It had been a nice day, and now it was time for a nice evening. Since getting back to the home, Carol, Boris, Burt, Larry and Polly had played a few hands of poker and a few other card games, watched a movie and had dinner, and now it was time for a long sleep. As Boris buttoned up his pajama shirt, he felt like he'd really made a difference today. Just then, someone knocked on his door.

"Come in," Boris said as Whittle entered.

"Hey," she said, "Um...you have a visitor."

"A visitor? It's almost 8 at night," Boris said, "Who is it?"

"It's a girl," Whittle said, and Boris smiled.

"It's Chrissy, she probably came to talk about today. Alright, I'll be right out," Boris said. He and Whittle exited the room and walked down the hall. When they reached the main visiting room, Boris saw it wasn't Chrissy, it was another girl. A woman, actually, in an advanced wheelchair. Every cell in Boris' body went cold, and he was frozen where he stood. After Whittle nudged him, he nodded and approached the table, seating himself across from her.

"Uh...hi," Boris said, clearing his throat, "It's uh...it's funny seeing you here."

"Hi dad," she replied.

Boris rubbed the back of his neck, clearly nervous, as he avoided eye contact with her.

"So..." he said, "...how have you been Ellen?"

"I'm okay," she said, "Work's been tiring, but you know..."

"I know," he said, "I mean...I...I don't know, I don't know because I don't work your job, but I assume...I mean, I'm not saying you're not good at it, I know you're good at it, I just-"

"Dad, stop it," Ellen said, slightly blushing, "Please, you're embarrassing yourself."

"What...uh...what brings you here?" Boris asked, and she coughed and bit her bottom lip before finally speaking.

"Um...I'm going in for surgery," Ellen said, "In a few weeks, and I just...I wanted to talk to you first about it. These specialists I've been working with, they're really great, and they think they can give me new legs, and I can get out of this chair finally."

"You don't have to get out of the chair to be worth-"

"I know, jesus, everyone says that. I know I don't. I've accomplished everything I've set out to do despite being in this chair, but this isn't about whether I can or not. It's about what I want. I want to get out of it. It's just time to move onto a new part of my life. I'm just here because...I don't know, I'm scared, I guess."

"Why didn't you go to your mom?" Boris asked, and Ellen scoffed.

"God, yeah, that would've gone over well," she replied, "You know how she is. She turned my disability into her cause to champion. Suddenly she was the distraught but proud and strong woman who loved her daughter even though she had become 'damaged'. No. I'm not...no."

"Yeah, I guess that was kind of a dumb question," Boris asked.

"I'm scared," Ellen said, "It's simultaneously what I want and not want, like, does that make sense?"

"It does, sure."

"I want this, I do, and I'm only scared I think because it's going to be different than what I've grown accustomed to, you know? Change. Change is terrifying," Ellen said, "I just...I guess I wanted to talk to you about it, see how you feel."

"It's not up to me to feel anything about it. You know I'll agree with anything you decide to do. I support whatever decision you make, Ellen," Boris said, "I just wish it wasn't my fault you were in this situation in the first place. I wish I'd never put you in that thing."

"Dad-"

"Don't tell me I didn't," Boris said, sniffling, wiping his nose on his sleeve, "I...I try and find ways to forgive myself every single day, but I can't. I mangled my child. I was not a good person and it's my fault you were hurt. But...but it doesn't make me any less proud of everything you've achieved. I hope you know that. I love you, I love you so much."

Ellen smiled, trying not to cry as she cleared her throat and tossed her hair.

"I know dad, I love you too," she said softly, "Just tell me I'm going to be okay. I know I'm going to be okay, I just need to hear that I'm going to be okay from a parent for some bullshit validation thing. I just need to hear you say it."

"Ellen, you are going to be okay. It's going to go great and you're going to be happy and everything will be wonderful," Boris said, "Trust me."

A pause enveloped them, and after a few moments, Boris looked down at the table, his hands cupped in front of him.

"So...have you spoken to Lorraine lately?" he asked, and Ellen shrugged.

"Kind of. Not so much 'spoken' as much as 'was spoken TO'. You know how it is with her. She makes everything about her. I told her about an award I received for my work and she instantly made it about her, about how she raised me so well disciplined, so hard working, bragging to her friends. I'm nothing but a 'my child is better than your child' chip between her and her snooty friends."

"She didn't use to be that way..."

"Even growing up, mom was weird about my achievements, you know that. She turned every fundraising thing into something about her. Look at what SHE brought, look at all the work SHE did. Always offered to host things because she could show off how good she was at it, and just...I don't want to be cruel because you obviously saw something in her that made you love her, but she-"

"She was different when we were young," Boris said, "She really was..."

"So what happened?" Ellen asked, and Boris shrugged.

"A lot of things," he said, "Anyway, tell me about your new legs."

"Well, they're 3D printed and combined with robotics, it's complicated, but they're cool. I'm...I'm really excited, honestly..." Ellen said, and then trailed off, looking out the window at the yard where she saw an orderly helping an old man get off a bench, "Dad, if you want to-"

"No."

"You don't have to stay here," Ellen said.

"Yes, I do."

"Dad-"

"Ellen, just don't. Don't. I'm happy for you. I'm happy you're happy. I'm proud of you, I want you to know that. I've always been proud of you. You're always going to be a better human than I ever was. Considering what you've gone through, you deserve to be, and-"

"Dad?...does it ever stop?"

"...what?"

"Hurting, on the inside?"

"...it hasn't yet."

"I don't want to be this sad for the rest of my life. There's little peaks and valleys, moments of grand joy and bliss, mostly overshadowed by recurring terribleness, no matter how tough I try to see the positivity, but all around me is pain in one way or another. Sometimes I get sad and I don't even know why, and I didn't even do anything to be sad!"

"You inherited this sadness, that's what depression is. It's as dangerous as anything else. Passed down from one person to another. Between your mother and I, you got it doubly bad. It's not fair, I agree with you, but it's what you were given. Other children inherit talent. You inherited sadness."

"I don't want to be sad my whole life."

"Neither do I."

"...I guess it's getting late," Ellen said, checking her watch, "...dad, just...please stop blaming yourself for me. I'm here. I'm okay. Or, at least, I'm trying to be okay. I'll keep you updated before my surgery, okay?"

Boris stood up and walked to her chair, kneeling down and touching her face.

"You're just as beautiful today as you were when we brought you home," he said, smiling, making her blush, before he kissed her forehead, "I love you Ellen."

"I love you, dad," she said, hugging him. After the hug broke, she turned and started to wheel herself out. As Boris watched her leave, Whittle approached him again.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

"I need to make a phone call," Boris said.

Whittle walked him to the phone and left him there while he dialed a number. After about three rings, someone finally answered.

"Hello?" a woman asked, sounding groggy.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Boris asked.

"Boris? Jesus, is that how you greet everyone you call?" Lorraine asked, "I was about to fall asleep you know."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Boris asked again, sounding angrier this time, "Ellen just came to see me, and she still sounds so tired of your shit. What did you do this time?"

"I don't know, Boris, I haven't spoken to her in weeks," Lorraine said, "But you know, not everything can be blamed on me, you know that right?"

"Everything can be blamed on you when you're responsible for it!" Boris said, growing angrier with each second he was on the line with her, "You try to say you're so much better than the rest of us, playing the victim! 'Oh, my daughter doesn't call me...' but there's no context to WHY. If people knew WHY, perhaps they wouldn't feel so fucking bad for you. You're such a goddamned liar, Lorraine."

"I don't have to take this," Lorraine said, "I..."

A pause, as Boris heard some shuffling on the other end of the line, and he finally spoke again.

"Lorraine?"

"I'm so tired of this, Boris," she said, actually sounding sincere, "I'm so tired of being angry all the time. It's exhausting. I'm tired of this facade...I'm just...I'm so fucking tired."

"...yeah," Boris said, scratching the back of his head as he actually felt bad for her, "...yeah, me too."

"Do you remember what it's like being in school?" Burt asked Polly as they were getting on the bus for their trip. Polly shrugged as Carol and Boris followed them on.

"I have memories of parts of school, but nothing I like remembering, mostly embarrassing things," Polly said, "It's kind of unfair. You live a full life, you have great accomplishments, child rearing, marriage, whatever, and then the only things you remember are the bad things. The embarrassments and failings are what stick with you."

"You know what sucks even worse?" Boris asked, "Not being able to sit down. Move it, Polly."

Polly took her seat with Burt as Boris and Carol continued by them and headed to the back of the bus, Larry right behind them, to sit down for the trip to the local elementary school. Boris sighed as he laid his head on Carols' shoulder and shut his eyes.

"I don't see why I gotta go, just because everyone else is," Boris said, "It's not like I've got anyone to see there."

"You don't have grandkids?" Larry asked, and Boris furrowed his brow and ignored him.

"I'm excited," Carol said, shrugging, "It's nice to get out of the home once in a while. I just hope this isn't a cover for driving us to the middle of nowhere and leaving us there. They do that you know."

"They do not," Burt said, looking over his seat at them.

"Sure they do," Boris replied, eyes still shut, "If you're too much of a hassle, they drive you to the middle of nowhere and leave you there. You think they get paid enough to take care of people? Come on. This a conspiracy of massive proportions that goes all the way to the top, Burt."

"It's true, it happened to Delores," Carol said.

The bus started moving as everyone settled in for the ride. Carol looked at Boris as he sat upright and stretched best he could, yawning. He straightened his cap and blinked a few times before looking out the back window.

"I've got a granddaughter I can't wait to see there," Larry said, "Family comes to visit once a week anyway, but it's always nice having extra time to see her."

"I'm going to see my granddaughter too," Burt said, "She's the cutest thing. Smart as a whip too."

Carol and Boris didn't say a thing as the bus drove. They just sat, each looking out a separate window. When the bus finally rolled up to the front of the school about 25 minutes later, Boris had dozed off yet again. The sharp stop when the brakes hit jarred him awake, and he groggily opened his eyes to see an elementary school out his window, with tons of kids walking inside. He then noticed one girl struggling with locking her bike up.

"Chrissy?" he mumbled, but before he could be sure, she had finished and had gone running off into the school, not wanting to be late. As the seniors started to pile off the bus, Boris passed Whittle by the doors on the way out and touched her arm.

"Hey," he said, "Uh, what do you do if you don't have anyone to visit?" he asked.

"You have nobody?"

"I have no grandchildren, no," Boris said softly, "My daughter....was never able to have children."

"Well, just take it easy I guess. I won't be around to chat, I'm going to have to helping everyone else, helping other nurses, so, just try and stay out of trouble," Whittle said.

"Yeah, like that'll happen," Boris said, making her smirk as she left him to go assist someone with a wheelchair. Boris sighed, dug his hands into his pants pockets and started walking off towards the front of the school when he heard Carol coming up from behind him.

"So," she asked, pulling her purse up on her shoulder, "Want to harass some kids by insisting we're their grandparents and crying, asking why they never come to visit?"

Boris smirked, "Fun as that may be, I think I'll spend the day sitting on a bench and reading a book."

"You brought a book to a school?" Carol asked, scoffing, "You nerd."

"I know, books have no place in school, but I needed something to do," Boris said, "Don't you have someone to visit?"

"None of my family lives close by," Carol said as they entered the main school hall, kids running by them each way to get to their classroom, "They moved away a few years ago, so they never come see me now. They call every now and then, usually just my sister, but that's neither here nor there."

"That's screwed up," Boris said as they sat on a bench in the school hall and he pulled his book out from his coat pocket, "You give everything to a family and they just leave you somewhere, as if you never did anything for them."

"Well, the point of having a family isn't hoping they'll take care of you later on. You don't have children in hopes to gain something in return, Boris. You do it because you want to, because you want to raise a child and teach them right and wrong and give them a good life, possibly a better life than you were ever given."

"I know why people have children," Boris said grimly, looking into his book, now trying to ignore her.

"...sorry," Carol said quietly, standing up, "I'll just...I'm just going to go to the cafeteria. Maybe they have snack machines."

With Carol gone, Boris could finally enjoy his solitude. The students were in classrooms and everything was fine now. He relaxed, leaned back against the wall and crossed his legs, happily lost in his book. Until a door down the hall opened and he saw a teacher take a student out of the classroom and stand with them in the hall, talking to them quietly. Scolding them, perhaps? The student was crying. Actually, the student was...

"Chrissy?" Boris asked, noticing her now. It was in fact Chrissy, and it had been her in the front having trouble with her bike lock. He waited until the teacher was done, and left Chrissy in the hall by herself until he saw Chrissy standing there, sniffling and wiping her nose. Boris whistled, and got her attention. She spun around, spotting him and cautiously approaching him.

"Boris?" she asked.

"Hey," he replied, "What's going on?"

"Oh..." Chrissy said as Boris patted the spot next to him on the bench and she sat down there, "I...there's this girl in class and she sits behind me, and she put gum in my hair. I got in trouble for yelling at her and 'causing a scene'."

"What?" Boris asked, "That's ridiculous. You stand up for yourself and you're labeled as the problem?"

"Hey," Carol said, "I come bearing frozen yogurt."

"The cafeteria had frozen yogurt?" Boris asked, "Jeez, school has changed a lot since I was there."

"No, idiot, I went down the street," she said and handed him a cup, which he took and then after a second gave to Chrissy, who happily took it. Carol took her seat on the other side of Chrissy and started eating, asking, "So what's going on here?"

"This is Chrissy, she got in trouble for yelling at a girl for putting gum in her hair," Boris said.

"She does this sort of stuff to me all the time!" Chrissy said, clearly and understandably annoyed, "And she never gets in trouble because her parents are like, the ones who host all the bake sales and donate money to the school and stuff. It's so unfair. She's untouchable."

"She's like a tiny mob boss," Carol said, "But there has to be something you can do to counteract this. I mean, she should be being punished for this behavior. She's doing wrong. That has to count for something, right?"

"Power means you can't get held accountable," Boris said, "Look at government."

"Why are people so mean to one another? It's not that hard to be nice. I do it. It isn't tough," Chrissy asked, spooning more frozen yogurt into her mouth.

"Because...people..." Boris started.

"Suck," Carol finished for him, surprising him, "I don't want to be that negative, but sweetheart, people are so unreliable, and they're cruel and they're selfish but that doesn't mean you should give up on them completely. Sometimes certain people can surprise you, like our friend Boris here," she said, putting her hand on his knee and smiling, "On the outside, he's a curmudgeon, a crank, an absolute bummer-"

"Okay, this might be helping her, but it's hurting me," Boris interjected, making Chrissy laugh.

"But," Carol continued, "He's really decent if you get to know him and he likes you. Sadly, you're not at the age where you no longer have to rely on relationships and friendships to get you through life. When you're this old, being lonely can be a virtue. You can want it, and it won't be weird because it's almost what's expected of you. 'Oh, they're old, they want to be alone'. But a kid wanting to be alone? Somehow that's strange and unheard of. So this girl's a problem, but it doesn't mean everyone will be. Sure a good majority of them will be, but not all of them, and those are the ones you want to work on being friends with."

"Wow," Boris said, "That was lovely."

"But how do you know which ones are worth it?" Chrissy asked.

"Well, that's the problem, you won't," Boris said, "But it doesn't mean it's not worth trying to figure out anyway. And this is coming from a cranky bummer curmudgeon, so you know it's gotta be true. Now if I were you, I'd keep making a big deal out of things that bother you, because being quiet is only being complicit in their behavior. If nobody ever calls them out, then their behavior becomes acceptable, because they feel they'll never be told it isn't. Even if she's never punished for it, at least there's one person telling them that hey, this isn't the right way to be a person, knock it off."

"Never stop defending yourself," Carol said, and Chrissy nodded, finishing the frozen yogurt and sucking on the spoon, "You have to defend yourself, sweetheart, because more often than not, you're the only one who will."

"But you just said that some people-"

"I realize it sounds contradictory, but while those people will care and want to help, in the end, you really do need to defend yourself," Boris said, "Trust me, the people you really do love may not be able to stay forever."

Carol glanced at him, noting the hint of sadness in his voice, and she felt so bad. Just then, the teacher came out and looked for Chrissy. When she spotted her, she waved her hand and Chrissy stood up and looked at Boris and Carol.

"Thanks guys," Chrissy said, "...you guys are my friends, right?"

"Of course we are," Carol said.

"For sure," Boris added, the both of them smiling. Chrissy hugged them both, then headed on back to her classroom. Carol looked at Boris who returned to reading his book while she ate the rest of her frozen yogurt and looked around the hall they were seated in.

"God, look at all the art these kids put up," Carol said, "Kids are so full of emotions and creativity, and we just crush it out of them more and more as they get older until they're nothing but jaded, cynical copies of adults...Boris?"

"Hmmm?"

"...if you ever want to talk about your family, I'm here."

"I know."

Carol looked at her shoes and didn't know what else to say, until he put his arm around her and pulled her close, making her smile. It was good to have friends, especially at their age. By the time afternoon rolled around, and everyone was making their way back towards the bus, Boris was ready to go home and take a long nap. As they stood in front of the bus, waiting to get on, all the school kids passing them by, Boris couldn't help but feel like he'd done something good today.

"You want to play a game when we get back?" Carol asked, "We could play cards."

"Poker?"

"I got some money I could afford to lose," Carol said.

Just then, a girl ran past them, sobbing and got into a car parked near the bus. Boris and Carol glanced at one another before shrugging, and then they heard the sound of a bike being taken off the rack behind them. They turned to find Chrissy getting her bike chain off and climbing on.

"What was that all about?" Boris asked.

"I told her she could make my hair ugly, but her personality is even uglier," Chrissy said, smiling as she started to peddle.

"Our little girl's all grown up," Boris said, hugging Carol and she looked at him.

"The kid's gonna be alright," she added.

                                                                                             ***

It had been a nice day, and now it was time for a nice evening. Since getting back to the home, Carol, Boris, Burt, Larry and Polly had played a few hands of poker and a few other card games, watched a movie and had dinner, and now it was time for a long sleep. As Boris buttoned up his pajama shirt, he felt like he'd really made a difference today. Just then, someone knocked on his door.

"Come in," Boris said as Whittle entered.

"Hey," she said, "Um...you have a visitor."

"A visitor? It's almost 8 at night," Boris said, "Who is it?"

"It's a girl," Whittle said, and Boris smiled.

"It's Chrissy, she probably came to talk about today. Alright, I'll be right out," Boris said. He and Whittle exited the room and walked down the hall. When they reached the main visiting room, Boris saw it wasn't Chrissy, it was another girl. A woman, actually, in an advanced wheelchair. Every cell in Boris' body went cold, and he was frozen where he stood. After Whittle nudged him, he nodded and approached the table, seating himself across from her.

"Uh...hi," Boris said, clearing his throat, "It's uh...it's funny seeing you here."

"Hi dad," she replied.

Carol was sitting by herself in the lunch room, slowly sipping her apple juice, her eyes staring directly down at the table and nowhere else. If anyone were to look at her for even more than half a second, they'd find it very easy to notice she was lost in deep thought about something, but what? So she sat and drank and thought. Boris sat down with her, his lunch tray filled with food. He sighed and picked up his fork, slowly poking at the food in front of him.

"At least they feed us well," Boris said, "I've heard horror stories about other nursing homes. It's awful, some of the shit those poor people are forced to eat."

"I remember the slop they tried to feed us in elementary school," Carol said, half smiling, "My parents could afford to send me to school everyday with a lunch, we were better off than other families, but some of my friends, the crap the school provided to them, oh, it was vile, Boris. Absolutely vile."

"I can't believe, now that I'm as old as I am, that I cared so much about where to eat as a young person. That it had to be hip, have atmosphere, all that bullshit. It's food. It's something that's going to end up in my toilet. Why the fuck should I care as long as it tastes halfway decent? It's not like I'm there to make friends or some shit! I'm there to stuff my face."

"That's the spirit!" Carol said, laughing, touching his arm.

As Boris started eating, Carol sighed and looked around at everyone in the lunchroom, and then back at Boris, realizing she was very lucky to have him as a friend. Sure, he was grumpy and kind of a snob, but he was honest, he was kind to her, he respected her. Carol finished her juice and looked back down at the table.

"...did you read the paper?" she asked.

"Nah, haven't gotten to it yet. Had to do some physical fitness stuff this morning, keep me limber, all that crap," Boris said, "Anything interesting?"

"Just the usual. You know, government screwing its own citizens for the sake of its own survival, big CGI blockbusters outdoing one another at the box office dumbing down the masses while well made thought provoking film is left to rot, same ol' same ol'."

"Sounds riveting," Boris said, shoving salad into his mouth.

"...there was this story of this high school girl, a sophomore; great student, straight a's, extracurricular activities out the wazoo, all that jazz. She got hooked on pain medication because of a lacrosse injury she got playing for the school team, and she overdosed on them."

"Jesus," Boris said, swallowing and picking up his drink.

"...I knew her," Carol said softly.

"Yeah? Relative? Kid of a friend?"

"No, she just came here a few times, doing after school stuff for college applications," Carol said, "She'd come in, read to me a little, we'd talk about school, that sort of stuff."

"That stinks Carol, I'm sorry," Boris said, patting her back, "It hurts losing people you know especially this late in the game when it gets so much harder to make new friends."

"I killed her," Carol said coldly, and Boris looked at her as Carol lifted her gaze from the table and their eyes locked.

"W...what?" he asked.

"They were my pills. I sold them to her," Carol said, "I killed her."

                                                                                             ***

"God, I don't know how you do it," Carol said, leafing through Lexa's essays as the two sat at Carols desk in her room, "I never did this well in school, I didn't have the energy, and I tried pretty damn hard. You're so determined. It's nice to see."

"Well," Lexa said, pushing hair behind her ear and blushing, "I get so little sleep, I stay up just trying to make sure my schoolwork is just perfect. They push us so hard, you know? It's not enough to get up at 6 in the morning, but then they give you so much work you have to stay up until about 3, so you get 3 hours, and that's if you don't have insomnia, which thankfully I don't, but still. I know some girls who drink coffee nonstop and stay up all night every week and sleep all through the weekend."

"That's disgusting," Carol said, shaking her head, "Something about the school system has to change."

"It'll all be worth it when I get into college," Lexa said, "I'm so excited."

"I used to be like that," Carol said, laughing, "God. I was so excited for every single upcoming thing in my life, always looking forward to the next adventure. Could never enjoy what was in the moment because I was so preoccupied with what came after."

The girls laughed, and Lexa started packing up. As she stood up, she stumbled a bit and hissed in pain, grabbing at her ankle as she sat on the bed. Carol looked at her, confused.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked.

"I hurt my ankle during my last lacrosse game," Lexa said, "It's still stinging, and I don't have the time to take off school to go to the doctors and get it really looked at, and plus I need the physical credit to maintain my GPA."

"You don't have anything to deal with the pain?" Carol asked, and Lexa shook her head, so Carol opened her desk drawer and pulled out a pill calendar and opened it, pulling three light blue pills out and putting them in Lexas hand, shutting it around them and smiling.

"What...what is this?" Lexa asked.

"It'll help with the pain," Carol said.

"I can't just take something, let me at least pay you," Lexa said.

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"No, I...I'd feel guilty otherwise," Lexa said, opening her purse.

"Well, if you insist," Carol said, the two of them laughing.

                                                                                             ***

"Come again?" Boris asked as Carol buried her face in her hands, weaving her fingers through her dyed brown hair.

"I killed her," she whispered, "They came from me. The pills she died on came from me. I'm responsible."

"Jesus christ," Boris said, setting his fork down, wiping his mouth and turning to face her, lowering his voice now, "What...what are you going to do? I mean, are you going to tell anyone, or-"

"Are you CRAZY!?" Carol hissed, "That is not an option, Boris. I could get in major trouble if I came forward. There's no paper trail, no evidence linking me to her, so nobody will ever know anything. For all a coroner could know, she could've gotten those pills from a friends grandparents or a medicine cabinet somewhere or who knows."

"Carol, you killed a kid," Boris whispered, "You have to take responsibility for that!"

"I didn't mean to!" Carol said, "God knows, I never...she was so talented, she had such a bright future...she-"

"You don't know that," Boris said.

"...wh...what?"

"You don't know she had a bright future. Nobody is guaranteed a bright future, good student or not. Look at all the talented people who wind up in obscurity. No, you have the idea she had a bright future, but for all you know, she might've wound up somewhere else, somewhere worse. She might've ended up an alcoholic, or hooked on some other drug, or pregnant and abandoned."

"Boris, I knew the girl, she was smart, she was dedicated, she-"

"Because she was young, but let's look at her in 15 years, when she's out of college...look at the state the world is in for young people, alright? No jobs for anyone even with high end college degrees, they're all renting, if they can afford that, or living at home still, so many don't even drive. You don't know where she would've ended up once the school life was over, okay?"

Boris had a point, Carol realized; so many "smart and bright" students were left to rot once they burned out or were found not to be financially dependable to their parents. Nowadays to get a retail job as a cashier you needed 15 years experience even if you were only 23. Maybe Carol had saved this girl in some twisted way from having learned life is unjust and cruel. Maybe Lexa had lived the best part of her life already, and things were about to get very, very bad. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

                                                                                         ***

Carol was fast asleep, it was almost 3 in the morning. She slowly woke, tasting something awful in her mouth, realizing she needed some water. Carol got up and headed to the bathroom in her room and turned on the faucet, grabbed a paper cup and filled it, drinking it when she heard a tapping coming from somewhere. As she turned to find it, she noticed Lexa was standing outside her bedroom window. Carol threw the cup away and walked to the window, unlatching it.

"Lexa?" she asked groggily, "What're you doing here?"

"I'm in so much pain," Lexa said, "I could barely drive here, the pressure on my ankle on the gas pedal, it was so painful. I need more medicine."

"I don't have any," Carol said, "I'm waiting to get it refilled. I only have two and those are for my own hip pain."

"Carol, please, please, I hurt so much," Lexa said, near tears, "You don't...I am under so much pressure to play in this weekends upcoming game and I need to make sure I can do it. After that I will deal with it and go to a doctor and actually get something done about this, but I hurt so much."

"....Lexa, I'm sorry, I-"

"I'll give you 1500 dollars for the two of them."

"...what?"

"1500."

"Where did you even-"

"I have two part time jobs, okay," Lexa said, "I've been saving for months, please. Carol, I'm so sorry to have to put you in this position, but I am in so much pain, you should know what that's like to live with. Seriously. I can't even sleep anymore because it hurts all night long. I just want to not hurt for like, another two days, and then it's spring break and I'll have time off to see a doctor and-"

"....alright, okay, sure," Carol said, walking to her desk and getting the last two pain pills she had. She walked back to the window and looked at Lexa, "Promise me you will see someone about your ankle after this, okay?"

"I do, I promise, I don't want to be doing this, especially to you."

Carol smiled and handed her the two pills, "You're a good kid, Lexa. I hope this helps."

And as Lexa turned and headed back to her car in the darkness, Carol had a feeling that would be the last time she'd ever see her.

                                                                                      ***

"Wait wait wait," Boris said, "Two pills?"

"....yeah, so?"

"You can't overdose on two pills, I'm sorry, I don't care how strong they are."

"But....but why-"

"From the way you've described this girl, it seems like she was overworked and hyperfocused, not a good combination, so maybe she killed herself."

"It said she overdosed," Carol said.

"That could've been on anything," Boris said, "But I'm telling you, two pills ain't gonna do shit, Carol, trust me, as a former drug addict."

Just then Burt came by holding a stack of papers.

"Mail's here," he said, handing Boris a few magazines and a newspaper, and then Carol a single envelope before heading on his way.

"Goddammit, how did I get on the fucking pottery barn mailing list?!" Boris shouted, standing up, "Who did this!? Alice?! Was this you?!"

"Bite me, windbag!" Alice shouted from across the room.

"If you had any teeth left, you old hag, I'd kick them in!" Boris shouted, as Alice laughed.

"Boris..." Carol said, touching his arm as he sat back down, "Boris...it's from her."

"Hmmm?"

Boris glanced at the envelope Carol was holding, and it was indeed from a Lexa Platter. Carol and Boris exchanged nervous glances, and Carol took Boris's plastic knife, opening the envelope and pulling out a letter, which she slowly unfolded and started to read aloud.

"Dear Carol, I know letter writing is so out of date, but I wasn't sure you had an email, so. I wanted to thank you for caring about me. You cared about how well I did in school because you liked me, not because it made you look good, unlike my parents, and you helped me deal with my injury without asking a lot of questions. I want you to know how much I valued knowing you, and I wish I could've made it to be your age, but things are so tough right now, life is only going to get harder, busier, and I know I won't be able to handle it. I knew you would read about me in the paper, and I didn't want you to think you'd be responsible, so I figured I'd tell you it's not your fault. I actually never even took the last pills you gave me, because when I got home, my father found out about my boyfriend. He'd been in my room while I was gone, looking for me, and it turned into an enormous fight. He called me a slut, called me a disappointment, after everything I've done for them. I realize now that you simply can't live to make other people happy, but you also can't live if those are the only people you care about making happy. Carol...you've lived such a full life, I wanted that, but it isn't for me. Thank you for caring when nobody else would. I love you. Lexa."

"See," Boris said, smiling, "I told you it wasn't your fault."

"God...the way we treat our young people needs to change, Boris, this is sick," Carol said, near tears as Boris rubbed her back.

"Hey, you did something good for her, you cared. That's a start," he said, the two of them smiling at one another as Boris continued to flip through his mail, suddenly standing up again and shouting, "God dammit, Alice! Stop signing me up for junk magazines! I don't even OWN a horse!"

Carol looked back at the letter and smiled widely, still nearly crying, wishing she could've done more, but proud of what little she had been able to do.

                                                                                        ***

*knock knock!*

Carol opened the door to her room to find a young brunette woman standing there.

"Yes?" Carol asked.

"Hi, my name's Lexa, I'm with Martins High School, I'm here to read to you," she said, smiling.

"Sweetheart, I know how to read."

"Well, congratulations, we're all proud of you, but I'm still going to do it," Lexa said, the two of them starting to laugh.

"God," Carol said, "You look so much like myself when I was young...you want to come in?"

"So I'm going to look this good when I'm your age?" Lexa asked as she entered and Carol started to shut the door.

"Girl, you know we're a catch!" she replied.

"I remember being in the girlscouts," Whittle said as she walked Chrissy down the hall.

"Did you have to do this sort of thing?" Chrissy asked, and Whittle smiled, nodding.

"Oh yeah, helping the elderly was a big time effort. Granted, we didn't have to go to nursing homes, they considered that 'too dark' for kids our age, but anytime we saw an elderly person in need of any sort of help, we were supposed to help them," Whittle said.

"What is this guy like?" Chrissy asked, sounding nervous.

"Sweetheart, don't worry, I know him, he's an old man, you'll be just fine."

As Whittle opened the door to Boris's room, they saw him sitting on the bed, holding a lighter, casually setting his tie on fire. Nobody said a word, and finally Whittle just sighed, pushed the girlscout inside and shut the door as she left. The girlscout looked at Boris, who put the lighter down and groaned as he stood up.

"Are you here to sell me cookies? Because I can't eat them, and if you're selling magazines, I probably won't live long enough to make use of a subscription service," Boris said as he walked across the room and grabbed a chair, dragging it back to the bed.

"I'm not...I'm just...I'm here to help you so I can earn a badge," she said, "I'm Chrissy."

"Chrissy, I'd tell you it's nice to meet you, but it's not really nice to meet anyone anymore," Boris said as he walked away from the chair and into his closet, where he rooted around for something, "You say you need to help me with anything I ask?"

"Yes sir."

"Then help me hang myself," Boris said, as he pulled out a rope.

                                                                                             ***

Down the hall, in Carols room, she was being treated to the same thing. Carol had gotten her own girlscout, a young black girl named Missy. Carol was just sitting in the rocking chair by the window smoking while Missy sat on the end of the bed and asked her questions from a paper she had attached to a clipboard.

"Are you happy with your life?" she asked.

"At this age?" Carol asked, laughing, "It's not a bad life, but it's not where I wanted to end up. I always thought I'd be living on my own at this point, rich enough to take care of myself."

"Wasn't your generation the most wealthy?" Missy asked, "I mean, you guys were able to buy homes in your 20s. My sister is in her 20s and lives at home because she can't pay for that, and can barely afford her college courses, and she works 3 jobs."

"Yeah, we were the most financially successful," Carol said, grabbing a teapot from the dresser by the chair and pouring herself a cup, "But that doesn't mean we did the right things with it. For instance, instead of stocking money away for retirement or anything, I blew it all on frivolous things, put some into charity, and I'm not saying that's a lost cause, but it didn't help me stay out of this place."

"Charity's a good thing!" Missy said, smiling.

"Well sure it is," Carol said, laughing, "But when you reach this age, you start to wonder if you should've saved some of that money to take care of yourself. You think about all the mistakes you've made in your whole life, and what they cost you now."

"What did you used to do?" Missy asked.

"...you want to see something beautiful?" Carol asked, and Missy nodded. Carol lifted herself from her chair and headed to the closet, where she reached inside and pulled out a large cardboard box. She motioned for Missy to join her, and she did, kneeling beside Carol at the closet. Carol opened the box and started pulling things out.

"These are clothes," Missy said.

"Clothes I designed," Carol said, coughing, "I used to be a seamstress, but in my spare time, I made my own clothes for fun. I went to school to major in fashion."

"This is beautiful!" Missy said, grabbing a blouse and holding it up.

"Yeah, I like that one too," Carol said, smiling, "Do you want it?"

"Really?"

"Sure, why not, I've got a few and they're not doing anyone any good being in here," Carol said, "Take it, enjoy it."

Missy stood up and pulled her jacket off and pulled the blouse on over her girlscout shirt, and walked to the mirror, admiring it. She squealed and raced back to Carol, hugged her and helped her continuing to search through these clothes Carol had made. This was the first time in years Carol had talked about her work, and it was nice to have someone to share it with who would appreciate it.

                                                                                            ***

"Why would you want to die?" Chrissy asked, as Boris climbed onto the bed and started tying the rope around a banister.

"A whole lot of reasons, but today in particular? Just feels right."

"I...I don't think this is what I..."

"Look, you're supposed to help me, right?" Boris asked, finishing and climbing back down, "So then help me! You have no idea what it's like to be here, to be in this situation, to have wasted your entire goddamned life and know you have no time left to fix anything."

"There's always time to fix things," Chrissy said.

"Yeah, if you're 12."

"I don't want to-"

Boris sat down on the chair and buried his face in his hands, starting to breath heavily, trying not to cry. Chrissy sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him.

"I used to have a little girl like you," Boris said, not looking at her, "You look a lot like her. You're right, this is wrong. I can't force you to help me. I couldn't force her to do anything either. Trying to force her to participate in an extracurricular activity is why it happened. So no, I won't ask you to do something. Just go ahead and leave."

"Where is she now?"

"Not here, obviously," Boris said, wiping his eyes, "Every year I do this. Every year on this day, the day it happened, I pull this rope and this chair out and try and end everything, and it's only made harder today because you're here and you look like her. But it's wrong of me to put you in this situation, so just leave now and go get your badge and live the best life you can."

Chrissy touched the ends of her skirt and sighed.

"I don't even really want the badge, I don't really want to be doing this."

"...then why are you?"

"Because my parents are making me. I don't like doing group stuff, but they say I'm too 'antisocial' and that I need to have more friends my age."

Boris scoffed, "Who would want a friend? Honestly. More trouble than they're worth."

"I agree. Everyone is so mean," Chrissy said, "I wish I could be here, alone, not doing anything."

"Hah," Boris said, sitting on the bed beside her now, "Trust me, you don't want this."

A moment passed as Chrissy pulled at her braids.

"What was your daughter like?" she asked.

"A lot like you," Boris said, smiling, "She really didn't want to do group things. She was fine being alone. She was smart, probably too smart for her own age to be honest, and she didn't get along with a lot of kids because of it, but it didn't bother her. She was fine staying by herself and reading or playing alone, or doing things with her mother and I."

"She sounds cool."

Boris couldn't help it anymore, and started sobbing.

                                                                                               ***

"And here comes Missy Blake, down the runway in a beautiful sequined gown, complete with tiara and high heels, look at that stride, that poise!" Carol said, talking into an unplugged microphone she was holding as Missy walked from one end of the room to the other, laughing the whole time.

"Why didn't you ever try and sell these?" Missy asked.

"I did try a few times," Carol said, "But ultimately I did it for myself. It was something I wanted to prove to myself I could do, and besides, how unique are clothes if everyone can have them? People often asked me where I got my outfits, and I told them I made them and they were so crestfallen that they couldn't go to a superstore and buy them."

"How did you learn to sew?" Missy asked, "Because my grandma tried teaching me but I can't do it."

"Why not?" Carol asked, sitting back down on the bed as Missy stepped out of the high heels.

"Because I have bad hand eye coordination," she said, laughing, "It's okay though, I still like to draw and design stuff."

"Sometimes that's all it takes. You don't have to do it all, you can only do a part of it and get someone else to stitch the damn thing for you," Carol said, "Is that what you think you might want to go to school for eventually?"

"That would be great," Missy said, "Can I show you some of my designs? I have them in my backpack!"

"Of course you can!" Carol said, the two of them sitting on the bed as Missy dug through her backpack to drag out her designs to show.

                                                                                                ***

"Why do people kill themselves?" Chrissy asked, the two of them laying on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. Boris sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Because often they feel the alternative is more painful," he said, "I've lost everything. I deserve to be here. I deserve to die. Some people realize after an attempt that they didn't really want to die, and they can get the help they need to get better, but there's always those people for whom life really is not worth living. Once you've reached my age, been through what I've been through...it makes it kind of hard to want to keep going."

"My grandpa died a year ago," Chrissy said, making Boris sit up on his elbows, looking at her.

"...yeah? Were you two close?"

"Yeah. We were really close. I really miss him. After he died, my grandma moved in with us, and they sold their house, and now I can't go back there. I miss their house."

"It's incredible how attached to buildings we get. Your grandparents house is just as memorable as they themselves often are, because you spend so much good time there. I remember when my parents sold their house, and thinking how it's not my place anymore. How somebody else is going to make memories in it now, and I felt so angry. No! This is my place! I felt like they were invading my space."

"Yeah, exactly," Chrissy said.

"But...memories are all we really are guaranteed in this life. Memories are all that keep a lot of the people here warm at night. Even if their children never come visit, even if their spouse is gone, they still can wrap themselves in those memories, and the world doesn't seem so bleak. You can do that too. You can celebrate your grandfathers life by keeping his memories alive, that way he isn't really dead."

Chrissy smiled and sat up, "Please don't kill yourself."

"How about this, how about I promise not to kill myself if you promise to remember your grandpa every day. Does that sound fair to you?" Boris asked, and she nodded, when Boris added, "Now come on, I have something you actually can help me with."

                                                                                         ***

There was a knock at Leah's door, and she got up to answer it, setting her book down on the table by the chair. When she opened the door, she found Chrissy standing there, holding a bunch of flowers she and Boris had picked.

"...do I know you?" Leah asked.

"No, but these are for you," Chrissy said, "They're from a friend."

Chrissy handed Leah the flowers and turned and left, meeting Boris back outside. When Leah took the flowers, she turned the little card attached to it over and read what he'd written: "Remember, you have friends."

"This is stupid," Boris said as he tried to search through a small, plastic blue box containing dozens upon dozens of beads of different sizes, shapes and colors, "Where's all the goddamned brown?"

"I think Alice took them," Carol said, sniffling as she blew her nose into her kerchief before turning back to the task at hand."

"God, that's disgusting," Boris said, shying away from the snot rag.

"Oh, I'm sorry, does my bodily function bother you?" Carol asked.

"How're we doing over here?" a tall, lanky man with blonde facial hair, wearing a tucked in long sleeved blue shirt with a pin on it that read 'Alex' asked as he stopped at their table, "Everything going okay? Some of these are tricky to get right, so if anyone needs any help-"

"Yeah, could you ask Alice to stop taking all the goddamned brown? Or, if she won't, maybe kill her?" Boris asked, making Carol snicker.

"Just pick a different color, asshole," Alice said from the end of the table, forcing Boris to groan and look down the table towards her.

"Don't make me come down there!" he shouted.

"Like you could, Walker Texas Ranger," Alice shouted back, and Boris grimaced, looking at his sad crafts project in front of him, muttering.

"It's a cane," he said under his breath.

"What is the point of this activity?" Larry asked, "Nobody is ever going to come get it, trust me, and I certainly don't need some goddamned beads on colored string to make me feel better. Is there a point to this other than wasting an afternoon?"

"They make us do this shit because it 'keeps us vital', keeps our minds active," Carol said, and Alex grinned, touching her shoulder.

"That's exactly right," he said, "We wouldn't want you guys to slow down, we want to help keep you sharp and active. That's why we have these activity days."

"So we're not forced labor making cheap knock off wallets?" Boris asked.

"No, that's the elementary school down the street," Carol replied, the two of them laughing.

Alex eventually went back to his rounds, checking in on other tables and for a bit nobody said a thing. Boris was having a lot of trouble getting his beads threaded, and kept gritting his teeth due to the frustration. After a few seconds, he looked over at Carol and tried to follow her technique, which was to lick the end of the string and then thread it, but that just tasted awful, and finally he heard Whittle standing beside him.

"Need some help?" she asked happily, kneeling down beside him, "I used to do these sorts of things in girl scouts. I'm an expert threader."

"This is so mind numbingly boring, so if their intention is to keep our minds active, I think it's backfiring," Boris said, and Whittle chuckled as he continued, "So you were in the girl scouts?"

"Yeah, for a few years. I was only in it because my parents made me pick an extracurricular activity to do and it was that or something like soccer, and I sure as hell wasn't going to play a sport. I mean, I like playing sports by myself, tennis or something, but not team stuff."

"God dammit!" Alice shouted from down the table, "The whole string just snapped, goddamned beads just went everywhere!"

"That's what you get, thief!" Boris called down to her.

"Just die already!" Alice called back.

"You wish, Wrinkled In Time," Boris replied, before turning back to Whittle who had successfully threaded a few beads and was now halfway done; he sighed, and rested his cheek on his fist, posted up on his elbow, "So...I never did any sorts of crafts or anything."

"You weren't a creative kid?" she asked.

"I...I wrote, a little, I guess, but nothing else," Boris said, "I wrote poetry every now and then."

"You wrote poetry?" Carol asked.

"Was I talking to you?"

"You're talking by me," Carol said, shrugging, "What's the difference, really?"

"Proximity doesn't dictate participation," Boris said annoyed, turning back to Whittle, "But yeah, I did some poetry when I was younger and-"

"This is bullshit!" a voice finally shouted as a man, Thomas Lederman from the 4th floor, slammed his cane end on the table, "This is bullshit and we all know it! Fucking crafts?! Are you kidding me?! Fucking arts and crafts?! All the things I've accomplished, all the things I've achieved, and my last years are spent doing goddamned scrapbooking?! You've gotta be kidding me! I've won war medals for fucks sake! This is an insult!"

Nobody said a word, but a nurse and Alex finally started to approach Thomas.

"Would you like to go back to your room and lay down?" the nurse asked.

"I don't want to lay down! I want to do something that isn't a waste of time! It's bad enough I served my country, gave my family the best years of my life and in the end I get stuck here, forgotten, ignored! But no, you gotta give me some stupid fucking beads and string and..."

Thomas put his hand to his chest and started to sit down, his breathing getting labored. Alex motioned to get a doctor, but before the nurse was even down the hall, Thomas looked down at the box containing beads in front of him and fell face first in it. When they finally got him out of the room, it was revealed he'd suffered a mild stroke from raising his blood pressure, and they let the crafts activity get out early. Boris and Whittle headed out of the room and down the hall together.

"I mean, the guy's got a point," Boris said under his breath.

"I'm scared of getting old," Whittle said, "I've read up on my entire family history, and all the things everyone has suffered from, and I'm trying so fucking hard to make sure none of that happens to me, and you know it's all for nothing. Exercise? Dieting? You die either way."

"Life is a terrifying series of consequences you have little to no control over," Boris said, hands in his coat pockets, "But in the end, there's something to be said for having lived a full life, despite winding up in a place like this."

"You think?" Whittle asked.

"Sure," Boris said, "...all the trash has to go someplace, right?" and she smirked at him.

                                                                                               ***

When Boris wound up back in his room, he sat down on the bed and sighed. He put his hands on his knees and hummed to himself as he glanced around at his room and finally went to the closet, opened it up and got on his knees and pulled out a box. He opened it up and it was full of clothes. He did the same to another, this one filled with photos and such. Finally he opened a third box and it was nothing but books, all the same book. He took one out and looked at the cover.

"I Hope This Reaches You & Other Poems by Boris Carlyle"

He opened the book and a photo slid out, landing at his feet. He picked it up and looked at it, his eyes tearing up, and then he stuck it under his mattress before getting up and heading back out into the hall. Boris searched for a bit, trying to find Whittle, but unable to do so, he finally gave up and sat down in the Quiet Room where people went to read. As he sat in a rocking chair, Carol came in, stirring a cup of tea, she motioned at the book with her spoon.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Mmm? Oh, just something I wanted to show Nurse Whittle," he said, "Nothing important."

"Lemme see it," Carol said, taking the book from him, "...you were a published author?"

"Author's a bit generous," Boris said, "But yes I did write that book."

"That's...really cool, Boris," Carol said, sitting on the arm of his chair and reading a passage, "You are the phone call that never comes, the package that is never delivered, the pair of shoes that is never sold; you are here, but unable to be attained, and you like it better that way. That way you always have someone to blame, but I feel the shame, believe me I do, and I would do anything for you, I hope this reaches you."

Carol put the book down and looked at Boris, their eyes meeting.

"That was beautiful," Carol said, "...would you mind if i held onto this and read more of it?"

"No, go...go ahead," Boris said, smiling, trying not to cry, and she thanked him and got up, but as she turned to leave, he said, "Carol?"

"Hmm?"

"...please don't go," he said softly, and she nodded, sitting back down in a chair beside him.

Boris was starting to realize that the things he'd done, the people he'd lost? None of that really mattered now. What mattered now was this, here, the people he did have, the things he was doing. That's what really mattered, and sometimes it took a lot to remember that.

Jason really wanted to get out of this apartment. He had had his eye on a small place downtown that would be much better suited to his life, and he was thinking of asking Amie to move in with him. Jason had, for the past year or so since his father had passed, been trying to not be so materialistic, but he found it rather hard given the culture he lived in. Still...he was trying and he felt proud of himself for that. A few years ago? He'd have simply scoffed at the mere idea that he could give up money and possessions.

Ashley too had been wanting to better her life with new things. She'd really wanted to replace her scooter for a few years now, not to mention also maybe getting a better apartment so she and Anna could raise the baby in a more suited environment, and maybe even something with a nice home office. She also wanted to be financially stable enough to be able to take some time off for a bit, as she was finding herself creatively drained and that didn't help her work ethic, or her relationship with Anna.

Becca, however, wanted none of those things, or at least not at the level their siblings did. Sure, they wanted to move out of the house and get their own place and buy some nice stuff, but more than anything else, they wanted the money for their bottom surgery. Becca knew it was so cliche of themselves to so desperately want such a thing, thanks to the culture that now surrounded their community; the belief that you didn't need such a thing to be happy or validated, all of which is true. They wouldn't dismiss that. That being said, they still wanted it, because it would make themselves happy at least.

Yes, all three Fuller siblings wanted something great, something to better their lives, and now, each one was being given a lump sum of cash. Three separate piles of money was sitting on the top of the Payday board game in front of them on the coffee table in the living room, and each sibling was unsure of how to feel regarding it. Betty Fuller looked from the money to her children, her hands folded neatly on the table, wishing her husband was here to make sense of this.

After all, it was his money.

                                                                              AN HOUR EARLIER

"So you're telling me that the afterlife has a popular clique?" Ashley asked, sitting at the island in the kitchen.

"Oh, come on Ash," Becca said, "You seriously don't think there's some clique of cool ghosts who are making fun of the uncool ghosts who died in lame ways? Get real."

"So, that then begs the realization that there's an actual afterlife, like a ghost city, where people are working dead end jobs-"

"Cute," Becca said, interrupting.

"Thank you," Ashley said, "and raising ghost children. How do ghost children work?"

"I'd imagine since they can't copulate that it's much like adoption. A ghost couple decides they want to have a family, and so they sign themselves up for a kid, and when a kid dies and becomes a ghost kid, they call the ghost couple best suited for that ghost kid."

"You've spent a lot of time thinking about this," Ashley said, sipping her juice.

"I don't really have a social life or anyone to talk to so this is the sort of thing I spend my time thinking about," Becca said as they sat back down at the island across from their sister, peeling an orange.

"Maybe you'd have a social life if you didn't talk about this kind of stuff," Ashley said, snickering, "...where's mom? I thought we were playing Payday, and she's been out for like, 2 hours. I don't have all night to hang around here and talk about ghost babies, riveting as it may be."

"I don't know, she said she had an errand to run," Becca said.

Just then, Jason walked into the kitchen, alone, pulling his coat off his shoulders and tossing it on the kitchen counter before looking at his siblings at the island. He opened the fridge and got a beer, opened it to take a sip and then nodded at Becca.

"You're sitting at the island," he said.

"Yeah?"

"I don't know, you haven't been doing that for a while," Jason said.

"I know. I guess I decided it's time to come back inside," Becca said, eating their orange while Ashley spun around to see Jason toying with the board game and pieces.

"Where's mom?" Jason asked.

"I would like to know that as well," Ashley said, "No Amie this week?"

"Nah, she has a work thing. What're you two talking about?" he asked.

"Ghost adoption," they said in unison, and he shrugged before pulling up a bar stool at the island.

"Like, can you adopt a ghost, or like, ghosts who adopt baby ghosts?" Jason asked.

"Dude, I would totally adopt a ghost," Ashley said.

"It's not like bringing a cat home," Becca said, "Ghosts have very specific care requirements."

"They're dead! How much simpler could caring for something get?" Ashley asked, laughing, "It's not like I have to feed them or they're gonna starve! They ALREADY starved! That's why they're a ghost!"

Betty walked into the kitchen and set her purse down on the counter, before turning to face her children. All her children turned and looked at their mother, and for a moment, nobody said a single thing, and the kitchen was completely quiet. Finally, Betty cleared her throat and cupped her hands.

"We need to discuss something. Please come sit down at the table," she said.

The Fuller siblings got up and walked to the table, following their mother, and took their seats. Betty sat down as well, and placed a manila envelope on the table on top of the Payday board. The kids all looked at it, and then looked back at their mother, who cleared her throat and spoke.

"A few months ago, I spoke to your fathers attorney, and we came to a few decisions. Most of them do not concern you three, but there was one in particular that did, and that is what's inside this envelope. Inside this envelope is your fathers will, and he and I talked a LOT about how to word these things and how to manage our leftovers."

"So...dad's giving us meatloaf?" Ashley asked, making the other two laugh, and even making Betty smirk.

"Ashley, no, no, uh...your father and I decided that it wasn't very fair to make you guys wait until BOTH of us died to reap some sort of financial benefit from your less, so, your father and I each made our wills out so that whoever died first was to leave you kids each a lump sum of money. It's nothing outstanding, it's just money we've put away over the years. I know this past year has been really weird and hard and especially so for myself but...this is where we are. His only stipulation is that we play this game on the night I gave you this money and that we do not fight tonight. That's all he wants from you."

She picked up the dice and she rolled them, taking her turn and starting the game. Ashley, Jason and Becca all exchanged somewhat nervous glances, before each joining in. Jason sighed; he felt somewhat bothered by the fact that their own father thought they still couldn't get along without him outright telling them to. He wondered if this bothered Ashley and Becca or not, because the way Jason saw it, he'd spent much of the last year trying to be a better human being, and he felt the family, especially after tossing Ernie out on his ass, had come very far.

"Are you working this week?" Betty asked, looking at Becca as they took their turn.

"Um, no, I'm meeting with a doctor on Monday and then going to a support group," Becca said.

"A doctor? Are you okay?" Ashley asked, making Becca nod reassuringly.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just about...you know...surgeries and stuff," Becca said quietly, almost seemingly embarrassed at this admittance, before adding, "Not that I could afford it."

"You won't be able to," Betty said flatly, "I don't mean to be a bummer but even with the amount Harold left you specifically, it won't be enough. It's a good head start, but it's not enough."

"I understand that, and I also understand I may never be able to afford it," Becca said, "Cause this country loves its citizens SO much when it comes to their health and happiness."

I don't know that I really agree with dad-" Jason started.

"Ghost dad," Ashley said, looking at her game piece.

"Don't call your father ghost dad," Betty interjected.

"I don't know that I really agree with ghost dad," Jason continued, "I think we're doing fairly well as a family, honestly. I know I personally have been striving this year to better myself, and I know that, especially, after we kicked out Ernie things have gotten a lot better. I know Ashley and I had an argument last week, but...but we didn't just let it fester, I apologized and we talked it through and that's....god...that NEVER would've happened before."

"I think ghost dad would be proud of us," Ashley said.

"Stop calling your father ghost dad," Betty said sternly as Becca rolled the die, taking their turn.

"I think Jason and Ashley are right. I think we've been doing pretty good on our own. I don't think we need ultimatums from beyond the grave. I think ghost dad is kinda overstepping his boundaries here," Becca said.

"Okay, the next person to call your father ghost dad ISN'T getting money," Betty said sternly.

"Listen, paranormal parent aside," Jason said, making his siblings crack up, making himself struggle to speak through his own laughter, "Uh...I really do think that. Look at this family like a year or so ago, right? We were always at each others throats and we were always just arguing and angry and fighting and nothing was fun and now we just...honestly, I don't even need a game night to come over and hang out with you guys anymore. I just wanna hang out now."

Becca and Ashley smiled at Jason and nodded, agreeing with him.

"That's all very sweet, Jason, and personally, I agree with you," Betty said, "But this is what your father wanted. Can't you at least grant ghost dad that much? Oh christ, now you have ME doing it," she finished, covering her face in shame and laughter as Ashley took her turn.

"I think we already are granting him that wish," Ashley said.

"Would it be cool if I brought someone to family game night next time?" Becca asked, and everyone murmured in agreement, as they added, "Okay cool. I was nervous it would be weird but, as long as it's okay."

"It's totally okay," Ashley said, "Is it someone you're dating?"

"It's Sarah Riddley," Becca said quietly, surprising them all, "I've been texting and talking with her for months now, and things have gone well. We've gone out a few times, and I asked if she'd wanna come over for game night and she said yes, so."

"Does she know?" Jason asked.

"What? That my family is gonna be here?" Becca asked, "I mean, unfortunately that's not something I can work around, so she'll just have to deal with it I suppose."

"No, smartass," Jason said, chuckling, "No I mean, does she...you know...know? About you?"

"...yeah, she does. Not that it should matter, but unfortunately it does, so I told her and she's totally cool with it. Why do you care?" Becca asked, glaring somewhat at Jason, unsure of his motives.

"Because I wanna make sure you're not gonna get hurt. People are monsters, and the last person I wanna lose is another family member, especially the most vulnerable of the family," Jason said, "I don't have any ulterior motives or anything, Becca, I just...you're my sibling and I love you and I wanna make sure nobody is gonna hurt you. Sorry."

"I'm sorry, I just...don't really like talking about this stuff with you guys," Becca said, "It's weird. It's weird talking about something I kept to myself for so long."

"I understand that," Ashley said, "Coming out was weird as hell, but I got used to it. Not that my coming out and your coming out are the same at all, I'm not saying that, I'm just saying that I get it, you know? I understand, on some base level, how you're feeling."

"I know, thanks Ashley," Becca said, "...I came in to sit at the island cause I thought, ya know, dad wouldn't want me to be afraid of the place we spent the most time together. Having game night in the kitchen is weird, but I kinda like it, cause the kitchen's where he and I were most of the time we were together. I don't want dads money. I just...I want dad."

Everyone sort of exhaled and looked at their pieces, at the board game and at one another.

"We all want dad," Jason said, "But we are gonna have to learn to live without him. I hate that he...that he isn't going to see who I'm trying to become. That I waited SO long to better myself, and not while he was alive. I need to be the man he thought I could be, not the man society thinks I should be. Dad was caring and affectionate and emotional and...I don't know, at some point, somewhere along the way, I just was fed these beliefs that those were bad things for a man to feel and that's bullshit, that is utter bullshit, and I know that now. How can I admire a father who has so many traits people tell me are bad? Either my father is wrong or society is wrong, and frankly, I'm more willing to believe in my father than I am in society."

"Dad made me feel so welcomed when I first told him I was gay," Ashley said as Betty took their turn, rolling the die, "He said it explained a lot, and I guess in hindsight it does. Growing up I didn't realize the things I was doing, the way I acted, were signs of anything, but from an outsiders perspective, sure, he saw it. I didn't know exactly what was going on, but he knew something was different. He said that..." Ashley waited a second, sniffled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, "Um...he said that the whole time I was growing up I was miserable, and he could tell that, and now that I was out I couldn't be happier, and he said gay must mean happy for a reason if that's the case."

Betty put the die down and looked at the siblings, before getting up and leaving the kitchen, only coming back in with an enormous bag and unzipping it on the floor, pulling out stacks of cash, putting them on the table in three separate piles, one for each of the Fuller children. She then sat back down.

"Fuck the board game," Betty said, "I loved Harold to death, in ways I cannot describe, but you're right, this is stupid. You're way better than you used to be, and he would be so proud of you guys. I say instead of playing Payday, we just go out to dinner and have a nice time."

"That sounds good to me," Jason said, standing up, everyone getting their jackets back on before realizing Becca wasn't standing up. Jason knelt down next to their chair and asked, "What's up? You okay?"

"I think we should finish the game," Becca said, "It's the right thing to do."

Becca looked up at Jason, and he nodded, understanding and hugging them before sitting back down, everyone quickly following suit. So, for the first time a long time, the Fuller family sat together and had a very pleasant, enjoyable Family Game Night.

                                                                                                ***

Becca was sitting in the backyard, on the lawn chair they used to sit next to their father with, when the door opened and Jason came out. He sat down beside them and exhaled, as Becca pulled a beer from a cooler and handed it to them. Jason opened it and took a few sips before looking up at the stars.

"You made the right choice," Jason said, "Making us finish the game tonight."

"Dad told me once that family forces you to analyze yourself based on those around you, not so you can hate yourself, but so you can see why everyone else loves you so much. He said he loved us because he had made so many mistakes, but we were the one right thing he did that he didn't regret. His one real achievement in life. He said on nights like game night, when we're bickering and complaining and venting, that that's when you see yourself, and others, for who they are and that that's how you learn to accept and love one another. He said that family isn't a deal set in stone and that nobody gets a fair shake. You're given to the family you've got, and while that hurts some people because their family is total garbage, when you have a family like ours, he really realizes how lucky he got and it makes him happy."

"So Family Game Night is not so much because dad loved board games but because he loved us?" Jason asked.

"I think it's a mixture of both," Becca said, "but I told him that I love Family Game Night cause I miss our family. I miss when we were kids and everyone was together and these are the only times besides holidays we all dedicate a specific amount of time to see one another. We ARE lucky, Jason."

"We really are, I guess," Jason said, drinking more beer.

"You're a good son," Becca said, making Jason smile as he sat facing them, putting the beer on the ground and cupping his hands in his lap, looking at his shoes.

"Um," he started, "...Ashley went home but...uh...before she left we talked and...and I...I got her to agree with me that...we want you to have the money dad left us."

Becca nearly choked on their beer, now sitting up straight.

"Excuse me?!" they asked loudly.

"Yeah," Jason said, almost giggling, "Yeah, we...we realized that what we wanted were material possessions and that, ya know, while creature comforts make life better, we're pretty okay in the end. But you...all you want is to feel good about yourself, and feel comfortable in a world that demands you feel uncomfortable because of who you are and how you were born. I don't think that's fair. So we want to give you the money dad left us to maybe help you afford your surgeries."

"...Jason, jesus, I don't..."

Becca stumbled for words, and before they knew it they were crying. Jason got up and sat beside them, hugging them. Neither one of them needed to say a word. They'd already said enough. Sitting here, in the backyard under the stars after Family Game Night, comforting a member of their family they absolutely loved and admired for their bravery, Jason Fuller had finally become the man his father always knew he could be. Now it was Jasons turn to take care of his family.

"Will you come with me?" Becca asked, "To look at some stuff, I mean. They give you examples of what they can do with what they have to work with, so you get to look at all these various vaginas. It's pretty great. Just a wall of pussy."

"I'll never say no to pussy," Jason said.

"Amen," Becca said, the two clinking their beer cans together and laughing.

Jason Fuller was having some serious doubts about his life right now.

As he drove over to his mothers house, his girlfriend Amie in tow and her little sister in the backseat, he couldn't help but feel like a wedge was being created between himself and his family somehow. Lately, his sister, Ashley, had seemed to be a bit distant towards him. Perhaps it was because she was a new mother now, granted to a child that was technically his and his ex wifes, but still, he wasn't sure he could just chuck that all up to that reasoning. He sighed as they came to a red light and glanced over at Amie, who was scrolling through her phone.

"What's up?" he asked, nodding at her.

"Oh, my friend Cassie is in Rome and I'm just looking at her photos she's been sending me. It looks so beautiful. I've never been to Italy or anything in that region, but I'd love to go sometime," Amie said.

"I'm sure it'd be nice, yeah," Jason said, "You okay back there?" he added, craning his neck to the backseat, grinning at Amies little sister, who glanced up and nodded, giving a little smile, before she turned back to her book.

"I made kale chips for your mom last week," Amie said, "They came out pretty good. It was fun working with her."

"Yeah, my mom is pretty fun," Jason said, smiling at the image of Betty and Amie working on something together and enjoying it, "Wish I'd been there to see it, or help."

"Did you like cooking growing up?" Amie asked, touching his arm gently, and he winced as he thought back to the Home Ec incident. Flashes of Ashley screaming and sobbing, flashes of himself in the kitchen, flashes of destroyed food. He shook his head and shrugged.

"You know, a little, but not a whole lot. I enjoy it more these days though," Jason said.

He wanted to talk to Amie about it, he wanted to tell her about all the awful things that had happened between his sister and himself in the past, but he just couldn't allow himself to. Something was stopping him. He figured that, sometimes, some things were best kept between siblings. As they approached the house and parked, and Amie got out with her little sister, Jason sighed and looked at the light on in the kitchen window. He grimaced and shuddered. God that kitchen had seen some shit.

                                                                                         ***

Ashley couldn't bake.

No matter what she did, she simply couldn't bake, and it killed her. This was in eighth grade, and she so desperately wanted to be able to bake, but she ruined everything she tried to make. It came out overdone or underdone, or simply inedible. Ashley had a lot of problems with the math related to baking; it was considered a science, and she wasn't very good at science either. At least, not in the kitchen sense. Watching from afar, however, Jason simply couldn't understand why this was so important to her.

After all, it was just Home Ec.

                                                                                          ***

"Are you really trying to say that you don't want to replace all your body parts with bionic limbs?" Becca asked, "Come on, you get older and if anyone questions you, you could just crush them with your robot arm."

"It sounds tempting, certainly, but think of the drawbacks," Ashley said, taking a swig of her beer on the porch, "You'd set off metal detectors EVERYWHERE, for one. Plus what if you end up around a large magnet and got stuck to it?"

"Where are you that you're hanging around an enormous magnet?" Becca asked, pushing a cracker in their mouth.

"I don't know! Maybe I get a job at a magnet factory, and they all actually are a cult and worship The One Almighty Magnet, and one night, while cleaning up-"

"Cleaning up? You're the janitor?"

"It's the only job I can get after the incident at my last job, where I high fived my coworker Daryl so hard I almost killed him."

"He's alive?" Becca asked.

"He'll be fine, but his family will never be the same. His child will now have to love to learn a man with only half a body. She's got a half dad now. Half dad can love and learn and live, but things will never go back to the way they were. But they'll manage. After all, his body may be half, but his heart is still whole," Ashley said, "Anyway, one night I'm cleaning and I get stuck to the Almighty Magnet and can't get down and they never find me and I starve up there."

"That's ridiculous, Ashley, you wouldn't starve. You'd be more machine than human by that point. You'd simply become one with the Almighty Magnet and take over the cult," Becca said, just as Jason walked up to the porch with Amie and her little sister.

"What're you guys talking about?" Jason asked.

"Magnets and cyborgs," Becca said.

"Of, well, of course. Why didn't I just figure as much," Jason said, shrugging, "Totally normal thing to discuss. I'm going in. Where's mom?"

"She's doing laundry," Ashley said, getting up, "I'll go with you."

"Why?"

"Cause she's doing my laundry."

"You have a machine!" Jason said, as Ashley opened the door and he followed her inside.

"That doesn't negate how lazy I am," Ashley replied, the door shutting behind them.

Becca looked at their phone, and after a moment, back up at Amie, still standing in front of them, their hands on their sisters shoulders. Becca looked from Amie to the kid, and then back up to Amie before raising their eyebrows, lowering their phone and clearing their throat.

"You're not going inside? Cause I'm not that exciting," they said.

"Becca, this is my little sister. I thought you might like to talk to her," Amie said, patting her sisters shoulder, "I'll leave you two alone," she added, before heading inside as well. Her sister, Katie, sat down on the porch swing beside Becca, neither one speaking. Becca continued looking at their phone while Katie continued reading their book, and then after a moment, Katie looked up and looked at Becca.

"Are you really like me?" they asked, taking Becca by surprise, forcing them to look at her.

"What?...a parasite that feeds on the remains of their enemies?" Becca asked, then, hushing their voice, added, "...it's so nice to no longer be the only one."

Katie chuckled and shook her head before saying, "No, my sister says you're like me. Cause we're...different."

That's when it hit Becca. Amie's sister WAS like Becca. It wasn't very blatantly obvious to Becca because they were a child, and children generally were indistinguishable in either gender, but now that they could see it, oh it made their heart swell with joy. Becca smiled and nodded. Katie smiled back.

"Cool," she said, before looking back into her book, and the two of them sat, reading their own respective items.

Inside, following Ashley first into the kitchen before heading to the laundry room, Jason couldn't shake this awful feeling he'd had in the car. He sat at the island as he watched his sister open the fridge, get out a bottle of soda, pour herself a glass and down the whole thing in seconds flat. She wiped her mouth on her arm and burped, looking at him.

"What?" she asked.

"Why aren't you doing your own laundry?" he asked.

"Why is this so important to you?" she asked, shrugging, "I don't know. I don't care. It's just laundry."

Jason scowled and looked at his hands on the island tabletop.

                                                                                          ***

Jason couldn't take it anymore, watching his sister cry.

She'd been crying for what felt like hours, all because she couldn't remove a stain from something her Home Ec teacher had given her. He was standing outside her bedroom, in the upstairs hallway, just watching her from around the corner of the door as she sat on the bed and cried, clutching the pair of pants to her chest. He didn't understand why this upset her this deeply. He understood being frustrated, he understood being upset, he understood that this was, in fact, a school assignment, and thus something she would be graded on, and thus something that could affect her grade, but this level of sobbing? Over a grade? Especially when she was never one to care much about school to begin with.

After all, it was just Home Ec.

                                                                                            ***

Jason followed Ashley into the living room where, much to his chagrin, the game Twister was laid out on the floor, ready and waiting to be played. He grimaced and looked from the floor back to his sister, who was now grinning at him eagerly.

"PLEASE tell me we're not playing this," he said.

"We're playing this," she said, "Nobody would play it with me when we were kids, and now you're gonna HAVE to play it with me, so suck it up and bend over."

Jason sighed as the front door opened and Becca and Katie came inside, Amie rejoining them from the bathroom. They watched as Jason and Ashley stood over the game board on the floor and prepared to play. Ashley did some stretches, while Jason cracked his joints and removed his shoes. Ashley kicked her flip flops off, as Becca sat down on the couch with Katie, who pointed at them.

"What are they doing?" she asked, leaning into Becca, whispering.

"Don't worry, they're just embarrassing themselves. It's fine. They're used to it."

"I am gonna kick your ass," Ashley said, smirking at Jason as she stepped onto the mat.

"Not that hard, considering how often I'll be bent over," he replied, also stepping onto the mat.

"You wanna join?" Ashley asked, shooting a glance at Becca.

"What, and interrupt the battle of the ages? I think not," they replied, making Katie laugh.

Ashley handed the spinner to Amie, who took it and spun, while Jason and Ashley glared at one another playfully. Amie looked at the spinner and then back up at them, before announcing, "Right hand on red." Jason and Ashley accepted this, and both put their right hands on red. Amie spun it again and read out a new verdict, "Left leg on green." They obliged to this one as well. Leaning over a bit now, Ashley smirked at her brother and cocked an eyebrow.

"Feeling the heat yet?" she asked.

"I'm feeling tendons I forgot existed, but that's about it," Jason replied, making her laugh, "Who invented this hellish game?! Some sort of demonic yoga instructor?"

"You have a rip in your pants," Becca said from the couch.

"I am aware of that!" Jason shouted back over his shoulder as Amie spun the spinner a third time, this time announcing "right leg on yellow", to which both sibling strained to achieve. Betty walked in, holding a basket of laundry and looked at Jason as she walked by.

"Sweetheart, you have a rip in your pants," she said, continuing to the kitchen to fold the laundry.

"I know, mom!" he yelled at her as she exited the room.

Why was he always being twisted into situations like this.

                                                                                           ***

Jason knocked on Ashley's door and came in anyway, even without an answer. She was laying on the bed, covering her head with a pillow as he sat down on the bed near her feet and sighed. She sniffled and spoke, her voice muffled under the pillow.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I, um...I baked your brownies and I got that stain out of your clothing for Home Ec," he said softly. Ashley sat up and pulled the pillow away from her face, hugging it to her chest as she looked at him, holding a tray of brownies and the folded piece of clothing slung over his shoulder. She looked from each thing to his face and then appeared confused as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because you were having trouble, and it wasn't fair," Jason replied, "I didn't want you to fail. Are you okay?"

Ashley pulled her legs to her chest, hugging them and shook her head, "No, not really, I...I should be able to do this sort of stuff. I'm a girl."

"That's a sexist generalization."

"I know, but still, I HAVE to be feminine in some way cause...I..." she looked away from her brother at the floor and sighed, "...I have to be feminine in some way because I'm not feminine in the one way that society counts, which is liking men."

"...you don't like men?" Jason asked, and Ashley shrugged, as he continued, "Well, whatever. Who cares. You're cool, Ashley, so screw if you can do this stuff, you know? Besides, that's why we have bakeries and dry cleaners."

Ashley laughed a little as Jason set the stuff on the bed and stood back up, putting his hands in his pants pockets as he looked down at her on the bed.

"And for what it's worth, you're not alone. I too don't like men," he added, making her laugh more, "Good night," he added, before turning and heading out of her bedroom and to his own. Ashley picked up the pan of brownies and looked at them, and realizing he was right. It didn't matter. So she wasn't the most feminine person. Who gave a shit. She was cool, and that was far more interesting. Her sexuality had nothing to do with her femininity. And she shouldn't care that much to begin with anyway, it was just an extra credit class.

After all, it was just Home Ec.

                                                                                             ***

"Why are you making this so hard?!" Jason shouted, his body now contorted completely on the game board, Ashley underneath him, her body just as twisted. Ashley groaned as Amie spun the spinner once again, and announced, "Right foot blue". Jason moved his foot to the blue and heard Ashley scream as he smashed her hand underneath it, making her fall, and he fell on top of her, both of them now laying crumpled on the game board on the floor.

"God that hurt!" Ashley cried out, holding her hand.

"This game is evil! Whoever made this game is evil and I will punch them in the face if I ever meet them!" Jason yelled, "Why did you wanna play this?!"

"Because it matched my mood," Ashley said.

"Oh, you're forced into uncomfortable positions too, wife stealer?!" Jason screamed as they crawled away from one another and sat on the floor, staring at one another. Ashley exhaled, and he could tell she was on the verge of tears; he immediately felt bad for going there.

"You're one to talk, you put me into just as awkward a position, raising a child with YOUR ex wife, a child that's ACTUALLY yours. It's like some fucked up incestuous situation, it's creepy," Ashley said, "Maybe if you'd been a better husband things wouldn't have ended between you two."

"That's not fair," Jason said, "That is NOT fair. You know I was not totally at fault. You of ALL people should know that people cannot decide their sexuality or who they're attracted to."

"Forget it," Ashley said, getting up and storming off, crying. Jason sighed and rubbed his head as he looked around the room and saw Amie standing there, staring at him. He slowly stood up and walked to her, his head hung low.

"I'd like to go home," he said softly.

"I don't think you can. I think you have to apologize to your sister," Amie said.

"...okay," Jason said softly before turning and heading up to Ashleys old room. When he opened the bedroom door, he found her window open. He leaned out it and looked around, until he saw one of her boots hanging down from the roof. Jason climbed out the window and up onto the roof, where he saw Ashley sitting, her knees pulled up to her chest. He sighed as he settled in next to her.

"...I'm sorry," Jason said, "...things are weird, you're right, there's no denying that. Um...but I guess I...I just-"

"I picked Twister because that's what this feels like, Jason. I feel like we're both constantly forcing ourselves into uncomfortable positions to make life work."

"God, using a board game as a metaphor, who're you, dad?" he asked, smirking at her, as she smiled and pushed his shoulder playfully before he continued, "Ashley...I'm sorry. I think we're both pretending to be far more well adjusted than we actually are. I guess I'm still not totally over Anna, but I am trying so hard to become a better person and to be happy with Amie."

"I know you are, I can tell. I'm happy for you for doing that, Jason," Ashley said.

"...so like, for real though, fuck Twister, right?" Jason asked.

"Seriously. Um...do you wanna borrow a pair of my pants?" Ashley asked, "Ya know, since yours are ripped?"

"Well, you do have a whole basket of clean laundry downstairs," Jason replied, both of them laughing.

Meanwhile, sitting in the living room still on the couch, Becca felt like they had to say something, anything, to Katie, after what they'd just witnessed. Becca cleared their throat and leaned in a bit closer, almost whispering.

"Don't worry, not all families are like this," Becca said.

"Did they accept you easily?" Katie asked, pushing hair behind her ear, her large brown eyes looking up at Becca.

"...Y...yeah, I mean, ya know, there was a period of adjustment, obviously, but...but they certainly accepted me and none of them have given me any shit. But I recognize I'm lucky. I come from an educated, civilized family. Despite what you did just see, we are rather civilized, I swear," Becca said, making Katie laugh before they continued, "But, does your family not accept you?"

"Amie's been great," Katie said, "But mom and dad, mom especially..."

"Mothers have this strange adoration and obsession with their first born sons, so when their first born sons turn out to not be a first born son, yeah, it can screw with them I guess. That being said, that doesn't excuse any sort of grief they're giving you."

"It's not so much grief as it is...disappointment. They won't say anything, but they also don't acknowledge it either. They're in denial," Katie said, looking at her shoes, "I think that's why Amie brought me here, cause she knew I'd be accepted and have someone to talk to about it. She's a pretty great sister."

"She seems to be, yeah," Becca said, looking up at Amie and smiling; they cleared their throat and put their hand on Katies back, saying, "Don't worry too much about it all. In the grand scale of the universe, and I know this might seem weird coming from someone with such a tight knit family, but, parents are about the least influential people you will have in your life. Take it from me."

                                                                                               ***

Jason knocked on Ashleys door, and she opened it, her hair in curlers. He was standing in the hallway, holding his schoolbooks and backpack, looking rather unhappy. She opened the door a bit further and let him come in, where he sat on her bed.

"What's up?" she asked.

"You're good at english, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, "Why? You need some help?"

He nodded, and she smiled, sitting beside him. Ashley took his books from him and opened them, helping him with his homework. He didn't mind, he needed the help and he wasn't too prideful to not accept it, and Ashley didn't mind helping, he'd helped her with Home Ec and she enjoyed spending time with her brother and she was good at english. Besides, she knew he'd pick it up. It wasn't that hard.

After all, it was just english class.

"Are you telling me that you have never eaten Kale?" Amie asked, standing at the sink with Betty as she helped her wash the Kale she'd brought over.

"Never once in my life," Betty said, "Harold always wanted to go vegetarian, wanted to help the planet, said it'd be healthier, but I like meat far too much to allow that to happen."

"I understand, I had that issue too in the beginning once I learned of all the alternatives, but I still won't make someone else feel bad for eating meat. It's their choice. God knows I hate it when people judge me for my food choices, so why would I ever do that to someone else," Aime said as she finished washing it and was now laying it out on a cookie sheet, starting to season it, "But I do this, I make these chips out of it, and I know you'll love it. They're delicious and they don't take very long, maybe a half hour at best in the oven."

"I'm willing to try anything once," Betty said, stopping and putting a hand on her hip, chewing her lip, "You know, thinking back to it, there was quite a bit I wanted to do that Harold never let me do and vice versa. But I guess that's what our generation believed love was, making sacrifices. I am so proud that you've all moved beyond that, that you're willing to stand up and say 'no, this is what I like to do and eat and wear and you have to accept me for that or find someone else'. You're not willing to completely censor yourselves from being yourselves for the love of someone else."

"Well put," Aime said, seasoning the kale still, "But it's not that way altogether. I mean, there's always some stuff you have to come to terms with or, like, I don't know...make bargains on, you know? Like, compromising, you know?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, like...sexual stuff, I guess, for one example," Aime said, making Betty laugh.

"I guess that's probably true. You don't want your entire relationship to fall apart simply because he likes one thing and you prefer another," Betty said, "You know, I there were definitely things I did NOT like to do in bed when I was younger, not that I'm doing them now either, but whatever."

"I don't know where this stigma that women don't like sex or don't like certain sexual acts has come from. I happen to enjoy oral sex," Aime said.

"I'm glad, and I know it's not perfect obviously but, I was going to say that I am glad that women your age are allowing yourselves that much," Betty said, "God knows I would've been called the absolute worst things had I said that when I was younger. The times, they are a-changin'."

                                                                                         ***

Sitting on the porch swing, Becca was scrolling through their phone, trying to find something to say to keep the conversation between themselves and Sarah Riddle alive. They had been chatting on and off for a long while now, but Becca had always been more of a reserved person, scared to open themselves up to someone, especially in the romantic sense, but they were really trying to be someone different these days. Washed out headlights flooded the driveway, blinding them momentarily, as Ashley pulled into view and got out of the car.

"Yo yo yo," Ashley said, hopping up the porch steps, "Sup?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Absolutely nothing. Aime is here," Becca said, "She and mom are cooking snacks. I guess Jason is busy doing something? Where's Anna?"

"Exhausted at home, taking care of the baby," Ashley said, sitting down on the bench next to Becca and sighing, "God...do you think we were hard to raise? I don't really think we were all that troublesome or whatever, but who knows. What if we made things really hard on mom without knowing it or meaning to?"

"Well, there was that crime ring we ran when we were, like, 9, and then of course all the murder convictions, but other than that and the secret brother we shoved in the walls never to be seen again, I think we were alright," Becca said.

"Yeah..." Ashley said, kicking her legs, "Poor Gilbert. I wonder if he ever got out of the wall."

Becca smirked, "What's going on? You seem depressed."

"I'm...alive? I mean, existence in its essence IS depressing," Ashley said, "But I don't know, I guess I just wasn't really prepared to really be a parent, you know? Like, thinking about it is one thing, telling myself I'm ready, that's...that's not actual preparation. I did nothing to prepare and I don't know what I'm doing."

"NO mom knows what they're doing at first," Becca said, "Look at it this way, you haven't left your baby in a hot car yet, so you're already ahead of the curve."

"If that little bitch doesn't stop crying all night, I may have no choice but to leave them in a hot car," Ashley said, the both of them laughing, "I mean...can you just assure me that this whole situation isn't, like, totally buttfucking weird? Seriously, okay. I'm dating, and living with, my brothers ex-wife and raising their 2nd child as my own. Like, I need some goddamned normalcy."

"You're fine, trust me, if anyone of us is the weird one, it's me," Becca said.

"Hey, don't say that, there's nothing weird about you. I mean, aside from the second head," Ashley said, punching them gently in the shoulder, "Seriously though, you're not weird, Becca, okay? Please don't think that about yourself. I love you."

"Thanks," Becca said, smiling, "You're a great sister."

"So...what kind of snacks are they making?" Ashley asked.

"Kale chips," Becca replied.

"Jesus, like playing board games weekly wasn't bad enough, now my childhood home is being turned into the hippest vegan joint in town. Soon I'll need an ugly scarf that matches nothing and pre ripped jeans just to get a reservation in my own living room."

"It's....yeah," Becca said, shaking their head, "I can't even joke about it. It's THAT dire, you're right. But I think it's good for mom to have a female friend like Aime, you know? It helps her not feel so alone, cause we're her kids, but she's just some girl our brother is dating. Some girl she happens to know now, and so I think that allows them to talk a bit more freely."

"Mom has NEVER had a problem talking freely, trust me. I think Ernie proved that point," Ashley said.

"Valid argument," Becca said.

"Alright, welp, I'm going inside," Ashley said, standing up and pulling her shirt up over her nose, "Wish me luck."

"Godspeed Indiana Fuller," Becca said as Ashley pushed her way through the front door.

                                                                                            ***

Upon entering the kitchen, Ashley found her mother helping Aime get her kale chips into the oven as they poured themselves new glasses of wine. Ashley simply stood there, in the kitchen doorway, arms folded, leg tapping, waiting to be noticed, and it was in those moments that she realized...she hadn't seen mom be this happy in a while. It seemed like ever since dad had died, mom had always been nervous of empty or angry, but now, here, with Aime...she couldn't put her finger on it, but something about Betty seemed warmer. Brighter. More alive.

Finally, Aime noticed Ashley and waved at her, her mouth full of wine and mixed nuts. Betty turned around, swallowed her own wine and smiled, also waving at Ashley.

"Sweetheart! You're here! We're making kale chips!" Betty said, chipper.

"Yeah, Becca told me," Ashley said, "I'll alert Whole Foods."

"Would you like some wine?" Aime asked.

"I guess," Ashley said.

As Aime went to get another wine glass, Ashley sat at the island and Betty stood across from her. Aime came back to the island and started pouring Ashley a glass, which Ashley thanked her for.

"You seem happy," Ashley said as she lifted her wine glass and took a sip.

"I AM happy," Betty said, "I feel like...like the negativity that Ernie brought into this house has finally left in full force and everything feels good again. It helps to have someone around, too, who is so positive."

"I try," Aime said, chuckling before excusing herself to use the bathroom. As soon as she'd exited the room, Ashley downed the entire glass, and then Aime's glass and then looked at her mother, a very concerned look on her brow.

"Mom," she said, "What the FUCK?"

"She's positive, Ashley, and I know that doesn't vibe with your whole angsty lesbian thing-"

"Whoa, okay. Ouch."

"-but," Betty continued, "It makes ME feel good. I deserve to feel good. I deserve to have a life, even if Harold doesn't have one anymore. I was a person outside of my marriage, you know. I want to do new things and have new friends. I want to be a whole person again. She gave me this."

Betty put her thumb under the chain around her neck and leaned forward, holding it out so Ashley could see it.

"It's a rock," Ashley said.

"It's a crystal!" Betty said excitedly, "It's supposed to bring me a good aura."

Ashley shrugged and sighed, pouring herself the last of the wine, raising her glass to her mother.

"Well, either way, I'm glad you're happy," she said, grinning, before downing this new glass as well. Just then, Becca entered the kitchen and picked up the wine bottle, looking at it before looking at Betty and Ashley, both of whom just shrugged. Becca leaned against the island as Betty put her wine glass down.

"Goodness, I should make sure Amie is alright in there, and bring her a hand towel. I did laundry but I forgot to put it away," Betty said, exiting the kitchen, leaving Becca and Ashley alone again.

"So what's crawled up mom's ass?" Becca asked.

"Self enlightenment," Ashley replied.

Together, they shuddered.

"So what are we even playing?" Ashley asked.

                                                                                                ***

As it turned out, Betty had already set up a game in the living room; Connect 4.

Granted, it wasn't the most involved game they'd ever played, but tonight was supposed to be simple. It was just the ladies, and it was supposed to be a generally relaxed evening. As they all took their seats in the living room, Becca pulled their flannel shirt off at the shoulder, nudging Ashley to look over. Ashley looked over, almost choked on the cracker she was eating and pointed.

"You got a tattoo!" she said, mouth full of cracker.

"I did indeed," Becca said.

"That's so cool!" Ashley said, touching their shoulder, "When did you do this?"

"Last week, right after the hospital," Becca said, "Be gentle, it's still a bit sore. Everybody I asked said it hurts but it was honestly fine."

"Well, you have a good pain tolerance, I mean, all that BDSM," Ashley said, she and Becca mock laughing at the joke when Amie came in.

"Tattoos?" Aime asked, "Yeah, it didn't hurt nearly as much, but it also depends where you get it and how long it lasts, like, the size."

"See, size DOES matter," Becca said, making Ashley laugh.

"I mean, when I was getting my first sleeve done, it was pretty painful, but that was because my body hadn't acclimated to the pain yet. Now it doesn't hurt one bit. I can sit and get tattooed for hours and it's no big deal," Aime said, "What did you get?"

"Can't be any worse than Sundew," Ashley mumbled, making Becca crack up.

"Um, it's Venus," Becca said in between fits of laughter, "It's a tattoo of Venus, cause, ya know, men are from mars, all that shit."

"Right, right," Amie said, "You know, thank you for letting me be here, even without Jason. My family is kind of broken up and doesn't talk much, so it's nice to have some sort of family to be around. It makes me not feel so alone."

In that singular moment, Ashley saw Anna in Amie. She understood now why Jason loved her. Because Amie was just yet another Anna. Someone loving, full of ideals, of beliefs, who came from a broken home, who loved being with his family instead. Amie continued towards the kitchen to get the kale from the oven as Becca and Ashley took their seats on the couch in front of the Connect 4 board. Becca sighed.

"We're mean people," they said.

"I don't know that we're 'mean' people, necessarily, but yeah, we might be a bit more bitchy than we should be," Ashley said, "I can't help it though, I'm catty, that's just what I am. Jason knows this. He knows I don't mean the things I say to him, that it's just a sister poking fun at a brother."

"I want to feel like I fit in, but I don't know that I do," Becca said, "I thought maybe I did, after Anna had the child, I finally felt like maybe I was actually a part of this family, but I..."

They paused and looked at their hands in their lap.

"I miss dad," they whispered, and Ashley laid her head on their shoulder, rubbing their back.

"Yeah, me too."

"Alright, you ready to play?" Betty asked, coming into the room and sitting down across from them. Becca shrugged and looked off into the distance as Ashley pulled her hair back into a ponytail and smiled. Amie came back from the kitchen with all the kale chips on a small plate, putting it down on the new coffee table.

"So, I never really asked," Ashley said, as she started playing, taking her first turn against her mother, but looking at Amie, "What were you doing in Africa anyway? Like, you said you and Jason met there but-"

"Yeah, at the hotel, and then we started going to Yoga together," Amie said, making Becca and Ashley snicker.

"Jason does Yoga now?" Becca asked.

"He's very good," Amie said, eating a few chips, "Yeah, and he was telling me about his trip and stuff, and how, like, amazing Africa was and I told him that I'd gone a few years ago and that that trip was my second, and that we should get together and share pictures and stuff, so we started meeting for lunch and just...I don't know, I guess we really hit it off, heh."

"So why did you go to Africa in the first place?" Becca asked.

"It's just a really beautiful place, and it's so much...I don't know how to put it...hopeful? Yeah, I guess hopeful than our country. The people there are just....so good. I know, there's bad everywhere, capitalism reigns supreme and greed is universal, but still, there's just something so nice in the air everywhere you go there that you can't help but feel happy."

"That's...really nice," Becca said.

"I'm glad you remembered to take those out," Betty said, taking her turn and motioning to the kale chips, "Because I have not been remembering very well lately. I mean, I know that's just a part of getting older, but still, it's slightly embarrassing at times."

"It was no problem Miss Fuller," Amie said, handing her the chip plate as Becca leaned back into the couch and looked around the room.

"You know," Becca said, crunching on chips, "things are nowhere near as combative when men aren't here."

"You mean Jason isn't here, since he's the only guy we have around at this point," Ashley said.

"Was Jason a mean person?" Amie asked, taking the chip plate back, watching Ashley and Becca grimace at one another as Betty took her turn.

"It's not that Jason was mean, exactly, it's that he was misinformed and overexpecting. Like most guys, especially straight white guys, he just sort of assumed that his life was the best life, that only he faced any sort of real struggle, and that everyone around him just wasn't trying hard enough. But, I have to give him credit, he seems to have come a long way from that," Ashley said, taking her turn.

"Has he?" Becca asked, everyone turning to look at them, as they shrugged and continued, "I mean, has he? Sure, he seems like a better person, but getting some new morals and white guy dreadlocks doesn't really change much other than your general outward appearance. I want to believe Jason is becoming a better person too, but sorry, it's kind of hard after knowing him my whole life."

"I understand," Amie said, surprising them, "I mean, I love him but I understand. My father was very harsh to me my whole life, and he never once even tried to understand me or get to know the things I was interested in. He once accused me of only being interested in them because they were things he wasn't interested in. Then, once I stopped talking to him for a few years, he suddenly becomes this wholly enlightened individual who wants to hear my opinions on things? No. He was just pretending so he could still gaslight me. So, Becca, I understand that sentiment more than you know."

Becca had to admit, that wasn't what they were expecting to hear. Perhaps, Becca thought to themselves, this girl wasn't so bad. Perhaps they were exactly what Jason needed and, perhaps, Jason was in turn becoming an actually better person.

"Harold was never like that," Betty said, smiling, "He was always caring, always considerate, unlike his brother. He had a temper at times but never was it directed at me or any of you kids. I miss him so much every day, never think the people you care about will be here as long as you will, because chances are one of you will be gone before the other."

Nobody said a word for a moment as Ashley took her turn and sighed. She pushed her bangs from her face and looked across the table at her mother.

"I'm going to get a beer, mom, do you wanna come?" she asked, and Betty nodded, standing up after Ashley and following her to the kitchen, leaving Becca and Amie there together. Amie sighed and looked around the living room, then held out her hand and looked at her nails.

"What color do you like on your nails?" she asked.

"Honestly, I prefer pretty basic colors," Becca said, "Just robins egg blue or something like that."

"I like coral."

"Coral is always a good color," Becca said.

"Can I ask you something, and...please don't take it the wrong way," Amie said.

"When someone says 'don't take this the wrong way' you're already preparing them to take it the wrong way, but sure, go ahead," Becca said, making them both chuckle as Amie looked to the floor and ran her palm across the carpet.

"Um," she started, "...was it hard for you, to, ya know...admit to yourself who you were?"

"...it wasn't that it was hard, it's more that I just didn't want to," Becca said, sitting forward now, cupping their hands in their lap, "Uh...yeah, it's more like I figured I shouldn't rock the boat, especially once Ashley came out because, why the hell make things more difficult for everyone, you know? And my own life too, I didn't have a good life, I had a stupid job and I still have said stupid job and I wasn't happy and I'm still pretty unhappy but at least these days I'm more unhappy about other things, not about who I am or who I wish I could be."

"Hmmm," Amie said, chewing on her lip, "I guess that makes sense, and I'm happy you could find some sort of happiness in your life."

Becca smiled and sat back on the couch, relaxing. They were starting to really like this girl. They could now see why Jason had fallen for her as well.

                                                                                          ***

In the kitchen, sitting at the island and drinking their beers, Ashley couldn't take her eyes off her mothers fingers on her free hand, fondling the little crystal that Amie had given her. Ashley finally looked up to her mothers face and sighed.

"Mom, are you okay?" Ashley finally asked.

"I don't know, Ashley. I feel like I'm trying to keep everyone and everything together and it's all pointless and impossible. Family game night was the most important thing to your father, and I want to carry that tradition on for him, but...I don't know what I'm doing Ashley. Are you happy?"

"Am I happy?"

"I wanna be happy," Betty said, sniffling, "I want to be ecstatic to be alive. But it's hard. When you spend most of your life with another person and then they're just gone, in the blink of an eye, not even from a drawn out terminal illness you get to come to terms with, but just gone...it fucks you up. I try so hard to be okay, I...I throw myself into books or outdoor activities to try and be okay and just find something I enjoy but I don't really enjoy anything without your father."

"Well this isn't going to pass the Bechdel test," Ashley muttered, "What about all that crap earlier, about, ya know, wanting to be a whole person again and you were a person before dad?"

"Oh god, please," Betty said, "That was such malarky."

"Malarky?"

"It's a word."

"That doesn't mean you get to use it like it's normal," Ashley said, making them laugh.

"I'm not saying you can't be a whole person without another person, but I am saying it's hard to readjust. Harold and I spent most of our time together, because we were best friends and we liked the same things and we enjoyed doing housework together. It's hard, Ashley, it's very...very hard to come back from losing that."

"Well, you have us," Ashley said, "I mean, I know we all suck, but, you have us."

"I know, and I appreciate it," Betty said, standing up and kissing her daughters head, "Now let's get back out there and finish this game."

                                                                                            ***

After the game, Becca and Betty watched TV while Amie headed home, and Ashley headed back to the apartment. As they entered, they found Anna laying on the couch, the baby laying on their chest. Anna looked over to Ashley and smiled, her eyes half shut, clearly dead tired.

"How was it?" Anna asked.

"It was alright, kind of a bummer, but...we all missed you," Ashley said, sitting on the couch, picking the baby up and holding it, "You're gonna come next week, right?"

"Yeah, definitely," Anna said, sitting up and running her fingers through her hair, "If you'll put her down for the night, I'm going to take a shower, cause I feel gross."

"I'll join you if you wait," Ashley said, surprising her, as she added, "I just...I want to make things work and make things feel normal. Things don't feel normal. At home or here."

"I understand," Anna said, "Jason and I have kind of put you in a weird situation."

"That's putting it lightly, yeah," Ashley said, chuckling, "But...I want to make it work. I want to be your best friend, and I want us to do more things together, outside of family game night."

"Well, we can manage that," Anna said, kissing Ashley before standing up and taking her top off, heading for the bathroom. Ashley blushed and went to put their little girl in her bassinet, looking at her for a moment, touching her face gently, before leaning in and kissing her little nose. She then turned and headed for the bathroom.

The thing Ashley had come to realize from what her mother had said was that, sure, you weren't a whole person just because you had another person with you, but it sure as hell made her happier to be with someone than being alone ever had.

"Let's say you're stuck on a desert island," Jason said, "Who would you want to be stuck there with you?"

"Just one other person?" Aime asked.

"Yeah."

"I don't know. Probably nobody. I'd want it to be relaxing."

"You wouldn't want me there?" Jason asked, sounding hurt.

"We've only been going out for a bit. Ask me again in 6 months and see what I say," Aime replied, smirking. Jason turned a corner as they headed to his parents house. He thought about that for a moment. Harold was gone, but he still called it his PARENTS house, as in both of them still owned it. He still, even after all this time, didn't think of his father as 'dead' as much as he thought of him as 'on vacation'. As if he half expected Harold to, one Thursday night, simply waltz back into the home, plop down some suitcases, and sit and play with them as he discussed his latest business trip.

But that wasn't going to happen. Jason knew that full well. He just didn't want to admit it, and as bad as Ernie had been, Jason did hate having the closest thing to his father back in his life being cut right back out of his life, but he knew it was for the best. Ernie had been scum, had been unwilling to change and was ruining all the progress the family had made amongst themselves in the past year. As he turned into the driveway, he noticed Ashleys car was already parked there. He pulled in next to it and sighed.

"Well," he said, "So long as you don't try and eat me on the island, I don't mind if you wanna be stuck with me there."

"I wouldn't eat you. I don't think you'd taste very good," Aime replied.

"Well that's just hurtful," Jason said, as they got out of the car and headed up the walkway to the front door. Upon the swinging bench on the porch they discovered Becca sitting there, and Aime went inside so she could use the restroom as Jason took a seat by his sister. They looked up from their phone and nodded.

"Heyo," Jason said, "What's goin on? You're sitting out here a lot lately."

"Yeah...I...I don't know that I can sit at the island anymore. It's too weird not having dad here," Becca said, "Like, it's where I always sat and we'd always talk before Game Night started and...I don't know. I was out here that night instead of at the island and I kinda feel like I deserve to be out here now."

"You know dad wouldn't blame you for that, right?"

"I know."

"Okay, as long as you know it's just you who's doing that," Jason said, "So, do you know what the game is tonight? I forgot to ask mom before we left."

"It's Pictionary," Becca said.

"Oh god, I've NEVER been good at drawing...this is going to suck," Jason groaned, running his hands over his face as Becca smirked.

"I know. Remember as kids you used to make that comic, Bark Howler, Space Dog?"

"Okay, you need to shut up."

"Who needs to shut up?" Ashley asked, coming out of the house, eating a peach, "What're we talking about?"

"We're making fun of Jasons lack of artistic ability. Remember when we were kids and he drew that Bark Howler, Space Dog comic?" Becca asked, making Ashley crack up and nearly choke on her snack. After she regained her breath, Ashley started pointing at Jason and nearly jumping up and down.

"Goddamn I DO remember that! That was so terrible!"

"I was like 9!" Jason shouted, "Gimme a break!"

"How's a dog gonna man a spaceship, Jason? Honestly?" Becca asked, "I mean, they don't even have hands, they don't have thumbs, they can't grip controls or anything, and they can't hold weapons, so-"

"For your information, Bark Howler had a specially designed weapon on his back attached to a small pack that would fire lasers at any incoming, dangerous targets, okay? And he didn't have to actually pilot the ship because it was designed to recognize his barks and interpret them as directions, alright?! Are we done shitting all over my childhood hero, now?!"

Jason stood up and walked past Ashley as she and Becca continued to crack up. Once inside, he found Anna sitting in a love seat in the living room. He took his coat off and tossed it onto the couch and looked at the coffee table, hands on his hips.

"It appears mom has purchased a new coffee table," Jason said.

"It appears so, yes," Anna said.

"So, lemme ask you something...you ever gonna have this kid, or you just gonna continue to stay pregnant for all the perks?" Jason asked, smirking, making Anna laugh.

"I would love to have this little bastard already, believe me," Anna said, "I am SICK of not being able to cut my own toenails."

Betty then entered the room, carrying everything necessary for Pictionary, and started setting it up. Jason took a seat by Anna on the couch and glanced at the book she was reading.

"Best Baby Names...you still don't have a baby name?" Jason asked, "Sheez, we picked out...our daughters name...like really fast."

"You totally just forgot our daughters name didn't you?" Anna asked.

"Nobody can prove that," Jason said, "I'm just surprised. Usually it's picked out way in advance."

"Yeah, well, life's been kinda hectic lately, not sure if you're aware of that or not," Anna replied as Becca and Ashley came into the house and raced up the stairs, Jason and Anna watching them as they vanished behind the upper level of the house. Jason looked at Anna and shrugged as Aime came back into the living room from the bathroom and sat next to Jason.

"You look SO good, by the way," Aime said, looking across the couch at Anna, who seemed genuinely surprised by this compliment and blushed.

"Well, thank you, that's very kind of you to say," Anna said, "God knows I don't FEEL very good looking, heh."

"Well, you look fantastic. It's amazing how pregnancy makes women even more beautiful," Aime said, "God, I'd love to have my own child some day. I think being a parent would be just the absolute best. You have a daughter, is it great?"

"It's alright I guess," Anna said, shrugging, making Jason laugh as Becca and Ashley came back down, chuckling to themselves and taking their seats as Betty finished setting up the game. She stepped back and held the pen out to anyone.

"Who wants to go first?" she asked, "Oh, I guess we should split up into teams. Alright, Jason and Aime can team up, I'll take Anna and Becca and Ashley can be a team. Does that sound good to everyone?"

"That sounds perfect," Ashley said, finishing her peach and sucking on the pit, "Absolutely."

"Alright, so I set up the damn thing, so I guess we'll take our turn first. I'll go unless you want to, Anna."

"I am not getting up, so feel free," Anna said, making Betty laugh as she drew a card, glanced at it for a few seconds and then started drawing something. Jason squinted, trying hard to discern what his mother was drawing, while Aime chewed on her bottom lip. After about a minute or so of drawing, Jason clapped loudly.

"I got it! Jogging!" he said, and Betty nodded, handing him the pen and taking her seat where he'd just been sitting. Jason stood up and walked to the board, flipped over to a new piece of paper and then picked a card. He winced and started drawing, but after three minutes nobody had any idea what it was he was drawing.

"...I...I have no idea what you're putting out there," Ashley mumbled.

"It's...it's a feeling, it's like, it's not even a thing, it's so hard to draw something that doesn't have a physical form!" Jason said, annoyed, "Like, how am I supposed to convey that sort of thing to someone?!"

"Is it Pity? Cause that's what I'm feeling right now," Becca said, them and Ashley high fiving upon the burn.

"You want me to draw myself kicking your ass? Would that be better?" Jason asked, clearly irritated now.

"Is it...empathy?" Aime asked, and Jason pointed at her victoriously.

"This is why I love you!" he shouted, running back to the couch, handing her the pen and sitting down. Amie got up and took a card, read it and then started drawing. Jason looked at Anna and noticed she was grimacing, putting her hand to her head.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah...just a headache," Anna said, "Don't know why. It's not like I've been sitting in front of rock musicians all day or anything."

"Is it...oh! A tractor!" Ashley said, making Aime seem annoyed as she handed to pen to Ashley as she stood up and walked to the board. Betty was writing something down on a small piece of paper and nodded.

"Okay Ash, so Jason and Aime have two points, and you and Becca have one point now, so if Becca can guess this, you can tie with them," Betty said, and Ashley nodded, picked up a card and started getting giddy. Ashley started drawing, and everyone sort of leaned forward, confused at what they were witnessing. After a few minutes, however, and enough was put up, Becca threw their hand up in the air and shouted.

"Oh, oh! It's a dog!" they said, "It's Bark Howler!"

"GOD DAMMIT!" Jason shouted, standing up and pointing at Ashley, "Stop it! Stop it right now! Erase that beloved starpooch off the board and sit the hell down! How DARE you impune their memory in such a vulgar way!"

"What the hell is Bark Howler?" Anna asked, starting to laugh.

"It's this terrible comic that Jason used to draw as a kid," Ashley said, "Look, look, I even drew his special pack with the laser, Jason! See!"

"This isn't fair! She's a goddamned graphic designer! Of COURSE it's gonna look better than my original work!"

"Well, yeah, but also cause you were like 9," Ashley said, "So."

"Bark Howler deserves to thrive, Jason," Becca shouted, "They deserve to be recognized as the hero that they truly are. The one and only space mutt, defending our lives from the evils of the galaxy. Why do you try and bury your shame?"

"I hate all of you!" Jason shouted, sitting back down while Anna, Becca and Ashley cracked up.

"Alright, well, that's a point to Becca and Ashley," Betty said, "So it's Beccas turn."

Becca got up off the couch, walked past Ashley and took the pen and headed to the board.

"One day I'm gonna become a great cartoonist, and Bark Howler will be a beloved Saturday morning icon, you'll see. You'll ALL see," Jason said, annoyed as Becca chuckled.

"Sure, and I'll be Prom Queen," they said as they picked up a card and started drawing. Jason looked over at Anna, who was shifting positions on the couch and wincing as she sat up a bit.

"You alright? You need something to drink?" Jason asked.

"I'm fine," Anna said, waving her hand.

"Is it..." Betty started, staring at the drawing board, "Ugh....god, is it....it's an action, I can tell that much..."

"Giving birth," Anna said suddenly.

"No, no, dear, it's not that," Betty replied, patting her arm gently.

"No, Betty, I'm giving birth," Anna said, as Jason looked at the couch and noticed where she was sitting was now wet. His eyes widened, realizing she was actually going to give birth.

"Her water broke!" he said, pointing at Anna, "Okay, jesus, uh, Mom, go bring your car around, it's the biggest one, and Aime, help me carry her outside, alright?"

"Okay!" Aime said, quickly jumping up and the two of them each taking an arm, lifting Anna up and starting to help her out the front door. Ashley and Becca sat behind, watching all the commotion, and before they knew it, everyone had left. Becca put the pen down, and then crossed their arms.

"I didn't even GET a real turn," they said, annoyed, before looking at their sister, "Ash?"

"...this is it, it's happening," Ashley said, sounding panicked, "I...oh god...this is real, isn't it? I should be there, shouldn't I?"

"They should allow domestic partners in the delivery room, yes," Becca said, "Just...ya know...relax, breath, try not to freak out, alright? If you want, I'll drive you there, okay?"

Before long, Becca and Ashley were in the car, also headed towards the hospital. Ashley was looking out the window, being uncharacteristically quiet, as Becca drove. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Ashley broke the silence.

"Dad isn't here," Ashley said.

"What?"

"Dad isn't here. I'm gonna be a mom, to my brothers child but whatever, and dad isn't here."

"Well it's not like Jason impregnated you."

"This is veering into creepy territory. I just meant that I'm with his ex wife, and I'm going to be raising his child as my own child, and everything is weird and I don't know that I can do this and dad isn't here. I wish dad was here. I never thought I'd wind up being a parent, but I always hoped he'd be here if I did. I wanna thank him for being such a good parent to me."

"He was a good parent," Becca said, scratching their nose as they turned, a few blocks from the hospital parking lot now, "But I'm sure somehow dad knows."

"Do you believe in the afterlife?"

"I don't know what I believe in anymore, to be quite honest," Becca said, "I just know that no matter what, dad would be proud of you and he'd love that kid no matter whose it was."

Ashley smirked and touched her sisters hair.

"When did you get so smart?" she asked, "God, it feels like just yesterday we were kids and now here we are, having kids."

"That's all life is, really. Reproduction until you perish, hoping that someone will carry your bloodline along," Becca said, "And hey, maybe if this works out, one day YOU can give birth to a child that's really your own, and make a bigger family."

Becca pulled into the parking lot and stopped as Ashley gathered her things. Becca took a piece of paper from a message pad and jotted something down, and slipped it into Ashleys purse while she wasn't looking. Ashley grabbed her purse and her coat and hugged her sister, and then exited the car, leaning in through the rolled down window.

"Are you going to come in?" she asked.

"I...I don't think I can go to a hospital," Becca said, "I didn't go when dad...I just can't be there."

"Okay, but you'll be at home? Cause we're likely coming home later."

"Yeah I'll be home," Becca said, and with that, Ashley headed inside. Becca started up the car and started driving back to the house. Ashley easily found her way to the waiting room where everyone was, and asked if she could be in the delivery room, and much to her surprise, found she could. As she stood by Annas side, holding her hand, she started to feel like this was something she could do. She started to feel like this was something she really wanted to do. Anna looked at Ashley and grimaced.

"Do you have anything to drink?" she asked, and Ashley thought for a second, then shook her head.

"No, but I can go to the vending machine. I'll be right back, alright?" she said, and headed out of the room and down the hall. Once arriving, she started digging through her purse for some change and bills, and instead found a neatly folded piece of paper. She opened it, completely unaware of what it was, and she smiled. Crudely drawn onto the paper was a dog wearing a space helmet, and in a speech bubble coming from its mouth, it said, "You'll be an out of this world mom!"

Ashley felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to find Jason standing there. Their eyes met, and she looked at the paper, and then threw her arms around her brother, confusing him. But Jason just took it in stride, put his hands on her back and patted her, letting her cry, before they got some water and headed back to the delivery room.

Back at the house, Becca was cleaning up the house, and thought about Harold, and what Ashley had said. Would he really be proud of them? Becca had to believe it, because to believe anything else just hurt too much, and really, they had no reason not to think he would be. They finished cleaning, made some tea and a sandwich and headed on upstairs to bed. When Jason called later that night, it was to say that Anna had given birth to a little girl, and that they'd named it Becca.

Becca congratulated Jason, and told him to congratulate everyone else, and then laid down and went to sleep. If Harold was gone, someone had to hold these people together, and it seemed like that was coming down to be Beccas responsibility. When Becca awoke, they got up to get a glass of water and headed downstairs, where they found Ashley passed out on the couch, and the sun being blocked by the shades. Becca figured they must've slept most of the next day, and found Anna asleep in a chair, next to a pearl white rocker. Becca stopped and looked into it, seeing a small sleeping baby girl who now shared their name, and for a second, Becca felt like they themselves might live on as well. Becca got their water, and on the way back, passed by the Pictionary board again and stopped, water glass dead on their lips, as they stared at the picture Ashley had clearly drawn at some point in the night.

It was a caricature of Ashley and Anna, sitting next to a crib, and next to the crib was Becca, all of them smiling, and for the first time in their entire life, Becca felt like they really belonged to a family.

                                                                                 YEARS AGO

"Think of it like this," Harold said, sitting across from Ernie in the cafeteria, "You are no longer a part of this family. I don't care if we're brothers, we were barely ever brothers to begin with and you know damn well that's true so don't even try and deny it. Don't pull the 'family first' bullshit with me, either. Toxicity is toxicity, family notwithstanding. You're a menace and what you did was inexcusable."

"I guess we don't see eye to eye," Ernie said.

"No no no, this is not about whether I like mayo on a sandwich and you like mustard. You beat a person, you literally beat someone almost to death," Harold said, "I can't excuse that, and I won't allow my father to either."

"They lied to me!" Ernie screamed, catching the guards eye. He quickly simmered down and lowered his voice, "They lied to me. They lied right to my face."

"For something that you have no business in as it is, so they didn't lie to you, they protected themselves," Harold said, "...you know...when we used to go to grandpas cabin, we'd go fishing by the lake, remember? You and me, during the summer days, and we'd take our poles and go out there to the lake and we'd go catch fish and I'd always throw them back and you'd take them back home to cook. Understandable, in a sense, as fishing has always been a way for man to feed himself and his family."

"You goin' somewhere with this?" Ernie asked.

"You ever read anything about serial killers? How they started out as children torturing animals, but eventually that stimulation, that sensation, wasn't enough for them and they had to move onto hurting humans? That's what you are. You're like a serial killer. You didn't throw your fish back. You didn't care that they might've had a family just like you did. God knows I'm no vegetarian or anything, but you didn't throw them back, I did. I have a wife, and you beat a woman to near death."

Harold stood up from the table, one hand still placed on it and sighed.

"I never really knew you could be related to people you don't relate to...but I wanted a brother, and that's not what you are at all. You're not a brother Ernie. You're a monster."

And with that, Harold turned and exited the prison cafeteria.

                                                                                             ***

"This is the single most contrived way to catch a mouse that I have ever seen," Becca said as they set up this weeks game, Mouse Trap, on the living room floor. Betty smirked as she helped Becca put the pieces together to build the board out.

"This was one of your fathers favorite games," she said.

"Really?"

"Mhm," Betty said with a slight nod, "He loved how involved it was. Everything else just gave you a board, you know? Some cards, some dice, a trinket to play as, but Mouse Trap...it was something you had to build. It was so inventive, and god he ate it up."

Becca smiled as they watched their mother talk about their father. So rarely did Betty speak this openly, especially since Harolds death, she'd been kind of tight lipped about things, but this was lovely, and they wanted to coax more out of her without seeming pushy or making them uncomfortable.

"Same reason he loved things like Fireball Island," Betty continued.

"Fireball Island?"

"It was another board game that had a whole setup with it, a sort of Indiana Jonesesque adventure game, but it also had a large set piece and everything like Mouse Trap. He felt those board games were few and far between, and he's not wrong. Everything is just that, a board game, but these were in depth games that allowed you to come up with a backstory or whatever you wanted to make of it. They had true character to them."

Betty sat against the recliner on the floor for a second and started to sniffle as Becca crawled over to her and hugged her.

"I miss him so much, Becca," Betty mumbled, crying a little as Becca held their mother and rubbed her back.

"I know mom. We all do," they replied softly.

                                                                                              ***

Jason had his hands on his handlebars, deep in thought as he rode towards his parents house for game night. Amie, sitting behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, leaned forward a bit and rested her head on his shoulder.

"So...how are you feeling tonight?" Amie asked.

"I'm feeling good," Jason said, "I know exactly how I feel and I'm not going to let anyone change that."

"That's my boy," Amie said, patting his shoulders, laughing, "You know, I really appreciate being invited to this repeatedly. Really makes me feel like you want me to be not just a part of your life but a part of your families life too. My family isn't broken up, we just all live too far apart to see one another regularly, so I really like having a new family to hang out with. I miss the warmth that a family can bring to you."

"...yeah," Jason said, smiling, "You're welcome. I'm glad I can bring you into our world like this."

The light turned green and Jason took off down the street. As he pulled up to the house a few minutes later, he noticed a car was sitting in the parking lot. He climbed off the bike and pulled his helmet off, Amie following suit. They both ran their hands through their hair, fixing their hair best they could, as they approached the car and Jason knocked against the window lightly. It rolled down and sitting in the car was Anna and Ashley.

"Evening ladies," Jason said, smiling.

"Heyo," Ashley replied, scribbling something down on a piece of paper.

"Watcha girls doin?" Amie asked.

"We're picking baby names," Ashley said, "How do you guys feel about Cynthia? Or uh...Megan?"

"How about something like Teal?" Amie asked, cutting in, "I always wanted to change my name to Teal when I was growing up."

"She's not going to be a 90s Icelandic pop star," Anna said, "Also, I don't wanna name my daughter after a color. I wanna give her a normal name. Something like..."

"...Priscilla?" Jason asked.

"Do you WANT her to get beaten up?" Anna asked.

"Are you kidding me?" Ashley asked, looking at Anna, "Priscilla is a bonafide bad ass name for a girl! She would smoke in the middle school girls bathroom and she'd wear leather jackets and get in cat fights all the time, obviously winning of course."

"Of course," Jason and Amie said in unison.

"What the hell kind of child do you think we're going to raise?!" Anna asked, half laughing, "She's not some CW tween drama bad girl! And for the record, no child of mine is going to take up smoking until she's in college and can screw up her own life by making her own decisions, thank you very much."

"We're gonna head in," Jason said, taking Amie's hand and walking her up the steps of the porch and into the house. Ashley put the pad of paper down and looked at Anna, exhaling heavily. Anna pushed her bangs out of her eyes and cocked her head to the side, looking puzzled.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I guess I have to talk about it at some point, may as well be now," she said, "Um...I don't...I'm scared. I don't know that I'm going to be a very good mother, and like...I hope you're not expecting a whole lot from me. To be honest, I never really thought about having kids or raising kids, not that I was that against it or anything, it just...I don't know that I'm fit for it."

"Hey, you're going to be a wonderful mother," Anna said, leaning in and kissing Ashley on the cheek before getting out and heading into the house, leaving Ashley to mutter under her breath before getting out and following her.

Sitting in the kitchen at the island was Jason and Becca, Amie at the sink washing an apple, as Jason and Becca ate an orange together. Anna and Ashley walked into the kitchen to this scene and Anna quickly sat down at the island with them.

"You're SO wrong," Becca said to Jason, "Mr. Ed couldn't really talk, see, Wilbur was hallucinating the whole thing because his son had died after falling off the horse, and he couldn't bring himself to put Mr. Ed down because he was the last connection he had to his late son, but then Mr. Ed started being able to talk to him to help him with his grief and move on with his life."

"It was a comedy!" Jason shouted, "There's no dramatic dark backstory! It's a sitcom about a horse and a guy!"

"That's just what THEY want you to think," Becca said, "See, they got to you."

"Who got to me? Who is 'they'?" Jason asked.

"You know, THEM," Anna said, taking a piece of orange from Becca.

"You people are nuts," Jason said.

"They've turned him against us, it's time to take him out," Anna said.

"On it," Ashley said, grabbing Jasons neck from behind, pretending to strangle him as Ernie came in from the garage, and everyone stopped and stood quiet, staring at him.

"What?" he asked, "Don't stop goofin off on my account. Jeez. So are we playin' a game tonight or what?"

"Yeah. We are. You, Becca, Ashley and me," Jason said sternly, "We're gonna play a little game called Mouse Trap."

"How do you know?" Becca asked, furrowing their brow at him.

"Because I suggested it," Jason said, smirking, "Now come on, let's get to the living room. We've got a mouse to catch."

                                                                                          ***

                                                                                  YEARS AGO

Ernie and Jason were sitting at a picnic table in the yard, watching a few guys play basketball in the court beside them. Jason sighed and looked away from them and back to his uncle, as his uncle nodded at him.

"You may wanna unbutton that collar button, lest you wanna get your ass beat," Ernie said.

"That's really a thing they'll beat you up for, huh?" Jason asked, starting to unbutton it.

"These guys take the signals pretty seriously," Ernie said, "...you know, I never thought I was like them. I knew I wasn't like my brother, but I never thought I was like them either. You like to think of yourself as a good person, an accepting person, and then one single moment just takes that fantasy you've built as your reality away from you in a heartbeat."

"Why did you do it?" Jason asked quietly, as Ernie shook his head and scratched the beck of his neck.

"I...I panicked. I've always been a GUY, you know what I mean, Jason? Like, I've always prided myself on being a guy, a mans man, I drink beer, I ride a motorcycle. I mean, I'm not crude, I'm not going to make fun of minorities or anything for the sake of it, that's just cruel, but...but then I met them and...and it just...I guess I wasn't as good a person as I thought I was. I lost it. I thought it made me gay or something, and...and I just, I started hitting them, and-"

"It isn't gay, they're a woman," Jason said, "Just because they weren't born-"

"Jason, just...just stop, I'm trying really hard to work on this. I feel awful, but I don't expect forgiveness. I didn't expect your father to completely cut me off either, but I...I didn't...It wasn't like it was premeditated or anything. I didn't even know until she told me, and before I knew it they were bleeding, and their jaw was..."

Ernie shuddered and wiped his eyes.

"I did a horrible thing...it's taken me a long time to realize that, but...I did. I am extremely sorry for what I did. I want to apologize to her, but I know she'd never talk to me. Besides, it's not like she's related to me. It's different when they're related to you. You feel somewhat responsible for how they turned out, you know what I mean?"

Jason shrugged and started to stand up.

"I have to get going," he said, "I'll come by next week, alright? I'll bring you some cigarettes."

"You're a good person Jason, you don't abandon people simply because of ideological differences. There's so much anger on both sides these days, but you've got a level head on your shoulders," Ernie said, "I respect that."

But Jason 2.0 wasn't the old Jason. The Jason who forgave toxic family members and tried not to get involved. Now it was personal. Now it WAS in his family. Now it was time to catch a mouse.

                                                                                          ***

"This game is bullshit," Ashley said, clearly irritated, "I don't...I don't even LIKE cheese that much!"

"I remember playing this as a kid," Becca said, taking their turn, "Haven't played it, or thought about it, in a long time. I'm glad you recommended it Jason, thanks."

The game had been going for a while now, with both Ernie and Ashley nearing the end of the board, both right under the trap. Everything had worked out to Jasons advantage. Well, okay, he'd have to make his sister take the loss, but she was just a casualty. Jason took his turn as Ernie scratched his mustache.

"I think the only goddamn board game I played as a kid was cribbage, which isn't much of a 'board game' if you wanna get into semantics," Ernie said, "But I mean, it has a board, so."

"Sure," Ashley said, "I'd count that as a board game, why not."

"So Ernie," Jason said, as he watched Ashley take her turn and end up where the cheese was, Ernie taking his turn next and ending up right behind her, "You ever call her?"

"Call who?" Ernie asked, looking up from the board.

"You know, the transwoman you beat the hell out of, the reason you went to prison," Jason said coldly, as he took his turn, played the trap and caught both his uncle and his sister under it; he folded his hands and looked up at Ernie, dead eyes locked, "Did you ever call her and apologize? You said you wanted to. Now you're out, now you have the chance. I mean, you said it wasn't like it was personal, because they weren't part of your family, like your niece here."

Ernie looked at Becca, their eyes wide with shock. Apparently, they had never been told the reason Ernie had gone to prison.

"Wait..." Becca said, "Wait, you...you beat-"

"You're just as bad as your fuckin father," Ernie said, standing up.

"Look at the little mouse," Jason said, standing up as well, fists clenched, "Caught in his own trap, his own words used against him, in front of the 'family' he so claims to care about."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Ashley screamed, surprising everyone as they all glanced at her, "How could you trap me like this?!"

"Sorry, I know you wanted to win, you were just-"

"No!" Ashley continued, "No! Not in the game! I'm trapped, picking names with your ex wife for a child I don't even know if I can raise! You put us in this situation!"

"Not such a good person after all, are we?" Ernie asked, smirking at Jason.

"I'd watch your goddamned back, you may not be in prison anymore, but that won't stop me from shanking you," Jason said coldly, their faces a mere inch apart.

Ashley quickly gathered up her things and ran out of the house, Anna trying to get up to catch her, but Betty going instead. She found Ashley in the driveway, kicking the tires of her car. Betty cleared her throat as Ashley turned and threw her coat on the driveway.

"Sweetheart-"

"Mom, I don't want a goddamned pep speech right now, okay?"

"I was just like you," Betty said.

"...what?"

"I was just like you. When I first found out I was pregnant, I was terrified, even though we were trying to have a family. I wasn't sure I could be a mother though, I...I didn't think I was cut out for it, you know? I was worried and scared and I often fantasized running away but I didn't, because I knew that it was all because change is scary. Do you love Anna?"

"...I do, yeah, of course I do."

"You never said you didn't want children."

"I never said I DID either! I can't...I just can't, not right now, I have to go. She...she can stay here tonight, in my old room, I just can't," Ashley said, grabbing her jacket off the ground, opening the car door and climbing into the car. As she started it up and pulled out the driveway, Betty chased after the car into the road, but Ashley was gone into the darkness quickly. Betty sighed and stood there, hearing shouting from the house. She put her hands around her mouth and screamed. What. was becoming. of her. family.

Meanwhile, back in the house, Becca, Jason and Ernie were still going at it.

"How could you do that?!" Becca screamed, "I want you out of this goddamned house!"

"It ain't your house, sweetheart," Ernie said, "You don't get to decide whether I stay or go, alright?"

"You're a liar, you're an asshole, you're a bigot, and you're not allowed around my goddamned sister," Jason said, fuming at him. Aime was beaming, watching this man she believed in stand up for what was right, and she looked at Anna, their eyes catching for a moment. Finally, Amie understood why Anna had loved Jason to begin with, because he was a good person deep down, and now more so on the surface.

"This is my brothers house, and I-"

"Get. OUT," Betty snarled from the front door, catching everyone off guard, "Get OUT of my HOUSE!"

Ernie started to back up, pulling his jacket on as Betty approached him.

"Now, calm down, okay, your son is the one starting all this, dragging up the past and shit," Ernie said, stammering, "This...this has nothing to do with you or-"

"This has EVERYTHING to do with ME," Betty said, her voice rising with every word, "You come into MY home. You disrupt MY family. You ruin MY game night. I worked HARD to make this family love one another, and they're welcome here, this is THEIR home, YOU are not."

"Bets, alright, just calm down, let's have a drink and discuss this, okay? I am different, I have changed, I DO want to apologize to that girl, because-"

"No. You don't get to make amends. You chose your route in life. You CHOSE to go down this path. You don't get to change. You don't get to be like Jason. You don't actually recognize how bad a person you are, you're just trying to make everyone THINK you wanna change so we'll feel bad for you while you continue to bring down everyone around you with your awful beliefs and behaviors!"

"Betty-" Ernie said, backing up against the coffee table, everyone else moving out of the way.

"This is a FAMILY game night, and you are NOT a part of this FAMILY!" Betty shouted, bringing her arm back and socking Ernie in the jaw so hard that he stumbled and fell right ontop of the coffee table, bringing it to the ground. Betty shook her hand, clenching her teeth as she muttered, "Now get the FUCK out of my house!"

And with that, Jason helped Ernie up and carried him to the front door. Ernies nose was bleeding, as he wiped it on his sleeve, he looked at his nephew.

"Jason," Ernie said, stammering, "Jason, I don't have anywhere to go, okay, I wanted to be with my brothers kids, okay, I just-"

"I'm sorry," Jason said softly, "But this is a 5 player game, we don't need a 6th."

And he threw Ernie onto the porch and slammed the door behind him.

                                                                                           ***

Sitting in Ashleys old bedroom that night, Anna was going through some photo albums when the door opened and Ashley came in. She kept her eyes glued to the floor, playing with her ponytail as she stood in the doorframe.

"Do you wanna come in?" Anna asked, "I mean, it's YOUR room, so."

"I...I want to apologize," Ashley said, coming in, shutting the door and sitting down next to her, "Um...I...I am so sorry. I shouldn't have freaked out. My mother was right, this isn't about whether I wanted kids or didn't, because frankly, a woman doesn't have to have children, there's nothing wrong with that, it just wasn't something I ever gave much thought to. But...but with you...it's different. It's hard to explain, like...growing up I always had this image in my head of being with a woman in our own home and...everything was great and..."

"Ashley, you don't have to try and explain anything to me," Anna said, "I understand, change is terrifying, and we've been through a LOT of it lately. Your father dying, me leaving your brother, there's been a lot of change and all within a short period of time, so I-"

"I love you, let's get married," Ashley said, taking Anna by surprise.

"Excuse me?" Anna replied, half laughing, "What? I JUST got divorced."

"I know, so let's get married, right now, we'll go out and we'll get married and then later we'll have a nice ceremony with everyone there but let's just go do it right now," Ashley said, "The longer I try not to embrace change, the more change is going to come, and soon enough I'm going to be left completely behind. I love you."

"I don't want to get married, not right this minute, all I want is to lay here with you and look at these photos of you as a cute kid," Anna said, "Maybe we'll do that tomorrow."

Ashley smiled and kissed Annas cheek and they laid down together on the bed, looking through the photo album. Meanwhile, down in the kitchen, Becca was sitting at the island drinking some coffee while Aime was talking to Betty in the living room, helping her clean up the mess from Ernie while Jason came into the kitchen and saw his sister sitting alone. He sat down at the island across from them and sighed.

"So, I know that-"

"You are the best brother," Becca said, cutting him off, "I am so sorry about anything I've said to you that was mean lately, because you just stood up for me in a way nobody else ever has, and that...that meant so much to me. I told mom from day 1 that guy was bad news, and nobody listened to me. What made you change your mind?"

"Well, you've been here for the last 20 years and he hasn't, who am I going to feel more loyal to?" Jason said, smiling, "Besides, I saw a lot of old Jason in Ernie, and it disgusted me the person I could've become. But unlike Ernie, I actually am putting in the effort to change, I'm just crying foul and saying my hate speech disguised as free speech is being squashed."

"I love you, Jason," Becca said, the first time they've told their brother that in years, "I really do love you."

"I love you too," Jason said, "Now come on, let's go help mom clean up."

The two got up and started to head out of the kitchen.

"So," Jason asked, "What's the deal with Francis The Talking Mule then?"

"Francis was CLEARLY an agent of satan," Becca said.

"You don't say?"