over and took her in my arms. Her mouth formed in a tiny O. As I held her to me, I thought of my actions. I had kidnapped my ex-best friend's baby. Even though I told myself I hated Kayla, I found myself rationalizing her actions. Yes, she made love to my fiance, but it was obvious that she'd never stopped loving him. And she didn't demand anything from David until she found out she was pregnant.

I hated to admit it, but I missed Kayla; I missed the girl who used to be my best friend. When had things changed?

When I started dating her ex-boyfriend.

I was crying. My body shook, and I began to wonder what I was doing. I was hurting my...my best friend. Michael's words came to my mind:

"'Make peace with Kayla, and yourself so you can go on with your life! If you leave with that baby, it'll never be over!"

God, how I wanted the pain to be over. As I gazed at Katherine, she smiled, showing me her toothless gums. Oh, I loved this baby like it was my own. It had just taken one look at her and she was in my heart. It would be like losing another child when I gave her back to Kayla.

But I knew that's what I had to do.

-------

Happy Friday, everyone!

Tragic Love Friday

So. Apparently you all were shocked by my teenage willingness to mention human reproductive organs in poems calling attention to the spiritual consequences of infant abuse. I have to say, the others were quite jealous of all the attention "Stupid Mommies" received, throwing around phrases like "show off" and "special treatment" and "I thought the Mrs. Fletcher bit was HILARIOUS. She was gipped, I tell you, gipped!"

But that's all in the past, and as I post today's TLF installment, I indirectly continue my theme of highlighting my adolescent works of "art." Too bad I couldn't just scan in all of these pages and submit them to Cringe Book, eh?

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CHAPTER TWELVE - MICHAEL

I was heading towards my room, looking forward to a good night's sleep when the doorbell rang. I hurried to the door and unlocked it quickly, so it wouldn't wake my parents. There stood a woman with short red hair holding a sleeping infant in her arms. "Jenna, is that you?"

She nodded, and I motioned her in. She sat on the couch. I followed her, mesmerized by her sudden and different appearance. "I just came to say good-bye," she said softly.

"What? Good-bye?" I rubbed my eyes and finally realized that Jenna was holding Katherine, Kayla's daughter. [What the hell did you think it was, Michael? Her Cabbage Patch?] I felt sick to my stomache. She had kidnapped her.

"Don't leave," I said.

"You know I can't stay here, Mike," she said and started to cry. I took Katherine from her. "Why, Jenna? Why did you take her?"

She looked around the room sadly with those big green eyes that broke my heart. "I--I...I can't be alone. You know I was never happy unless someone was with me."

I shook my head. "You're lying to me, and to yourself. Just admit it: you did it for revenge." She stood up and glared at me. "So what if I did? You don't know me, Michael Spencer. You don't know the pain I'm going through, or the anguish I feel when I wake up in the morning! Two parts of my life were taken away when Kayla hit David and me. [Except you weren't hit, remember, sweetie?] You don't understand! You never can!!"

That did it! I laid the sleeping baby on the couch [car seats and bassinets are SO overrated] and slapped Jenna's face, good and hard! She let out a small cry and raised a hand to her cheek. "The hell I don't!" I yelled.

"Michael? Michael, what's going on?" I heard my mother call from upstairs. "Nothing, Ma," I called back. "It's just the T.V."

[Nothing, Ma. Just smacking around the woman of my dreams!]

[Also, if I'd been just a few years older at the time of this writing, Jenna would've slapped him back, you know, to even the score, and after a moment of mutual heavy panting, grabbed him by the base of his neck and kissed him passionately. They would've ripped each other's clothes off, fallen down to the carpet, and come together in a spontaneous round of hair-pulling, grunt-inducing Angry Sex, giving Katherine an inside look into how babies are made.]

I lowered my voice. "The hell I don't," I repeated. "I do know you, Jenna. I know you better than you know yourself. No, I can't imagine your pain, but it's over now! Make peace with Kayla and yourself so you can go on with your life! If you leave with that baby, it'll never be over!"

[First the prison speech and now this. Man, Mikey's just knockin' em right out of the park!]

There was silence for a few minutes. Then I ran upstairs. "Where are you going?" she whispered.

"With you," I said. In my room, I got out my gym bag and threw in clothes from my drawers. I put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. My wallet had 50 dollars. I put it in my back pocket. Taking the bag, I snuck into my parents' room. I went through my dad's wallet and found 350 dollars. [Because of course adults carry this much cash on their person at all times. They're adults!] I gave them one last glance and ran back downstairs. "Let's go," I said. "You don't have to go," Jenna said in a hard tone. "I'll be fine without you."

"How about Katherine? Do you have a car seat for her?" She shook her head. [Now Michael is Mr. Mom?] "And what about money?" I asked. "How much money do you have?" By the surprised expression on her face, I could tell she hadn't remembered to bring any. "Come on," I pleaded softly. "Let's go." Jenna hugged the infant to her chest and together we walked to her car. She gave me the keys and got into the passenger's seat without a word.

First, I got the car's gas tank filled. I had been driving for a half an hour when I decided to break the ice. "Where do you want to go?" I asked. "We could always go to the prison and--"

"No," Jenna cried.

"OK, OK. Where then?"

"Iowa," she said dreamily. "It's such a pretty place. Very peaceful."

[Clever strategy, Jenna. The police would never think to search for a missing baby one state over!]

"Have you ever been there?" I asked.

"Mmhm. My grandparents used to live there a few years ago."

"What happened to them?"

"They died."

"I'm sorry," I said suddenly.

"Don't be. They died a long time ago."

"Not about that. I'm sorry I hit you." I took my eyes off the road for a minute and stared at her intensely [aka "creepily"].

"It's OK," she replied after a minute. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. You don't deserve to be yelled at by a bitch like me." [But you deserve to be slapped? Low self-esteem, anyone?] She smiled. "Your my guardian angel, remember?"

I shuddered as I drove on. How could I tell her that I wasn't the angel she made me out to be? That I was the one who brought up David's old feelings for Kayla, so maybe he'd go back to her and I could have Jenna all to myself?

She could never know, I thought. If she did, I would lose her.

That was something I couldn't bear.

[OK, it was a crappy thing, but not really the big deal Michael thinks it is. David was clearly looking for excuses to get it on with Kayla, and even though he never admitted his love for her beyond their one-night stand, and even though we never hear Jenna's thoughts on the affair, I think a part of her knows she and David never would've worked out; that if he were still alive today, he'd probably be with Kayla. Maybe that's why she takes the baby, because she couldn't live in her own skin knowing Kayla had "won."]

[Also, Michael's "encouragement" never does come out, in this book or the sequel. I really wasn't very smart.]

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A shorter excerpt today, but I'd really like us to savor this time we have together, and that's not going to happen if I share more than a few pages at a time. However, the sequel is longer, lustier, and even MORE inappropriate. There's even incest! V.C. Andrews would've been so proud.

Indulge me, dear readers. What would you like to see happen in the sequel?

Tragic Love Friday with a Side of Cringe

When Dooce first brought Sarah Brown's Cringe Book project to light last month, I instinctively knew I had to be a part of it, or at the very least try. I received my first combination-lock diary for Christmas when I was nine years old, and I spent the next ten years documenting the highs and lows of my tortured existence through prose, poetry, and song. Discussion topics ranged from my passionate (one-sided) love affair with a local parishoner at Sunday morning Mass and who will be forever known as Church Boy to the day my cousin threw shreds of toilet paper at the bathroom door while I sat defenseless on the john to the first time a boy's tongue found its way into my mouth. I was the Queen of Cringe; to confine those gems to the pages of my college-ruled notebooks and hardcover journals would be a crime against the blogosphere. So I pulled out my tupperware bin containing the chronicles of my past and jumped right in.

I expected to laugh at the reliving of celebrity crushes, pre-teen angst, and my first French. But I didn't expect to feel so sad.

It's those high school entries, covering a time where I was struggling to grasp what love was, what friendship was, what it meant to nurse a broken heart, that get me the most. It's through those entries I'm transported back to November 14, 1995, to the abandoned field outside the 35th and Archer Elevated train station where Nick broke up with me for the first time; to August 9, 1998, when my mother and I had a two-hour blow-out because she'd found my diary and learned that I'd had sex. I wrote about everything in such detail that I can't help putting myself back in those shoes, during a time period where I had no clue how to set boundaries or stick up for myself or get through a bad day. I'm not just cringing; I'm cradling my head in my hands.

However, I can still see the merit in sharing a few of these stories, because as painful as those experiences were, they were also universal, and they're still funny, because I was so damn My So-Called Life-ish about everything. So I'll continue to delve through these masterpieces and attempt to share some in time for the February 14th deadline.

As if this post weren't tragic enough, it's time for another installment of TLF. Try not to sigh over the Angela Chaseness of it all.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN - JENNA (CONTINUED)

I went back to the prison and straightened things out with Kayla the following day. We talked for a while, and I asked a lot of questions about Katherine and the setup of the prison and infant wing. She answered each question in detail. I revealed very little about myself. [Just because Kayla killed Jenna's baby and was prompted for intimate details regarding the facility's security enforcements and her daughter's feeding schedule doesn't mean J's bonding attempts are anything but sincere!]

Just yesterday, a woman brought in Katherine to be fed. [I like the wording of that line, as if eating were an occasional pastime, like going to the park.] Kayla avoided my eyes as she fed and fussed over the child. I studied closely the way Kayla treated her baby; the way she soothed her cries and made her smile. It still hurt to see the baby, but I promised myself that I wouldn't cry. She'll be in your arms soon, I told myself silently. [OK, Jenna's inquiry on how to obtain expressed breast milk was a little odd, but still. BFFs!]

After I left prison, I went to 'Barb's Beauty Palace' and had my waist-length hair cut so it rested just above my shoulders. I considered getting it dyed while I was there, but I vetoed the idea. A woman there could identify me too easily. I went to the local drugstore and bought baby wipes, baby bottles, formula, a couple of baby toys, and a bag of diapers. [And she's worried about her hair color raising suspicion?] I picked up red hair dye for myself.

At home I applied the dye to my hair. The box said it had to sit on my hair for a half hour. During that time, I packed a suitcase for myself. It contained 2 changes of clothes, some toiletries and, as an afterthought, the largest butcher knife in the house. Just in case, I told myself. [You know, like if the baby tries to talk back or call the cops.] Then I set my alarm for 10:00 P.M. and fell asleep with dreams of the future in my head.

[It wasn't until the mention of hair dye that I remembered my mental image of Jenna changed at this point from Finola Hughes to a young Laura Leighton, aka Sydney from Melrose Place. I thought she was absolutely stunning. Also, God I loved Melrose Place.]

* * *

RING!!!!

I hit my alarm and fell out of bed. It was time to get ready.

I hopped in the shower for a while. I got out and put on black jeans and an oversize black sweater. I brushed my hair and let it fall on my shoulders. I gazed into the mirror.

The changes in my hair made me look drastically different. The red hair looked natural, and the color brought out the green in my eyes. I looked like a new person.

I put the suitcase in the backseat of my car, then went back inside. I grabbed my jacket and threw bags of pretzels into a small plastic bag. [In case you didn't notice, I was obsessed with recording every. single. detail. of my characters' appearances and actions. I'm surprised I didn't outline the intensity of their bowel movements.] I slipped black glasses on my face for the finishing touch. I ran into the car and turned on the engine, giggling. I felt (and looked) like the Terminator.

[Growing up, my entire household was in love with Arnold Schwartzenegger and his portrayal of America's favorite cyborg who rocked the casbah with his black leather jacket and once steriod-induced pecks. My mother taped the first movie for us when it aired on cable, but it wasn't until I was an adult that I realized she had conveniently paused the recording during Kyle and Sarah's romp in the motel. I did think it interesting that they went from making out to tying their shoe laces, but it was the eighties, for cripe's sake. What did they know about editing?]

It was 11:30 when I reached the Prison, and I wasn't smiling anymore. My heart was pounding like crazy. What was I doing? How could I even think about taking someone's child?

Because her mother took mine. [This line was originally written as follows: "Because her mother doesn't deserve her. I could give her a better life, a life that she wouldn't spend visiting her screw-up of a mother behind bars." I'm not sure why I scratched it out.]

With newfound determination, I took the butcher knife out of the suitcase, pressed it to my side, and quietly walked into the prison. [If the guards ask, I'll just tell 'em I was making a sandwich! Who doesn't eat their turkey on wheat with the crusts cut off?]

The jail was brightly lit up, and a small man stood at the desk. He looked old, like someone's grandfather. I discretly slid the knife blade-up inside my jeans, covering it up with my sweater. [How does one "discretly" shove a sharp object down their pants? No pun intended, of course.] Limping, I walked up to him. "Hi," I said, smiling weakly. "I'm here to visit Kayla Evans."

He gave me a smile. "It's late, young lady," he said kindly but firmly. "Can't it wait?"

I managed to squeeze a few tears. They clouded up my vision through the glasses. "Oh, please," I begged. [She's still wearing the glasses? Some anonymous woman comes staggering into jail after hours wearing all black and security isn't the least bit alarmed? Jenna must have some grade-A boobies.] He softened [or should I say hardened?] and held on to my arm lightly. "OK. Let's go." He had forgotten to search me, and for that I was grateful. [Another missed opportunity on behalf of a lust-filled man.] He glanced at the metal detector. "I don't need to turn that on to check you, do I?"

"Oh, no sir," I said, shaking my head innocently. "You can trust me."

[In one of my Nancy Drew books, Nancy took on a suspect's identity and weasled out of signing a credit card slip by feigning a hand cramp. Which means this scenario is totally plausible in fiction.]

We went up a flight of stairs, and we started to walk down the hall towards Kayla's cell. A guard was at the end of the hall, his back facing us. "You should go back to the desk. I can go the rest of the way," I whispered.

He smiled. "OK. Bye now." I tiptoed quietly towards the guard until the deskman was out of sight. Then I walked quietly back to the stairway and made a left turn. I found myself staring into the window of the prison's nursery.

The nurse sat in a chair inside by the door. She was snoring, and her head was against the door. [Your tax dollars hard at work, everyone!] There was no one else.

I opened the door slowly and slipped in.

There were about 20 babies, but I spotted Katherine right away. I gazed at her in her bassinet and my heart swelled with happiness. I gently picked her up and held her to me. She started to stir. [Apparently these babies are all on the same schedule. Prison IS strict!] I covered her with my jacket and zipped it up. Cradling her as if my stomache was hurting, I exited the room and took the stairs two at a time.

[Can you picture it? The concealed knife and now-suffocating baby jiggling around in Jenna's coat as she makes her great escape? I could totally see this happening on Melrose Place. Totally.]

The deskman looked surprised as I walked slowly, my arms wrapped around my belly [a baby's limb poking through the sleeve of her coat...]. "I have to go," I gasped. "My period is really heavy this month."

He reddened. "Go on," he said, waving me away. [Ah, the old menstrual card. Well played, Jenna!]

I ran into my car and scrambled inside. I wiggled out of my jacket and wrapped Katherine securely in it. Her eyes gave me a curious stare.

I took off my glasses and gazed at the baby in my arms. I covered her face with kisses. At last! The baby I had dreamed of having was with me. I placed her on my lap, and putting one arm on the baby and using my free hand to drive, very slowly started to pull away from the curb. In 15 minutes, I was right in front of the Illinois Cematary. [Yes, just one for the whole state. Apparently people aren't accustomed to dying in Illinois.] I couldn't enter; the gates were locked. I just stared at the gravestones beyond and whispered David a tearful good-bye.

"I'm so sorry, David," I said, tears streaming down my cheeks. "I'm sorry I lost our baby, and I know that by taking Katherine, I'm making things worse. I know it's wrong, but .... I don't want to be alone." My body was shaking. The baby started to cry. "Dont cry, baby girl," I whispered in a soft but trembling voice. I rocked her in my arms for a few minutes, and she went back to sleep.

A few minutes later I was on the road again, heading for my last stop before I left Illinois for good.

[A few lines down from that last sentence is the following post-script: "When Jenna leaves with the baby, let her pass Cassie and try to talk to her. Next day, Cassie goes into fits of hysteria." For fans wondering about the wherabouts of TLF's favorite batshit-crazy mental case, this is the last mention of her until the sequel.]

-------

We're nearing the end of Part One, folks. Only twenty-seven pages to go until we find out how the first segment of this tragic tragedy ends. Anyone brave enough to make a wager?

Tragic Love Friday

For the last twenty-four hours, my brain's been jam-packed with ideas for potential entries, but I had to go to the dentist so he could chip at the layers of decay plaguing the nubbin of a tooth still hanging on in my mouth and sit in on an IT meeting where I had the privilege of rehashing the same three points I've made at the last two meetings. I also squinted at my computer monitor for forty-five minutes in an attempt to figure out how to remove the glare reflecting off the spectacles of one of our scientists so I could include his new photo in the latest edition of our clinical directory, but I did get the hang of it, so it wasn't a total wash.

Anyway, just wait and see what I come up with next week, when there will be smoking! Cringing! MySpacing! Ranting about contestants on Deal Or No Deal who turn down offers as high as two hundred thousand dollars because of course their case has the million! Of course!

In the meantime, it's the moment TLF fans have all been waiting for. Michael finally speaks!

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CHAPTER TEN - MICHAEL

"I called Kayla today," Jenna announced quietly.

"You what?!?" I cried in disbelief.

"I called Kayla at prison."

Jenna and I were at her house watching some movies when Jenna let me know about the call. I couldn't believe it. "Does this mean that..."

"No, I haven't forgiven her for....what happened. I don't think I ever could." Her eyes filled with tears. "But maybe we could stop hating each other and become friends again."

I hugged her. "That's a great idea, Doll. I hope you guys patch things up, too. I still don't like her much, but if you can find good in her after all that's happened, well, I can, too." She smiled up at me. "No matter how things turn out with Kayla and me, she could never compare to you, Mike. You're the person who was always there for me, no matter what." She laughed. "You know what? Sometimes I think you're my guardian angel."

I gazed into her eyes. "There's nothing else I'd rather be." [Well, the object of your affection is a close second, but I'll take guardian angel. That's cool.]

For a moment, there was silence. Then we turned our attention back to "DYING YOUNG." Suprisingly, Jenna picked the movie. [And really, who wouldn't grapple with a few painful memories to get a glimpse of a terminally ill Campbell Scott?] [Quick aside: Every time I thought about TLF yesterday I pissed myself because I knew that line was coming up and couldn't stand living in my own skin knowing I had unleashed such a painful marriage of cheese and tragedy onto the world.]

[And another thing: what the hell is up with teenage girls being completely oblivious to the emotional hard-ons of their male BFFs? Because when I was seventeen, every boy was considered potential boyfriend material. Seriously. There was Tom, a neighborhood local who frequented the video store where I worked after school and had oddly placed ears, sort of like Sloth from The Goonies, plus two of his front teeth were brown, but I still said yes when he asked me on a date to see U.S. Marshalls because I was desperate for a guy--any guy--to find me attractive. I thought maybe our budding romance would inspire him to visit a dentist and possibly a reconstructive plastic surgeon. Only it never got that far because he decided it was appropriate to leave messages on my family's answering machine every fifteen minutes inquiring about my wherabouts, but hey. At least I tried. (Note to self: Video-store job is EXCELLENT source of blog fodder. And fiber! Must play that up soon.) Also, Jason Chambers and I were thick as thieves for almost all of high school, and I had a huge crush on him the entire freaking time. What kind of girl doesn't want to date her hottie man friend? Which is really the point of this whole comment.]

As I went home a few hours later, I thought about everything that had happened in the last 7 months. David had died, and so had Jenna's baby. Two of my friends were sent to prison for their murders. It was a lot to handle.

What a summer this turned out to be. [I could've had a V-8!]

Then my thoughts focused on someone special: Jenna.

God, she was beautiful. Blondish-brown thick hair that came in waves down her shoulders. Piercing green eyes. A snow-white smile.

I had met Jenna in my freshman year. I was 14, shy, and a new kid. We became fast friends. She introduced me to Cassie, David, and her best friend Kayla.

Now I was 3 years older, & 3 years wiser. But I still couldn't work up the nerve to tell Jenna that I loved her. [As I sit here typing out this week's excerpt, jamming to my love songs collection on iTunes, I'm thinking we need to come up with a song for these two. A song that speaks to unrequited love, heartbreak, and longing. A song that celebrates the sentiment behind Dying Young. Will continue to think this over as I type. Yes.]

She was still in pain. Anyone could see it, no matter how many times she said she was fine. You could see it in her eyes. Her eyes always revealed her true feelings.

[I get lost. In your eyes. And I feel my spirits rise....]

Once I had almost told her how I felt about her. Before I could say anything, though, she had revealed she was pregnant with David's baby. I had never tried to tell her again. [Little lady, you look so fine; can't turn my eyes away, so much I wanna say....] Instead, I became her confidant, her best friend. I offered her tissues when she was sad, and cracked jokes to keep her laughing. In turn, Jenna would drag me outdoors when I became depressed, and together we always watched old movies when things weren't going well for either one of us. [Why does it hurt so bad? Why do I feel so sad? Thought I was over you, but I keep crying...]

Maybe, after a little more time had passed, I could tell Jenna everything. That I loved her with all my heart, and more than anything, I wanted her to be my wife. [Meet me in the altar in your white dress. We ain't getting no younger, we might as well do it!]

* * *

The next few days I stayed at home. Jenna didn't call me, so I figured that she wanted to be alone. Finally, she did call.

"Hey, Doll," I said happily. "It's been a few days since I saw your pretty face. Anything wrong?"

"No. I've just been busy."

"Oh." Silence, then Jenna said, "Mike, I need a favor."

"Sure, Anything for you, Doll." [I see you've dropped a quarter down your panties. Let me get that for you!]

"I - I need a ride to the State Prison." [Capitalized, of course, because there could be no other name for a state prison.]

"You're going to see Kayla, aren't you." It was a statement, not a question. [Your mom's a statement!]

"Yeah. Can you give me a ride?"

I didn't hesitate. "Of course. I'll be right over."

Jenna was silent as I drove to the prison.

An hour later, I let her out of the car. "Will you be OK?" I asked. She tried to smile, but didn't quite make it. "I'm a big girl. Can you just wait for me here? I won't be long."

"Take your time." I'd wait all day for her.

[Maybe my passionate love for The Office and John Krasinski is clouding my judgement, but Michael and Jenna are totally Jim and Pam. With a flat iron and some smokey eye make-up, Jenna Fischer would make a great Jenna. Hey, look at that! She really would!]

CHAPTER ELEVEN - JENNA

My hands felt sweaty and I swallowed back tears as the guard led me to Kayla's cell. I wasn't sure why I was so scared of seeing Kayla. I hated her. I wanted her to hurt like I had. I wanted her to wake up in the morning and wish she was dead, just like I had so many times.

"Calm down, Jenna," I whispered to myself. The guard gave me a funny look. I stayed behind him as he unlocked Kayla's cell and yelled, "Evans! You've got a visitor." She stood up as I approached her slowly. The guard locked me in [!] and went down the hall [double !].

"Jenna!" She cried, her eyes lighting up. "I was hoping you'd come."

"Hi." I couldn't meet her eyes. Kayla noticed my nervousness and smiled shyly. "I know it must have been hard for you to come today."

"It was hard," I admitted. "I don't know why I did, actually." Our conversation was interrupted by the guard. [Yeah, it's probably best not to leave a baby killer alone with the victim's mother for more than, say, ZERO SECONDS.] He unlocked the door and let in a woman carrying a small bundle in her arms. "It's time for her feeding," she said. I didn't see a bottle. Kayla must have been breastfeeding.

She took the infant from the woman, and then she and the guard left after we were locked in again.

[This is the craziest, most lax correctional facility ever. Well, maybe not quite. Anyone remember Dangerous Women? It was like a female Oz for the nineties. That place was pretty awesome, too.]

Kayla unbuttoned her blouse, and the tiny baby immediately started drinking her mother's milk. [What's Kayla doing wearing a "blouse" in jail? The least she could do is don a freakin' jumpsuit for special guests.]

She was a beautiful baby. Dark brown hair framed her face, and as I leaned over to get a better look at her, I saw that she had chocolate brown eyes. She was so tiny! I knew premature babies were small, but this one looked like she had been swallowed by the blanket. Tears came to my eyes. Would Mary Katherine had looked so precious?

"She's beautiful," I whispered. Kayla smiled and gently carressed her daughter's cheek. "Isn't she? Did you hear that, Katherine? Jenna thinks your pretty, too," she told the baby.

"Katherine?" I asked, puzzled.

"That's her name."

I closed my eyes and put my hands on my head. I felt dizzy as the tears fell down my cheeks. She had named her baby Katherine. How could she? Didn't she know how many painful memories that name gave me?

Yes, of course she did. She didn't want to make up. She wanted to tease me with the fact that she had a baby to hold, and not me.

[Oh, c'mon. Without the "Mary" it's totally different. Like teal and aquamarine!]

"Jenna? Jenna, what's wrong?" Kayla asked, concerned.

"You - you named her Katherine..." I sobbed. I started to shake uncontrollably. I slid to the floor. "My baby--Mary Katherine...." [Shit, bitch is fading fast! Has nobody gotten her into counseling yet?]

"Oh Jenna! I'm sorry!!" Kayla looked like she wanted to hug me, but with the baby in her arms it was impossible. "I named her Katherine so her sister wouldn't be forgotten." [I was just trying to be nice. Way to make it all about you, Jenna!]

"Guard!!" I yelled, struggling to get up. He unlocked the door, and I walked out unsteadily. "Bye, K - Kayla." As I heard her shout after me, I hardened my heart.

I could never forget.

* * *

Hours later, I lay in my bed, going over the events of the day in my mind.

When I had reached Michael, I was still sobbing. He had reached out to hug me, but I'd pushed him away. He'd drove me home and I'd ran to my room and sobbed for hours. [Sob. Boy, I liked word, huh?] My parents had tried to help me, just like they had tried after the funerals, but I pushed them away, too. They didn't understand. Nobody could. [It's not supposed to happen this way! I'm supposed to go first. I've always been ready to go first! I - I don't think I can take this! I - I don't think I can take this! I - I just wanna HIT somebody 'til they feel as bad as I do! I just wanna HIT something! I wanna HIT IT HARD!]

[I hope I didn't say that out loud just now.]

After a while, my thoughts began to focus on Katherine. She was so perfect! A baby so precious didn't deserve a life with a mother behind bars. She needed someone to give her security and love. [Now, to be fair, Kayla can offer her plenty of security. Six years and one ankle bracelet's worth!]

I could give her that. I wanted to give her that. I needed her. My arms ached to hold her. I felt connected to her by David. At that moment I knew what I needed to do.

[Watch Dying Young again. What? It's a really good movie!]

-------

Poor Jenna. Girl done lost her mind.

Tragic Love Friday

There's been a lot of Drama on TLF. Angry break-ups. Drunken one-night stands. Vicious murders staged in the parking lot of America's favorite dessert establishment. Prison sentences. And of course, life-changing pregnancy tests. It's about time we had some goshdarn happy news, don't you think?

I do, too.

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CHAPTER NINE - KAYLA (CONTINUED)

Security was called, and they rushed me to the prison's hospital wing. Mike was right next to me, giving me words of encouragement. "Everything's gonna be fine," he said. "Just relax."

How could I relax? I was about to give birth!

I was put in a room on a bed. A doctor and a nurse were fiddling around with some medical thingamajiggs [yes I wrote "thingamajigs," I swear to God]. The nurse took my pulse and poked me with a needle. "What did you do?" I cried. She smiled. "I just gave you something to help you relax." [Apparently jail-funded medical wings are on the cutting edge of technology with their ability to administer epidurals in your wrist.] She looked at Michael. "You'll have to leave, young man." [Because men aren't allowed to see vaginas outside of the bedroom?]

"Huh? Oh, sure." He waved. "I'll be right outside."

I shook my head. "No," I gasped. "G-go to Jenna and k-keep her com-p-p-any."

"If you say so. I'll be here first thing tomorrow." [Noble fight, Michael. Really. I'm touched.]

"You'd bet - Ow!!" Another contraction left me breathless.

[Look how self-sacrificing Kayla is, putting Jenna's emotional state over her own labor pains. Kinda makes you forget all about the killings, doesn't it?]

[It really does. I love you, Kayla!]

That shot the nurse gave me didn't do a thing to relax me. During the fourteen hours I was in labor, I had never been more tense. [Back to the drawing board, guys!]

I was tired, sweaty, and sick to death of being told to PUSH! I was about to give up when the doctor cried, "I see the head! Come on, Kayla - keep pushing!"

"I can't!" I cried, but I managed to give a few good pushes. A baby's cry filled the air.

At last. My daughter was in my reach! Shaking with exhaustion and delight, I held out my arms. The umbilical cord was cut, the nurse washed off my baby, wrapped her in a white blanket and then I was cradling my daughter in my arms.

Oh, she was beautiful. A patch of brown hair covered her head. Her fingers and toes were so tiny, so perfect. She stopped wailing long enough to peer at me through half-closed lids. A small yawn slipped through her lips. I smiled and cried happy tears as I hugged her to my chest. She was so small, like a baby doll! I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"Hi, there," I whispered. "I'm your mommy. You really don't know me, but you will. Because I love you so much, yes I do!"

She looked so much like David; I couldn't help thinking about the other little girl that he would have had. That's when I decided on a name.

"I name you Katherine, in honor of your dead half-sister, Mary Katherine Meddows. Katherine Marie, that's who you are," I told her. [Where does Kayla think she is, making grand pronouncements like that? Also, seems a tad crass to speak about death in front of your infant, yes?] [Also also, stealing Jenna's baby name won't piss her off at all!] [Also also also, BABIES! WAAAAANT ONE!] She started to cry again, and the nurse took her from me.

"Try to sleep," she said.

I was out like a light in 10 seconds.

* * *

I was in the [prison] hospital for 3 days, and during those days I spent every waking minute with Katherine. I could spend hours just staring at her with amazement. I couldn't believe that someone as undeserving as me gave birth to such an exquisite baby as Katherine.

The most magical times were when the nurse brought her in to be breastfed. She shivered next to me as her little mouth drank the milk from my breast. She needed me, and would soon love me like I loved and cherished her. Katherine made up for everything that had gone wrong in my life. If only David could have seen how wonderful his daughter turned out to be. At times I thought he was sneaking peeks at her from Heaven [and cursing your name, no doubt].

I had been back at jail for about a week when I received the phone call.

The guard tapped on the bar door. "Come on, Evans. Phone call for you."

Puzzled, I went with him. Who could it be? Michael? Nah. My parents? Probably not them, either. They had cut off all contact from me the day I was brought to prison. [And to think, hers were the most loving, attentive parents in the bunch!] "Hello?"

"Kayla. It's me."

"Jenna?" I almost dropped the phone. "Jenna, is that you?"

"Yeah. Kayla, we need to talk." Her voice sounded unsure.

"Oh Jenna! Yes, we do need to talk about...things." My eyes brimmed with happy tears. She wanted to talk to me! "I'm so glad you called!"

"You are?"

"Uh-huh. I'm so sorry about everything, Jenna. I want to make it all up to you." [Your next pedicure's on me!]

Her voice hardened a little. "I've lost too much, Kayla. You cant bring my boyfriend and little girl back to me."

I felt so stupid. She was still hurting. She had every right to be.

"So," Jenna said, her voice cracking a little, "Michael told me that you had your baby about a week or two ago."

I felt guilty as I talked about Katherine. "Yeah. A little girl. She's adorable." [Motherhood is so rewarding and fulfilling and I've never experienced such unselfish love in all of my life! Not that you would know anything about that. My bad.]

"I - I cant talk anymore, Kayla." Jenna sounded like she was fighting tears. "I'll visit you soon." The line went dead.

My heart was heavy [but not as heavy as her ankle bracelet] as the guard led me back to my cell. It had hurt too much for Jenna to hear me talk [incessantly] about my [wonderful, fabulous, so-glad-she's-not-dead-too] daughter.

One day, though, Jenna and I would work past our problems and become close again. Even during the time I hated her [and planned her exit from this world], I'd missed our closeness.

It would just take time to get our friendship back on track.

I sighed. Time was one thing I'd have a lot of for the next 6 years.

[The more you know, the more you kick yourself for not including a ski mask and unmarked car as must-have props in your deliciously murderous plan.]

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OMG, this whole thing reeks so much of All My Children and V.C. Andrews and 90210 I can hardly stand it. What do you think of Kayla? Can she be redeemed in your eyes? Also, if Brenda and Kelly were both carrying Dylan's baby, do you think Donna Martin would've been as dumb an accomplice as Cassie? Because you KNOW that if Kayla had buddied up with the likes of Andrea Zuckerman she'd be getting some post-partum action with David as we speak. Because in soap land there's no such thing as a six-week waiting period.

Tragic Love Friday

It's just after one o'clock as I type this and already I've received three inquiries about today's TLF installment, so now's not the time for small talk. Although can I just say again how much I love you guys for indulging me with this? Also, today is my deadline for submitting a brief overview of the one-hour blogging workshop I'm doing for Saint Joe this fall (still no word on the class yet), so if anyone wants to offer thoughts on what would entice you to sign up for such a course, I'm all ears.

Also also, in last week's comments section it was pointed out that the doctor wrongly told Jenna she'd been involved in the accident, since it was actually David who felt the full force of the car's impact. Good eye, Erika!

And on with the show! Remember, all typos remain intact. Just so you don't think I'm a complete moron.

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CHAPTER NINE - KAYLA

Cassie and I were in court, about to be sentenced for our crime. My friend's face had no expression; her eyes had a far away look to them, and I realized that I had lost Cassie, too.

We had our hands cuffed in front of us, and security officers had a firm hold on me [You've really got a hold on me....] but I managed to turn my head and glance at the people present.

My parents were right up front, looking like statues, showing no emotion. I knew I'd hurt them deeply, so deeply that no emotions could express what they felt. (Cassie's mom wasn't there; she was "grieving" in Florida). A few journalists and reporters were there, and a handful of interested bystanders, but that was it.

"All rise for the Honerable Judge Williams," the baliff cried, and I did so nervously. The judge glared at us. "Be seated," he ordered, and glanced over some papers. "Kayla Evans, on the charges of 2 accounts of involentary manslaughter, and 1 charge of attempted murder, how do you plead?"

[Is it even possible for one person to be charged three times for a single death? Thanks for all the insight, People's Court.]

I swallowed down tears. "Guilty, Your Honor."

"Cassie Donovan, on the charges of conspiracy to commit murder and being an accomplice of involentary manslaughter and an accomplice to commit murder [Where's the charge for the kitchen sink?], how do you plead?"

In a loud voice, Cassie said, "I am guilty of all the charges against me, Honerable Judge Williams." Her smile was mad. [Apparently in Frema's world, this is how crazy people act? Somebody hold me, I can't type this anymore.]

[Except I totally can.]

There was a soft titter in the room. The Judge pounded his gavel. He focused on our faces. [Bow chicka bow bow. Also, whaa?]

"It saddens and angers me to have two minors standing before me, waiting to be sentenced for such heinious crimes. [The extra "i" in "heinous" isn't a typo. I actually used to pronounce the word this way until last year. How did I make it past high school?] It's because of people like you that mothers can't even let their children go to the park by themselves. [Is it, though? Because a good talking-to on the benefits of birth control seems so much more applicable here.]

"I have glanced over both of your school records, and both are unblemished. There is also no police record for either of you. However harmless you seem, though, you killed not only an innocent young man, but a helpless fetus. You must be punished." He stared at Cassie.

"Cassie Donovan, I hereby sentence you to 3 years in the state prison, and after a year and a half has been served, if you make parole, you are to then be tranfered to the Women's Sanitariam, where you are to reside for 2 years. Therapy is required."

[Thank God I have an office instead of a cubicle, because I'm laughing out loud right now. At this point it's so obvious I was just pulling shit out of my ass and using any legal word I could remember.]

I glanced at Cassie. Her eyes were closed, and her face was wet with tears. She had been lucky, though. Her lawyer was able to get the involuntary [finally realized there's no "e" in "involuntary"] manslaughter charges dropped because she wasn't the one driving.

Then it was my turn.

"Kayla Evans, I hereby sentence you to 6 years in the State Prison. And though you will not be sent to the Sanitariam [LOL again], therapy is required for all 6 years." He stood up. "This court is adjourned."

"All rise!" shouted the baliff.

Minutes later, Cassie and I were escorted out of the courtroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michael [Welcome back, buddy!] with Jenna in the back.

Jenna looked terrible. Even from far away you could see the circles under her eyes. She looked like she was made of glass. It was a good thing Michael had an arm around her; otherwise she'd probably fall to the floor. [Kayla did wonder why his hand was on Jenna's breast but thought it best not to ask questions.]

You did that to her, I told myself when I was seated in the police car. I was ashamed, for I no longer hated her. The night before, I realized that it wasn't her fault she'd fallen in love with my ex-boyfriend. Love showed up at the weirdest times, and between different people. It was something that could not be ignored.

[I suppose when you kill your ex-best friend's unborn baby and soon-to-be husband you can afford to be generous with forgiveness. Also, is anyone else flashing to mental images of Glenn Close and dead bunnies?]

Yes, she had hurt me. But my pain couldn't compare to her anguish of losing David and her little girl. Jenna hadn't deserved that pain, but I had been selfish, cruel, and downright evil.

[But you're still pregnant, so you win!]

All I could do now was pray to God that Jenna could forgive me. Someday.

(7 MONTHS LATER)

"Michael!" I cried. I got up slowly from my bed to greet my first visitor since I'd arrived in prison.

"Yeah." He hugged me quickly, looking a little uncomfortable. "I - I'm sorry I haven't visited you before. I didn't want to upset Jenna."

I nodded, smiling a little. "I understand. I'm just glad you came to see me, Mike." His eyes looked sad. "I haven't forgiven you, Kayla. Too much damage has been done."

"I know."

"No, I don't think you do," he snapped, anger replacing sadness. "Jenna is still grieving over David and her baby. Do you know that she has nightmares about you? That she dreams of you pulling out her insides? Did you know that she wakes up reaching for her baby? She visits David's grave every week and talks for hours to his tombstone." Michael's voice cracked. "The worst part is, I do everything in my power to help her. I'm at her side always. I make dumb jokes, I take her out, and...I'm still losing her, Kayla." He wiped tears from his eyes, and that's when I realized that he cared for her much more than I could have guessed. I could hear the love in his voice when he said her name. I didn't know how he could take it, being so close to Jenna, yet not letting her know how much he loved her.

[If this were a real soap opera, the above paragraph/scene would be the one submitted for Michael's shot at Best Supporting Actor In A Drama Series.]

He shook his head as if to clear it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

I smiled. "Only you, Michael, would apologize to someone who's in jail for murder."

He looked around at my cell. "So, how have things been here with you?" My smile faded. "Not too good. Being in jail is bad enough, but when you're eight months pregnant, it seems 10 times worse."

"When the baby's born, will you be able to take care of it while you're in this place?"

"Only for a year. Then either my parents take care of her or she'll be put in a foster home. And please don't refer to my baby as "it." The baby's going to be a girl."

[Do you like how flippant Kayla is about future housing arrangements for her child? Also, with my intimate and not-at-all-faulty knowledge of state policy regarding the rights of mothers serving time in correctional facilities, why am I not writing for Law and Order?]

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I had an ultrasound two months ago."

"Oh." Michael glanced at his watch. "Kayla, I've gotta go."

"OK." I hugged him hard. "Thank you so much for coming, Mike. It helped me a lot."

Michael called out to the guard. As he walked away, I cried, "wait Michael!"

He spun around. "What?" I took a deep breath. "Will you please tell Jenna that I'm sorry? I caused her so much pain, it's the least I can offer her."

"Sure." He was about to leave again when I called him back. "Now what?"

"Tell her that I want to talk to her. That I'd really appreciate it if she came to see me so I could tell her all this in person." [While she's at it, ask her to bring me a ham sandwich!]

"I'll be sure to tell her."

"Thanks. Thanks for everything."

As my friend walked away, I felt a sudden pain in my stomache that brought me to my knees. I screamed. Mike and the guard came rushing back. The door was unlocked quickly. "What's wrong?" the guard asked. I was about to answer when the pain hit me again, knocking the wind out of me. Something inside me popped [more popping!], and I felt liquid ooze through my legs.

Michael noticed. His eyes widened. "Her water broke! She's going into labor!"

[Can your water break in the middle of a contraction? I have no idea.]

-------

You guys do such a great job snarking on this stuff. So have at it!

Tragic Love Friday

I hate the Indiana BMV.

It began in July, when my ass went numb in a plastic chair after waiting ninety minutes for my number to be called, only to be informed the new computer system had a few "bugs" and couldn't perform the activities necessary to change the last name on my IDs. I went back at the beginning of December and waited another hour to be sent to the Social Security office for a numi report confirming my number, because even though I had updated my card, the number was still attached to my maiden name.

The following Friday, I sat for forty-five minutes in ANOTHER plastic chair next to a woman who smelled like toenail fungus with eight other people in for the same reason I was, eight other people who probably received the same condescending eyeroll from the clerk when requesting their numi reports because she's sick and tired of the BMV sending everybody and their taxidermist to the damn Social Security office.

Last Saturday I went to the BMV again, where thankfully there was no numbing of the ass; instead, I stood at the clerk's desk for an hour and fifteen minutes, but I was wearing my new Simple shoes, plus I left with an updated license and ID, so no worries. It was all good in the 'hood.

Today I received a letter from the BMV. It states that my driver's license application is missing a signature and sufficient proof of my Social Security number. "Please bring in your original Social Security card," it says.

You mean scribbling the information on the back of my "Get out of jail free" card wasn't good enough? The fuck?

Obviously I'm more than a little pissed, because not only will I be stepping foot into the damn BMV for the fourth time in a seven-month timespan, I also have to fit it in before my ten o'clock dentist appointment, at which time a metal post will be implanted in my gum. It will take every ounce of will power not to march into that facility, grab the receptionist by the collar, and beat her head against the countertop until she fully grasps the incompetence of her employer and sends me on my merry way. Or until she dies. Whichever comes first.

But you don't care about my BMV troubles. You want to know who died in the Dairy Queen parking lot. Some friends you are.

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CHAPTER EIGHT - JENNA

I fell to my knees trying to run out of the car's way.

At that moment, I felt David's strong arms push me towards the sidewalk. I stumbled on my feet and fell hard on my stomache. I felt something pop inside of me. In the corner of my eye, I saw the car smash into my boyfriend, throwing him into the Dairy Queen parking lot. It drove away.

"Oh God!!" I screamed. My hands grabbed my belly. It felt like my insides were oozing out of me.

Then I blacked out.

* * *

The first faces I saw when I woke up were Dr. Foremann's and my parents'. They were speaking in low voices, and my mother was crying. I tried to speak, but only a high-pitched sound came out. All 3 of them looked at me sadly.

"Oh Jenna! My poor baby!" Mom cradled me awkwardly in her arms. Dad just squeezed my hand.

"Don't try to talk," Dr. Foremann ordered. "You're very weak."

[At this point I can only assume they're in the ER. Would your ob/gyn meet you at the emergency room?]

I ignored him. "What's wrong?" I asked, my voice hoarse. "Is my baby OK? Where's David?"

"Calm down," my doctor said gently. He looked at my parents. "I'll need a minute alone with her." They nodded and hurried out. [Because in Frema, M.D.'s world, apparently physicians don't allow family members to comfort patients when hearing bad news?]

I felt empty inside. My arms tried to feel my belly, but I was too weak.

"Jenna," he began in a kindly voice, "a car hit you. You have a mild concussion, and a few cracked ribs."

[I have no idea what it means to crack a rib, but I remember hearing about those types of injuries in my Nancy Drew books. They're totally real, right?]

"My baby..."

"I'm sorry, Jenna. She's gone."

"No." I couldn't breathe. Tears instantly blinded my vision. Dr. Foremann grabbed my hand. "I'm so sorry, Jenna. The impact of the car was too much. She was killed instantly."

[Now, Doctor, don't sugarcoat the news. Be as blunt as you can--you know, REALLY rub it in.]

My head hurt, and my hands finally felt my stomache. The bulge I had loved to touch so much was gone.

[There is a double entendre here somewhere, itching to break the surface, but I'll refrain out of respect for the dead.]

"No, please not my baby," I whispered. "You're joking. Please say you're joking. Tell me Mary Katherine is OK. Tell me!!" I sobbed.

[Because healthcare professionals are famous for their fake-miscarriage pranks.]

I heard the anguish in my doctor's voice as he continued. "You could have been more seriously injured if Mr. Donovan hadn't pushed you out of the way."

For the first time I thought about David. My hero. [Actually, it's the second, but Dr. Foremann was too busy shaking with excitement over the thought of telling you about your dead baby to give your question his full attention.]

"I hate to be the bearer of even more bad news." I heard him take a shaky breath. "He was also killed instantly."

"Oh God no," I whispered.

I had ignored him for days, called him every name in the book, and he still didn't hesitate to save my life.

And now he was gone.

[Along with his Mickey D's pension. Dammit, Kayla!]

* * *

"As we lay David Anthony Donovan to rest [I actually underlined his initials on the page, just in case readers missed the connection between his name and the fatherhood role he never had a chance to fulfill. It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife!], let us remember that he is now with God, and that he will suffer no more. Amen."

"Amen," I echoed. His casket was lowered into the ground, and I felt a part of me die with him.

David's death had caught the attention of the media, so a few TV reporters were present. They were also there when a special service had been done for little Mary Katherine the day before.

A lot had happened during the four days before my loved ones' funerals.

Kayla and Cassie were caught and taken in to the station. (A witness had remembered the car and the description of the passengers in it.) They didn't deny hitting me and David, so they were charged on 2 accounts of involentary manslaughter and attempted murder. [And it's Frema, juris doctorate to the rescue! She can marry two contradictory charges in a single bound! Also makes great fries!] After the charges, they told the whole story. When Cassie realized that David had been killed, she went into a state of shock. She didn't eat, didn't speak, didn't move. She had become like a recluse, isolating herself from the rest of the world.

Kayla just cried. Whenever she was shown on TV, tears were streaming down her face, making herself look like the wounded victim.

Rot in hell, Kayla.

As for myself, I holed up in my room and grieved. Grieved for my daughter, and for David, and all that could've been. [Marriage, infidelity, Big Macs, divorce....] In one instant, everything that I loved most had been taken from my grasp.

Cassie I could understand and forgive. She had tried to save her brother, tried to protect him by trying to kill me. But Kayla was another story. She wanted David because she had no one else. She had been greedy and selfish. [OK, yes, she killed your boyfriend, but to be fair, she had him first!] Well, God had punished her for her actions. She'd lost David, too. But she hadn't been punished enough.

-------

And there are still fifty-three pages to go! You are so lucky.

Tragic Love Friday

TGI to the muthaf*cking F.

The work week after a lengthy vacation is always hard. Getting sick makes it harder. Throw in the anticipation of the first weekend since mid-December that you and your husband can enjoy each other at home, and it's almost unbearable.

This means I'm not in for lots of blah blah before jumping right in to TLF. In addition to typing out text and adding my oh-so-witty commentary, I also fulfilled the promise I made in last week's comments to provide you with photos for the characters featured in the story. Everyone still pretty much looks like this in my head, with the exception of David. NOW I imagine him as Eric from That Seventies Show, but when I was a teenager, he more closely embodied an adolescent version of Randy Wooten, my unrequited childhood love. Why haven't I written a post about him yet?

And now, on with the soon-to-be-bloody show.

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CHAPTER SIX - KAYLA

I called Cassie right after Jenna's phone call, and she rushed right over.

"I don't know what to do," I cried. "David cant and wont leave Jenna, now that she's so far along in her pregnancy. I'm going to need financial support. How can I get what I need from him if he's sending money to her?" [Baby daddies stretched too thin: Next Oprah.]

"You need to get rid of her," Cassie said suddenly. "Then David can give you everything you and your baby deserve."

[Um, I was just going to suggest getting a laywer and suing his ass, but murder works, too.]

I was stunned. "You cant be serious."

"I am."

"But...what about her baby?" [What about her LIFE?]

"You're having a baby now. Don't worry about Jenna's."

My mind was racing. "I can't believe we're talking about this!" Cassie grabbed my arm. "Listen to me! You worry about the messy details now, but when you've got a screaming sick baby, and David can't send you enough money because he's supporting HER brat, you'll wish you'd just killed the bitch!" [So Lifetime!] She let go of my arm, and I glared at her. My friend softened a little. "I'm sorry I yelled, but you need to know ALL your options. If you and Jenna both have Dave's baby, someone's gonna get the short end of the stick. And that person will be YOU, Kayla. You and your baby."

"How--how could I do it?" I asked, swallowing hard. [Apparently one can be talked into the homicide of a pregnant woman in eight seconds. Who knew?]

"A simple car accident is all it's gonna take. [This just might be my favorite line of dialogue EVER.] And Kayla, you won't be alone. I'll help you every step of the way."

"Are you sure it would work?" I whispered.

"Leave it to me. I'll plan everything out." [That's what friends are for!]

I closed my eyes. "OK. Let's do it."

* * *
The next few days were spent planning "the accident." What I was going to do with Cassie didn't sound so bad when I called it that. Meanwhile, Cassie kept me informed about David and Jenna. She still wouldn't talk to him.

After 5 days, the plotting was done. We only had one problem. "How can we be sure where Jenna is?" I asked. Cassie shrugged. "Lately, David's been following her every move. I'll find out from him." [Why not follow the victim instead? Amateurs.]

"Nobody else can get hurt," I declared. "It's bad enough I'm killing one person." [It really is!]

"Don't worry," Cassie told me. "Everything will be OK."

"I hope so."

CHAPTER SEVEN - CASSIE

Today was the day we decided to put "the accident" into effect, and I was starting to feel nervous for the first time. What if something went wrong?

At home, I waited for David. I needed to find out from him where Jenna would be. Finally, he walked through the door. "Hey, Dave!"

He smiled halfheartedly and sat at the kitchen table. I joined him. "What's wrong?" He buried his face in his hands, and I could barely hear what he was saying. "Everything. Steiner's always on my back, Mom decided to go on another vacation, and Jenna still wont talk to me."

"When was the last time you tried talking to her?" I asked, wheels turning in my head.

"Yesterday. I called her and she hung up on me." A tear rolled down my brother's face. "She'll never forgive me."

I gave him a hug. "Dont give up on her Davey!" A thought occured to me. "David, call her right now."

"Why bother?"

"Because she can't ignore you forever."

Slowly, he picked up the phone and dialed her number. "Hello? Jenna, it's David--Please don't hang up! Here me out! Yeah....I'm so sorry, Jenna. I never meant to---I know."

Their conversation went on for a few minutes, then David hung up. A dazed smile was on his face. "She's agreed to talk to me. I'm going to take her out for ice cream." [If he REALLY wanted to save money, he should've just taken her to his Mickey D's franchise and thrown his weight around a bit. I'm sure Steiner would've tossed the pregnant lady a sundae.]

I grinned. "Great! What ice cream place are you taking her to?"

"We're just going to Dairy Queen." He grabbed his coat and ran out the door. "Thanks for the advice, Cas. I'll see you later."

"Good luck," I yelled. Then I called Kayla. "Kayla, I'm picking you up. We've got work to do." [Time to destroy my only brother's joy and happiness by killing his unborn daughter! Then, Blizzards!]

By the time we got to Dairy Queen, David's car was already in the parking lot. I could see them in the window. Next to me, Kayla was squirming around. "Let's switch seats now," I said. She looked confused. "You're going to be the one to hit her," I said. "Don't you want to be?" She nodded and took her place in the driver's seat.

[No mention of disguises, rental cars, inconspicuous hiding places--not even a pair of binoculars! My dead dog could've hatched a better plan.]

A half hour later, Jenna and my brother came out of the ice cream place. They were holding hands. Kayla's face looked distorted with anger. Her hands gripped the wheel.

They didn't go to David's car. Jenna pointed to a baby's clothing store across the street.

[But David was free! If he knew he didn't love Jenna, why go back to her? Why not just call it quits and offer to pay child support so he could be with the woman he actually wanted? Men are so stupid, I swear.]

"Start the car," I ordered. Kayla slowly pulled out of the lot. They were in the middle of the street. "Now!" I shouted.

The car's speed was heading towards 60 as Kayla drove towards Jenna.

At that moment, David looked up and saw the car, and a frightened look came upon his face. Jenna was a few steps ahead of him. She, too, noticed the car, but Kayla was now driving at 80. There was no way Jenna could get out of the way in time. [No way could she get up to that fast a speed without anybody noticing. There'd be a dozen dead bodies in her wake before she ever reached those two.]

I shut my eyes and held on to the seat for dear life.

SMACK!! The car whammed into somebody. Kayla screamed, but I knew we were successful when I heard Jenna's terrified cries.

The deed had been done.

-------

OK, so what the hell do you think just happened?

Tragic Love Friday

Today marks the beginning of a four-day weekend for me, a day I'd like to spend catching up on two weeks' worth of All My Children episodes but will probably use to run boring errands like finally updating my driver's license to reflect my married last name and visiting the dentist to take bite-wing x-rays of a tooth most likely infected with a cavity. Luke and I were there just last month for cleanings, during which I scheduled a post implant to replace the molar I had pulled two years ago. I would've had the bite wing taken then if my period hadn't been a week and a half late, causing me to think I was pregnant, but of course it came the next day and I was a little sad but mostly pissed about having to make the thirty-minute drive to the doctor's office before my January 12th appointment. The things I do to avoid radiation exposure to my future children.

But what about Kayla's and Jenna's little rug rats? That's the real question of the hour.

-------

CHAPTER FIVE - JENNA

I walked out of St. Joseph's Hospital feeling like I could fly. My doctor, Dr. Foremann, had given me an excellent report. "Your little girl's doing great. The next time I see you, young lady, will be in the delivery room." [Because women who are seven months pregnant could never benefit from a doctor's watchful eye. Frema, M.D. strikes again!]

I had really hoped David could be there, but he had to work. Poor David. He seemed so stressed out. I decided to stop at McDonald's and let him know the good news about Mary Katherine.

When I got there, business was slow. David was slipping on his jacket. His face paled as I walked over to him and gave him a kiss. "Jenna, what are you doing here?" he asked. "I just got back from my appointment. The baby's doing great," I said, smiling. David just stared at me. "We have to talk."

"Sure. About what?" He didn't answer, only led me outside to where his car was parked. "First let me tell you that I never wanted to hurt you," he began.

"What are you talking about?"

"It all started last month. One night I was with Mike, and we had a few beers. You and I had a little arguement that day, and somehow..." he bowed his head. "I went to Kayla's house. We talked about my mom, you, the baby. She listened to me. Old feelings were brought up. Jenna ... we made love." 

I felt dizzy. David noticed and tried to put an arm around me, but I pushed him away. "Don't touch me!" I yelled. "You bastard! Don't ever touch me again!"

"Jenna, I'm so sorry. I feel terrible." He took a deep breath. "Today Kayla called me at work and said she was pregnant with my child." [Oh, that would've been a fun scene to write! How could I have let that gem slip by?]

That did it. My fist went smashing into David's jaw. He stumbled a few steps backward, but managed to stay on his feet.

I was crying. My eyes blinded by tears, I ran to my car. David was right behind me. "Jenna, wait! Let me explain!" [I think you covered just about everything but positioning, buddy. She gets it.] I started the engine and rolled down my window. Throwing a glass car ornament at him [do these even exist?], I screamed, "Take your explanation and shove it where the sun won't shine!"

I managed to get home without killing anyone. I ran into my house and picked up the phone, punching in Kayla's number. She answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Kayla, you slut! This is Jenna. [Ya think?] I'm just calling to let you know that if you want the asshole who slept with you, take him. He's all yours." I slammed the receiver down.

"Calm down," I told myself. "Don't do anything that would hurt Mary Katherine."

That was the only reason I didn't go kill David. The stress of killing him could hurt the baby.

I needed to talk to someone, or else I'd go crazy. So I hopped back into my car and drove straight to Michael's house. As soon as he opened the door, I collapsed into his arms. "Jenna! My God!" [If this were a TV script, this would be a perfect place to fade to commercial, don't you think?] He scooped me up and carried me to the couch. [How muscular must Michael be