Janie tried very hard to think of a way out without humiliating herself.

"Look, Harrison-" she put her hands on his broad shoulders "You've got 

to stop it." 

Harrison looked down at her and the moonlight hit his face.  He was

cute, no denying that.  His blue eyes and bleached hair made lots of 

girls swoon- once.  Because in spite of being on of the cutest guys at 

Crestmore High, Harrison was kind of a jerk.  And Janie didn't take 

well to jerks. 

She had no idea why he had asked her out- most boys stayed as far away

from her as possible.  They had seen the news reports, read the 

newspapers, been told the whole grotesque, eye-catching story.  Even 

after eight years, it made an impression. 

But Harrison Williamson had asked her out anyway, and more out of shock

than anything else, she had said yes.  Her first real date, at 

seventeen.  And it had to turn out this way. 

"Why?"  he asked, his lips against her lower neck.  His hand moved to

her waist under her shirt. 

"It's our first date," she hissed, feeling the cold hardness of her

living room wall behind her as he pressed against her.  And I know you 

don't care anything about me. 

"Don't act all innocent with me, Janie Davins.  We both know you don't

come from a family of priests." 

Janie lowered her eyes in shame and allowed him to continue for a few

more seconds, then she pushed at him again.  He sighed angrily and 

grabbed his keys.  "Fine.  But don't count on a second date." 

"I wasn't," she snapped, and the door slammed. 

"Evan, if you are not down here in about three seconds stuffing your

face, I'm going to ki-"  Janie put a piece of brown hair behind her ear 

and reviewed her choice of words.  "Kiss you." 

"I'm coming,"  Evan hopped down the stairs two at a time, X-Men book bag

already on his back.  Janie scraped the rest of the fried eggs off the 

frying pan and into her brother's plate with the spatula.  She poured 

both of their orange juice, then sat down. 

"We're out of pickles, so you'll have to have a peanut butter and jelly

sandwich, like every other kid in America."  She stabbed her eggs with 

her fork.  Sticky yellow blood flooded the plate. 

"Yuck," said Evan, mouth full.  "I'll throw it away." 

"You'd better not throw it away.  We're not exactly the Gates family

here, kid."  She stuffed the rest of her egg in her mouth. "But I'm 

going to the store today, so you can go back to good old pickles and 

mayonnaise soon enough." 

"Is Dad coming this weekend?" Evan gulped his juice. 

"Your dad is coming on Saturday to take you bowling." 

"Aren't you coming?  You can be on my team."  He grinned at her, and

Janie wondered how she was going to get braces on him, without going 

bankrupt. 

"Even if I wanted to come, which I most certainly do not, I have a

project to do.  Ohmigosh, it's eight thirty-five."  She jumped up, 

sopped up the last of the egg-juice with half a piece of toast and 

crammed it in her mouth.  She tossed him his bag lunch, fed the cat, 

and put the dishes in the sink.  Janie sneaked a look in the mirror 

hanging in the living room. 

She was thin, bony even, with brown hair that fell a few inches past her

shoulders, parted slightly on the right and curling in a bit at the 

ends, with large blue eyes and freckles on her shoulders.  "Ugh," she 

said, and ran out the door to their small condominium.  Evan was 

already in the Jeep. 

"I'm telling you, Nora," Janie slammed her locker door shut.  "He's a

complete sicko."  The girls walked slowly down the hall amid the other 

students. 

Nora shrugged and snapped her gum.   "So he had sex with your mom when

he was eighteen-" 

"Seventeen." 

"Seventeen, whatever.  He doesn't seem so bad, despite what you've told

me about him.  So he made a mistake.  That doesn't make him a bad 

person. You know?" 

"Nor, he wrecked my life."  Janie tucked her hair behind her ears and

squinted as they walked into the sunshine.  "I gotta go.  I'll call 

you, 'kay?" 

"'Kay.  Bye." 

"Bye." 

"So.  Kid.  You've been kind of quiet."  Janie stopped at a red light

and turned to her brother. 

"Janie, do you remember what day it is?"   Evan picked at his book bag

strap. 

"Yeah," her voice was suddenly soft and hoarse.  "I remember what day it

is.  But lets not think about it, okay?  We'll go crazy." 

"Okay," he said, and she gunned the engine. 

The phone rang as Janie was making dinner.  "Evan, get that, will you?"

she yelled over Phil Vassar's voice. 

"Hello?" She continued listening to the radio.  "Yeah, it's two hearts,

one dream, I wouldn't trade it for anything, And I ask the Lord, every 

night, for just another day in Paradise . . ." 

"Hey!  Janie, guess what?" 

"What?" 

"Dad's coming for dinner tonight!  His flight was early!" 

Janie threw down the hot pads she'd been holding and half-ran into the

living room.  "Where's the phone?  Give me the phone." 

"He hung up." 

She put one hand on the side of her head.  "Why didn't you tell him to

talk to me?  Oh, gosh . . . I'm not sure if there's enough mac and 

cheese for three.  And besides . . . having to deal with him . ."  She 

looked up. Evan's bottom lip was getting bigger and bigger.  "Well, 

I'll work it out," she sighed.  "Somehow." 

The doorbell rang just as Janie had distributed the chopped-up hot dogs

in the macaroni and cheese.  She set the salad bowl beside it.  If only 

they had some dressing, and something besides lettuce and tomatoes in 

it . . . but they just didn't. 

"I'll get it!" 

"Oka-ay," said Janie, under her breath.  She poured water in her glass

and gave the last of the coke to the other two. 

"Hey, Ev," she heard Derek say. 

"Hey dad," said Evan, but his voice was muffled, and Janie knew they

were hugging.  She walked into the doorway of the kitchen and watched 

them. 

"Hi, Janie."  Derek said over Evan's head. 

"Hey."  She never knew quite what to say to Derek. 

Derek was dark, like Evan, with brown hair that was always just a tad

too long, and brown eyes.  His sideburns were a little longer than most 

men's, and he was tall and athletic-looking.  He wore jeans, a dark red 

sweater, and a brown leather duffel bag on his shoulder. 

He was only eight years older than Janie was, but she could never quite

relate to him.  How could her little brother's father be so young?  It 

wasn't right. 

"How's it going?" 

"Okay." 

"Where's your mom?  Evan said she was out- owwww!"  Evan climbed him

like a tree, onto his shoulders. 

"She had a business trip all of a sudden.  We're paying for this cute

little car she bought on impulse."  Janie never let Evan do the lying- 

he wasn't good at it, and she wanted him to stay that way. 

"Oh, yeah?  Sheesh, I haven't seen her in like a year."  He held onto

Evan's leg as he touched the ceiling, the overhead lamp, his father's 

thick hair. 

"Oh, I'm sure she's just dying to see you, and it's completely

accidental the way you keep missing each other."  She let her eyes 

roll, like kids at school did when they were yelled at. 

"Yeah, well."  He reached up and tickled Evan's armpits until he

squealed. 

"Come on.  Dinner." 

Derek dropped Evan into his chair, and Janie sat down. 

"Looks good," said Derek, being polite. 

"Evan, would you like to say the blessing?" 

"Okay," before Janie could fold her hands, Evan grabbed hers and his

father's, so she was forced to take Derek's.  "Rub a dub dub, thanks 

for the grub, yay God."  He opened his eyes and grinned at them. 

"Did you teach him that?" 

"Guilty."  He grinned at Evan, who grinned back. 

"Derek," she said, in a low voice "In this family we try to have a

little respect for the Almighty." 

"I think He appreciates a little variety.  Nobody was cursing Him, in

fact, I distinctly heard a 'yay' in there." 

She rolled her eyes again, this time automatically.  "Fine, whatever,"

she muttered, taking her napkin out of her lap and going to the sink to 

refill her glass. 

Derek stayed a few hours after dinner, playing Go Fish with Evan, who

persuaded her to join.  "Pul-eeeeze, Janie, it's more fun with three." 

At around nine-thirty, when Evan won the eighth game, Derek got up and

stretched.  "Think it's time for me to get to a motel." 

"Noo, don't go," said Evan, sounding so desperate something in Janie's

chest wrenched.  "Janie, can't he stay in my room?  There's two beds, 

and it's a Friday.  Oh, please?" 

"Evan, I'm sure that Derek would much rather sleep in a motel than here.

Now tell him good-bye and then we'll get ready for bed, okay?" 

"Dad, would you rather stay here, or go to a dumpy motel?" 

He's practically begging, she thought.  I was never like this with

either of my parents.  Probably because my mom yelled at me for 

wrinkling her clothes every time I tried to hug her and my dad was 

always telling me to go do my homework while he was going out the door 

to the bar. 

"I'd rather stay here- with Janie's permission."  He gave her a smile,

but Janie's facial muscles were frozen, and she couldn't return it. 

"Sure, okay," she gathered the cards into a stack and tapped them on the

table loudly. 

"Well, goodnight," he said, grinning at his father "You're coming up

soon, right?" 

"Soon," Derek promised. 

"And you'll tuck me in, in a few minutes?"  he asked Janie 

No, stay up! Part of Janie cried out, but she just nodded, hugged him

and reminded him to floss.  They watched him walk up the stairs. 

"Weird how your mom's never here," Derek said as soon as they heard the

water in the bathroom running.  He leaned back in his chair. 

"Well, she has to work a lot.  She got demoted, you know, when the

business changed hands.  Besides, she has a social life."  She fiddled 

with the cards. 

"What about you?  Do you have a social life?" 

"I'm not head cheerleader or anything, but I have friends."  she

answered, relieved that the topic had changed from her mother. 

"Boyfriend?" 

Her indigo eyes snapped upward to meet his.  "No.  I don't really have

time for dates." 

"Or makeup, either, from the look of that neck." 

Her hands froze.  Apparently Harrison was quite the Dirt Devil.  If only

she had looked in the mirror for more than two seconds that morning! 

"That . . . that was a mistake."  She muttered.  "Not that it's any of

your business."  She rose and began doing the dishes. 

"No, of course it's not," he said, and he said, and his voice was

softer, gentler. "Sorry."   She felt his eyes on her, judging her. 

"We'd better go tuck Evan in," she said "Or else he'll come back down

here to get us and get all wound up again."  She put the dish towel she 

had been using down. 

"Right," he said and followed her up the stairs. 

Evan was still awake, holding a Hardy Boys book, when they came in. 

"Hey, Ev, didn't know you were into that 150-page stufff."  Derek turned

Evan's desk chair around backwards and sat down on it. 

"I like it.  I want to know what happens.  We read it every night."  He

handed the blue book to Janie, and she sat down on the edge of his bed 

and began reading, until the brothers encountered a dark figure coming 

through the bushes.  "And that's the end of the chapter," she said, 

snapping the book shut. 

"Oh, please, a little more?" he asked, a sleepy lilt in his voice. 

"Nope.  Gotta wait till tomorrow night."  She tucked him in tighter. 

"Gonna be warm enough?" 

"Yeah." 

"Hey, where's Elvis the Bear?"  She looked for Evan's usual bedmate for

a moment before realizing she'd said the wrong thing. 

"I don't sleep with stuffed animals anymore, Janie," he snapped, looking

at Derek, his face red. 

"Why not?"  Derek asked "Elvis the Bear was an okay guy." 

"Oh.  Well, maybe he can come back.  Just this once.  He's under the

bed." 

Janie retrieved the bear from where he had been shoved, gave him to

Evan, and kissed her brother's hair very quickly. 

"Elvis too!" 

"Elvis too."  She kissed the bear between his ears.  "Night, Kiddo," she

said, getting up. 

Derek kissed both the boy and the bear.  "Night," he said "I'll be back

here in a few, so whatever you do, don't go to sleep." 

"I won't." 

"Not for anything.  All I want you to think is, Not gonna go to sleep,

not gonna go to sleep, over and over.  Got it?" 

"Okay, dad." 

"Remember now." 

"I will." 

They walked out of the room and shut the door.  "That's a good trick,"

Janie said as they walked down the hall. 

"Yeah, well."  She watched a lock of Derek's brown hair fall in front of

one of his eyes.  "Look, Janie, there's something I wanted to talk to 

you about." 

"Yeah?  What?"  They walked into the kitchen.  Janie started making

coffee.  "Want a cup?" 

"Sure."  He leaned on the counter and watched her make the drink.  "I

want you to tell me about your mom." 

"What about her?"  Janie tried to make her voice sound annoyed. 

"Why she's never here.  It's been almost a year since I've seen her,

Janie.  I'd be stupid not to think something's up." 

"Well, there is.  She's embarrassed.  She's avoiding you, that's all." 

"She never picks up the phone when I call Evan.  She's never here when I

stop in for like two minutes to pick him up for something.  She's not 

at any school plays or teacher's meetings, though sometimes you are.  I 

never even see any of her stuff lying around.  Now tell me, Janie, 

where is your mother?" 

Janie pressed her fingers against her temples, trying not to remember. 

But it did no good. 

'Mom?  I'm ho-ome.'  Janie put her purse down.  Perhaps her mother was

at yet another therapy session.  But then what had she done with Evan?  

Perhaps she had left him at a day-care center.  Good.  She still 

worried about leaving Evan with her after the incident three years ago. 

'Mom?' 

Janie sighed and decided to go wash the stage makeup from her face.

Being Emily in Our Town was harder than she had expected.  It seemed 

like she was at practice constantly. 

She entered the bathroom and switched on the light.  The first thing she

saw was a sink full of tan-colored vomit, the next was her mother's 

pale, crumpled figure all over the floor, three empty, open bottles of 

over-the-counter sleeping pills on the toilet seat. 

She had told no one what really happened.  Janie buried her in the back

garden, underneath some tulips and daffodils.  She told Evan that his 

mother had left them forever.  Then she'd canceled all of her mother's 

credit cards, learned her mother's signature, and withdrew everything 

from her mother's bank account.  Luckily her mother hadn't been able to 

get another teaching job since Evan was born, so she didn't have to 

worry about that.  She got a job at a bookstore every Sunday, Monday, 

Wednesday and Thursday, and Evan went with her and did his homework or 

played his Game Boy in a back room. 

It had been hard.  She had lied so many times it was hard to keep it all

straight.  But she had done it.  She had saved Evan and herself from 

going into foster homes. 

"Well?  Don't lie to me, not this time."  His eyes locked with hers and

she didn't dare look away. 

She swallowed, tried one last time.  "Just what I told you." 

"Dammit, Janie, tell me.  I've never been this close to hitting a girl

in my life."  His hand was, indeed raised and in the slapping position 

and Janie flinched involuntarily.  "He's my son, and I have a right to 

know where his mother is." 

"Right here!" she yelled, not caring if she woke Evan or not.  "I've

been his mother all his life, not her, I hate her, oh gosh, I hate her 

so much, and I've raised him with very little help from you, so don't 

go giving me all this crap about your being his father.  You never 

changed his diapers, or fell down the stairs running to get the video 

camera when he took his first step, or took him to the zoo, or 

anything.  It's a mere accident of genetics that you made him come into 

this world." 

"That's not fair and you know it.  I was in college when all that

happened, trying to make something of myself so I'd be able to pay 

child support.  But that's not the issue.  Stop stalling and tell me 

where the heck she is.  Did she leave?" 

She looked at the floor until Derek grabbed her bare shoulders and shook

her.  "Come on, don't stand there and think up lies, I want the truth." 

The tears spilled over before she could stop them.  "She's dead," she

spat out desperately.  "She killed herself with three big bottles of 

Nyquil.  I found her and buried her, back there, and I've been lying my 

butt off ever since making this work and I swear I'll kill you if you 

even say the phrase 'foster care', I really will."  A sob escaped and 

she covered her mouth.  "I won't go, and I won't let him go live with 

you either, and let some nanny take care of him all day while you work. 

 I've kept us together for ten months- no, seven years, and I'll kill 

you if you ruin it now!" 

Derek's face registered shock.  "Oh, my gosh.  Janie, I- I had no idea,"

he said softly 

She couldn't stop crying.  Great, hiccuping sobs, the first cry she had

allowed herself to have in years, came from her mouth. 

"Janie," he whispered, and the next thing she knew was the softness of

his T-shirt against her face.  His arms went almost clumsily around 

her, and he stroked her like she was a little girl.  "I'm sorry," he 

said "I should've known.  I should've been there for you guys." 

Janie was relieved to get it all out in the open, that she would be able

to stop the lies.  But she knew deep inside that tomorrow everything 

would change, probably for the worse. 

Janie woke the next morning with a sense of dread.  Derek knew

everything.  He had the right to take Evan and have her put in foster 

care until her eighteenth birthday. 

She got up, showered and dressed quickly in a blue spaghetti strap shirt

and an old pair of jeans.  She didn't particularly like spaghetti strap 

shirts, but they didn't cost much and they were comfortable. 

When she went downstairs, Derek was in the kitchen on the phone. He

waved to her.  Evan was watching cartoons over a bowl of Crunchy 

Cornies. 

Derek put down the phone.  "Hey," he said.  His eyes traveled over her

wet hair making beads of water drop onto her shoulders for a moment.  

"I just got off the phone with a moving company." 

"What?" Janie asked.  It was happening way too fast. 

"There are two spare rooms in my house.  One's Evan's whenever he stays

over, and you can have the other one." 

"Me?" 

"Yes, you.  You didn't think I was going to let you stay here, did you?

You'd burn the place down without Evan to keep you straight.  And any 

foster family that got you'd resort to justifiable homicide within a 

week.  Really, I have no choice." 

"You're in a good mood." She stood and went to the coffeemaker. 

"Why not?  I've wanted Evan to come live with me for years.  You sure do

inhale that stuff." 

"I don't see color until I have a cup.  But- you're just going to take

us?  Just like that?" 

"He's my son, Janie.  I have a right to.  You don't have to come, if you

don't want to, but I couldn't think of anyone better to sit with him." 

She nodded. 

"So anyway, the moving truck's coming at three-" 

"Three?" 

"Three.  We'll be ready before then though.  As for the living room

furniture, and the pots and pans and stuff, we could put it in storage 

or sell it."  Some pieces of bread popped out of the toaster, and Derek 

grabbed them and buttered them. 

"Sell it." 

"Good girl.  I'll call one of those second-hand places and have the

money to you as soon as possible." 

"To me?" She poured herself some coffee. 

"Sure." 

"Oh.  Okay."  She tucked her hair behind her ears. 

"I just had your records transferred to Roland High, by the way.  I

didn't know you were a senior already." 

She sighed.  He had known she would come with him.