The Last Generation

   Generation nine is officially over! I know, your heart is breaking while you're reading this. Mine did, as well... I started generation one of this legacy in March, 2013, now it's almost January, 2015 and generation ten is about to begin. Since I am about to start the last generation, I have decided to do something a bit different! Drumroll please.... *dramatic snare drum noise* I'll be adding side chapters called Bits of Boring. This doesn't effect the main legacy any, I just thought you should know. The Bits of Boring, despite being named boring will actually be rather entertaining and funsies. Funsies? Funsies. People should use the word funsies more. (I understand that this makes me sound like a preteen, I'm not, I'm also okay with that.)
The heir vote will be up shortly.

-M

9.13: ...Life Ends for Someone

    "Can you believe it?" Xavier whispered into my ear. "Remy, Felix, Chester are at auntie Delilah's and cousin Anderson's for the whole weekend. My parents are at someone's retirement party." Since there was such a large age gap in between Delilah and Isadora and Christopher, we decided against telling the children to call her grandma and decided on auntie instead. It seemed a bit awkward calling Anderson uncle, since we were calling Delilah auntie, so he was dubbed cousin. 
   "We have the house to ourselves." I replied, glancing up from my painting. In between the three toddlers, Felix was five, Chester was two, and our youngest and only girl Remy was one, and our thriving business we barely got time to ourselves.
   "You know what that means?" He asked, placing his hands on my shoulders, beginning to massage me.
   "Ooh, what?" I knew the answer, but I wanted him to say it. I needed to hear him say it.
   "We can," his voice lowered, becoming huskier, "watch a rated R movie on Netflix. There can be violence or cursing or nudity- there's no one here to overhear it."
   "You had me at Netflix."
   "You know what else we can do?"
   "This?" I replied, turning around, kissing him tenderly. "We've never tried doing it outside." In truth, we hadn't done it since our wedding anniversary, four months ago. "Imagine the scandal."
   "You had me at doing it." 

   "God I love you." I laughed, as we began kissing again.

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   "Oh fuu- fruitcake!" I exclaimed, gripping my stomach.
   "Phoebe?" I heard Xavier yell. "Are you in labor?" I wanted to laugh, but the contractions were too painful; this was our third child, he was very familiar with the signs of labor. Seconds passed, then he was by my side, helping me waddle to the car, to the hospital.
   After a very drugged up, four and a half hour labor, Hadley made her debut. Our fourth bundle of joy; our first unplanned one. To quote what Isadora told us when we announced my pregnancy: "Gosh, someone's a fertile Myrtle. Ya leave 'em alone for a weekend and suddenly there's gonna be a baby." When Xavier and I began sputtering, trying to think of a defense, she simply rolled her eyes and replied: "I can count. You said you were three months along, three months ago Christopher and I were out of town the children were at their auntie's." She may be a seventy-eight year old, but she had lovable audacity.

_________________

   "Can you believe that we have four children?" I asked Xavier.
   "Yes... No..." I mean, when there's someone crying at two am, I can, but other times, it feels peculiar. Like now, when we're alone together, it's hard to believe. I feel like I should pinch myself, I'm so grateful. I have a gorgeous wife, four healthy children, we're a bit more than just financially stable, I'm forty-five and haven't started graying... I love you, Pho."
   "I love you, too." 
   "Do you think they'll like it?" He turned to look at the nursery we'd finished setting up for a young couple who were expecting twins.
   "I hope so. I wish I could tell them everything we learned."
   "So do I, unfortunately, there are some things as a parent you just have to learn as you go."
   "Potty training tips." I replied. Hadley was only three months old, so we were still in the sleep, scream, eat, defecate, urinate all day stage, but Remy, who was fifteen months, had refused to wear her diaper anymore, therefore we were potty training her; before we knew it, we'd be potty training Hadley, as well. "Are we done?"
   "Potty training? Sadly, no."
   "I mean having children." I expected him to be shocked at my suggestion, neither one of us ever pictured having a large family, yet now that we did, we both loved it and couldn't imagine not.
   "I don't know. Do you want another child?"
   "I'm unsure. I love being a mother, I wouldn't want to have more than five children, though, so if we did have another, he or she would be our last; the tubes would be tied, afterwards. Also, I don't want to push my luck. What if the fifth baby's lungs don't develop properly or she or he has autism or they're blind, deaf, or both? Or I miscarriage? Or they end up depressed and hating me cause they're the youngest? Or I have twins or triplets or quads and I hate myself because I said I only wanted one more?"
   "You're not even pregnant, yet you're worrying about possible complications. Honey, relax."
   "What about you?"
   "I could see myself as being daddy to five." He simply said, shrugging.
   "Could we talk to an OB/GYN? Or a fertility specialist or someone? Just to know what the risks were if I were to become pregnant?"
   "Yes." He said, taking my hands, kissing my forehead.

________________

   "Eighty years." 

   "Xavier, what can I say?" I felt helpless. I'd lost my parents at such a young age, but I had no idea what to say to someone who had a much stronger emotional bond to their father. "Please, I want you to be okay."

   "I'll make it through, Pho."

   "I know you will. You're strong."

   "Do you know what mom told me?"

   "No." I shook my head. 

   "She wants to move into a nursing home. She said that she's getting older, that she doesn't want to saddle us with the responsibility of caring for her, especially since we have five children under the age of ten."

   "What did you say?"

   "Nothing. She's headstrong, she'll do what she wishes, I cannot change her mind."

   "I'm sorry." I hugged him, wish the hug would take away the grief. His father had been diagnosed with a very rare type of cancer a few weeks ago, the oncologist stated that he had less than a year left, none of us knew that in reality he had less than a month. "Time will heal the wounds. It might take weeks, months, but one day you'll wake up, you'll hug the children, you'll realize it'll be okay."

   "I don't want to go throuh that. I don't want to waste time mourning. I want to go home, hug the children now."

   "Xavier... It was rare, you won't-"

   "I'm not worried about myself. I know that there's a very, very, very slim chance of me getting it, since it isn't genetic. I just feel like he'd want me to not wallow in pain, he'd want me to realize that this meant I shouldn't take things for granted, take time for granted."

   "If you think that's best."

   "I do."

   "I love you. Hadley, Ryelynn, Remy, Felix, Chester, they love you. Isadora loves you. Delilah and Anderson love you. He does, too; we all do."

   In times of tragedy, there are always two main responses: emotionally breakdown or stay strong. You don't necessarily decide how you respond, however you do decide who surrounds you during difficult times and that almost matters more than your response. If you have people loving you, people supporting you, you can make it through almost anything- no, anything. You can make it through anything if you have the right type of people surrounding you; it took me a long time to realize it, it can be a difficult lesson to learn, but the lesson's true.

9.12: When Life Begins for Someone...

   "Do you Phoebe Janes take Xavier Tenant to be your lawful wedded husband?"
   "I do!"
   "Will you love, respect and honor him throughout your years together?"
   "Of course I will." I beamed, looking at him.
   "Do you promise to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him, for so long as you both shall live?"

   "I do."

   "Please place the ring on his finger." I slide the golden wedding band onto his left hand ring finger, as my heart beat faster. 

   "And do you, Xavier Tenant," the judge asked the redheaded man who was seconds away from being my husband, "take Phoebe Janes to be your lawful wedded wife?"

   "Indeed." He smiled, not using the conventional 'I do'.

   "Will you love, respect, and honor her throughout your years together?"

   "I defiantly will."

   "Do you promise to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?"

   "I do."

   "Please place the ring onto her finger." He slide the golden wedding ring onto my finger, as I looked from, from my left hand, then up, into his eyes. I couldn't believe how lucky I was; I loved him an insanely large amount and he loved me. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

   He gently placed his hands around my waist, leaning forward, kissing me. They say the world stops when you kiss the person you love and for me it did; our four guests (we'd wanted an intimate wedding): Delilah, who had dyed her hair- I still didn't know her natural hair color- platinum, almost white, blonde in honor of the wedding was wiping away the tears, Anderson was sitting straight up, looking rather dapper in his suit, Isadora and Christopher, who were holding hands, all disappeared. It was just Xavier and me, and I cherished the moment.

________________

   "We have an announcement!" Isadora exclaimed. Xavier, Delilah, Anderson, and I had all flown out- we'd decided that with the four of us, a rode trip wasn't the best plan- to Denver for Christmas, or Yule, in Delilah's case.

   "That's funny." Xavier said, taking my hand, looking at me for confirmation. "Phoebe and I so, as well."

   "What's your's?" I curiously asked my in-laws.

   "We  bought a house in the LA suburbs, so we could be closer to our grandbabies!" There was an awkward pause as everyone looked from her, to Xavier and I, then back again. We didn't have any children, nor did we announce that I was three months pregnant.

  "How- How did you know?" I asked.

   "Wait! You're pregnant?!" Delilah exclaimed, her eyes looking like they were about to bulge out of their sockets. "Xavier Janes did you knock up my little-"

   "Calm down, Delilah." He smiled, placing a hand of my bloated abdomen. "The little guy or girl won't be here for another six months, in the summer."

   "How did you know?" I asked again, looking accusingly at Xavier. "Did you tell them?"

   "Of course not, honey." He kissed my cheek. "Please, tell us. How?"

  "You've been married three years, your thirty-eight, Phoebe's twenty-eight, it makes sense that eventually I'd be a grandmother."
   "Wait, I'm gonna be an uncle?" Anderson, who finally looked up from his iPod Xavier and I'd given him for the holidays, asked, smiling. I nodded, happy we could finally share the joyous news.
   Anderson was doing well; Delilah had official adopted him, she was the only mother he'd ever known. It wasn't too odd to people, she was a thirty-nine year old art teacher, Anderson was an adorable thirteen year old who had an obsession with marine biology. When Xavier and I tied the knot, I'd been hesitant to move out, into his apartment, but Delilah assured me everything would be fine. Despite having no interest in having biological children, she was an excellent parent. 

________________

   "Guess wha, dada!" 
   "What, Felix?" He asked, holding our gurgling two year old.
   "Me and mama gots you a birfday pwesent!"
   "You did?" He gasped, tickling him. "Whatdya get?" He looked towards me, his eyes wide.
   "Go on." I encouraged him, while sitting on the checkered cloth. "Tell daddy." It was Xavier's fortieth birthday today, he'd had a larger party with all our friends over the weekend, today we were celebrating by having a picnic in the park, with just him, Felix, and myself.
   "I gonna be a big brother!" He giggled, clapping his hands together.
   "You're- Phoebe!" He gasped, his eyes lighting up, as he gently placed the toddler onto the grass. He sat down, leaned over, and whispered to the growing fetus: "I can't wait to meet you."

________________

   "Move in with us. Please." Christopher said, as I held Felix. 
   "You're seven months along. You live in a two bedroom apartment, you already have a toddler; you need more space. We have four bedrooms, your apartments tiny compared to that."
   "We couldn't." I said into my cell phone, placing the toddler on top of the changing table. My first pregnancy had been relatively smooth, if you excluded the twenty-five hour labor, however this one had been a lot more challenging and the doctor's had ordered me to stay off my feet as much as possible. Xavier went to our  interior design firm's office and managed everything, while I stayed home playing make believe, reading picture books, and backseat managing the business. "You've already been so kind, helping take care of Felix, refurnishing the apartment-"
   "I can convince her!" I heard Isadora take the phone from her husband. "Honey, don't let pride get in the way. I'm seventy-five, I'm not gonna live forever, I wanna see my grandchildren as much as possible."
   "I'll talk with Xavier..." I knew that she wouldn't take no for an answer, but she'd accept maybe. I could hardly believe how lucky I was, to have such caring in-laws who, despite occasionally being overly persistent, were engaged in our lives.

It's New Year's Eve!

   New Year's Eve... Gahh... Haha, sorry, I'm still trying to process it. Guys, in thirteen hours (for me) 2015 is going to be here! This year has been insane, this legacy, school, a whirlwind of emotions and I'm still sure that two months ago I was celebrating the transition from 2013 to 2014... Years are going by quicker, which makes me feel old. Can you believe in March this legacy will be going on two years? That's insanity! I'm going to avoid being sentimental, I just wanted you to know that I love each and everyone of my readers and I hope you're healthy, happy, and have a wonderful 2015.

xo,
M

P.S. I took some photos in game of a sims I created to test the new CC I downloaded, hope you enjoy.

The First Bit of Boring: Kirby

I was feeling rather bored, so I decided to type some nonsense and publish it. I apologize for the lack of pictures, but, as I stated, this isn't an actual chapter... Think of it as fanfic... For my own legacy. *Sighs* Perhaps that doesn't sound as pathetic to you as it sounds it my head? 
This BoB (Bit of Boring, what I'm calling the posts) will focus on Kirby, from generation one, who worked with Alyce Janes and was her friend, until she decided to jet off to Paris with her new found lesbian lover. This is set about a week after Kirby left for France, she's with her girlfriend in the small cottage in the suburbs of Paris that they already paid six months more of rent for.
If you need a refresher, I'd suggest reading posts 1.2 and 1.3 and 1.4, then coming back and reading this.


"We really should explore parts of the cottage, other than the bedroom..." She mused, standing up, slipping on a flimsy, satin robe.
"I know..." I paused, looking at her as she stared into the mirror, examing the apparent blemish on her chin.
"You sound off." She didn't turn to look at me, instead she glided over to the dresser, picking up the pink, plastic makeup bag and grabbing a tube of dark foundation out of it. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I forced a smile, shivering slightly. The air was chilly against my bare skin.
"I know you better than that." She turned away from her blemish resolving towards me. She sat next to me, taking my hand. "C'mon, Kirb."
"I left a few, well one friend, back in Bridgeport. She seemed upset, yet I was so excited about moving I just babbled on... I've been thinking about it, she's nineteen, I don't know much about her, but her life seems to have been hard. Maybe I shouldn't have left her."
"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'm sure she'll find someone else."
"She's kinda quiet and apologizes too much; I doubt it."
"Have faith."
"Ha! You know I have trouble with that."
"You had faith in us." She kissed my collarbone, batting her eyelashes. We'd met at the Irish pub I took Alyce to when I first met her; she was the bartender who served us. We'd chatted, I was spilling my woes of how I'd yet to be promoted and my love life was nonexistent over a glass of scotch. She confessed that she didn't picture being a bartender at some pub, she wanted to move to Bridgeport, catch the eye of some big shot news company and become their anchor.
"I took a risk and it seems to have payed off." I chuckled, kissing her. When we pulled away from each other I added: "Alyce doesn't seem to be the risk taking type, though. She was crushing on this guy and she was suppose to go to his party. She was is a cruddy mood when I left her, maybe..." She slipped off her robe, raising an eyebrow, as we collapsed onto the mattress together. "Maybe she went?"
"Dammit, Kirb! I'm trying to get it on with you, and here you're rambling about some teenager."
"She was the one I took to the bar, remeber her? She isn't some teenager, she's that teenager and I'm worried about her. We're friends... Or, were. I don't know anymore."
"Look," she stood up, turning to face me, "I'm going to get dressed and go explore the city. When I come back, please make sure your I-Miss-Alyce fest is over."
"You could sympathize with me a bit! I know you were excited for the trip, but we can't pretend that our lives in New York don't exist anymore, okay? I think I love you and if you love me, you'll understand. I'm worried, but that doesn't take away from this."
"Doesn't it, though? We can't even have sex because of that girl. Isn't she meddling with our relationship? Or is it you? I knew you'd never be able to pick up and leave. You were so excited when I told you the idea, you jumped on bored, rush to go take a sabbatical, tell everyone, now what? We're here and you're-"
"Stop!" I screamed. "You're acting self centered, blowing nothing into something huge."
"I do that. I thought I knew you, maybe I do, but I know you don't know me."
"I don't know all of you, but I know enough to know I want to spend six glorious months with you in a country that's language I don't even speak."
"We could have gone to England! Or Australia, but no Paris is romantic. You wanted romace, well fine, guess it is a language you don't speak."
"That makes no sense."
"Neither does this relationship, apparently. Maybe it only does when you're tipsy and I'm horny or bored."
"Take that back!"
"I would if it wasn't true. We met at a bar, you always had an alcoholic beverage in hand, I hated my job, so I was bored and you were attractive. These are F to the A to the C-T-S."
"Just go."
"I will." She stormed out, as I shrieked out in rage, punching a pillow. I thought we had something, but apparently not. I wanted to cry or yell- I didn't know which. Anger or Sadness? Regardless, I didn't want to have to deal with the aftermath of our first fight.

9.11: Meet the Parents

   "You know, we're eventually going to have to pick a destination." I said, glancing over at Xavier, who was driving.
   "I know..."
   "I wish it wasn't true. I wish I could run away from all my responsibilities and travel the world with you."
   "Yeah." He let out a chuckle. "Welcome to adulthood, Pho." After we left the consignment store, we traveled back to Xavier's apartment, grabbed some cash, a few granola bars, water bottles, personal hygiene products, a blanket, and two changes of clothes, I'd split my wardrobe in between Delilah's home and his, for each of us. We'd been driving almost fourteen hours, stopping at shops that appeared to be quirky or promising, gas stations when the car needed to be refueled, or we needed a restroom break. So far we'd bought a piggybank covered in cupcakes, had sex in a national forest, and stumbled upon a crime scene where cops were busting two convenience store owners for selling meth.
   "Are you tired?" I asked, noticing that he was stifling a yawn. "We can switch; you've driven the past two hundred miles."
   "Sure... Provided you're willing to let me give you directions; I think I know a place we could visit."
   "Ooh, where?" I asked curiously, as he pulled over to the side of the rode so we could switch spots.
   "You'll see." He murmured, as he leaned forward, kissing me.

________________

   "We're here!" Xavier exclaimed, pointing towards large homely looking house. The flowers, the matching shutters- everything screamed stereotypical, middle class, American family.
   "Whose home is this?"
   "Pho, do you remember where I said my rode trips always end?" He asked, looking at me with hope. Hope that I wouldn't get angry? Or was it a different kind of hope?
   "Your... Your parents?"
   "I thought... Well, you've never met them, so... It's a surprise for them, too."
   "This is wonderful!" I smiled, kissing his cheek. "You've met my family, Delilah, Anderson, maybe it is time for me to meet yours."
   "I'm glad you think that." We opened the car's door, stepping outside. He took my hand, as we began walking towards the cheerily painted front door. I took a deep breath, as Xavier knocked on the door. I'd never had a relationship serious enough to warrant meeting the parents; this was a huge deal to me.

   "Hello!" A graying woman, who'd thrown open the front door, exclaimed. "Xavier, dear?"
   "Hi, mom. I thought I'd surprise you and dad with a visit. Is that alright? I'm sorry for not calling ahead-"
   "Oh, nonsense, nonsense. I'm just happy to see you. Once a year was never enough. Now, why don't you two come inside, introduce Christopher and me to your friend." She ushered us inside, to the living room, telling us to sit, she'd bring us tea or coffee.
   "Christopher! Come say hi to our visitors." She called, from the kitchen.
   "Your mother seems nice." I smiled.
   "She is. She can be a tad smothering at times, but it's all meant with lovingness."
   "I wish my mother was like that..." I quietly said, glancing down at my hands. He knew that my family dynamics didn't match up with the norm; it was odd to me just to have a mother who accepted you, lovingly, into her home, no questions asked.

   "Hello." A gray, slightly chubby man said, smiling, as he stuck out his hand for Xavier to shake. He stood up, shook his father's hand, then they hugged. "Good to see you, son."
   "Good to see you, dad. How's the office been?"
   "They're managing without me." He chuckled. "Can you believe I've been retired three years, now? I still drop by occasionally, see how things are going. It's funny, when I'm there, I'm the boss, not that yuppie kid."
   "Good, good. Now that we're all here, let's pour some tea and begin the introductions." Ms. Tenant said, as Mr. Tenant took the tray from her, passing out the mugs.
   "Cream and sugar?"
   "No thank you, sir." I smiled, taking a sip of the tea. Lingering traces of vanilla and cinnamon enlightened my taste buds; I'd never been one to drink tea, but this was delicious.
   "Sir? Please, call me Christopher- not Chris- doll."
   "Alright, si- Christopher."
   "Now Xavier, please introduce us to your rather pretty, polite friend." His mother said, sitting down upon the cozy furniture.
   "Thank you." I beamed. His parents were so wonderful; was this how most parents acted?
   "This is Phoebe Janes, she's my..." he paused, I could tell he didn't know what to call me. We hadn't bothered discussing his proposal any; we where so caught up in escaping our responsibilities in LA.
   "I'm his fiancee." I looked at him for a moment, as he sat in shock, his mouth hanging open.
   "Y-yeah. Fiancee." He nodded, sipping his tea.
   "Oh my goodness! Well welcome to the family, dearie."
   "Thank you, Ms. Tenant."
   "Oh, honey, if you're going to be my daughter, call me Isadora, or mom."
   "Alright, Isadora."
   "Now, tell us about yourself." Christopher said.

   "Well, I use to live in Isla Paradiso, in the Virgin Islands." I began telling them my history.

________________

   "Is that okay?" I asked, standing at the foot of Xavier's bed. Isadora and Christopher had insisted that we stay at their home. even though we offered to go to a hotel; we arrived with no warning, it wasn't fair to force them to offer us lodging. Even though we'd announced our engagement, his parents still separated us.
   "That you agreed to be my fiancee? to marry me? Are you insane; of course it is!" He moved off the bed, hugging me. "I love you, Phoebe."
   "I love you, too, Xavier. Just... One thing. Is it alright if I don't change my last name? It's... My parents, they died; it's the only connection I have left... Other then Anderson."
   "Can I change my last name?"
   "Pardon?"
   "To Janes? Phoebe, if your last name means that much to you, I, I want to share it with you, is that alright?"
   "Of course!" I exclaimed, kissing him. "Phoebe and Xavier Janes... It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
   "God, you don't know how bad I want to..."
   "We could..." I said, running my fingers through his hair.
   "We're at my parents house."
   "True." I sighed. "Perhaps... Perhaps tomorrow, we could somewhere, celebrate the engagement?"
   "I cannot wait." And with that, I left his room, anxious for tomorrow to arrive.

NOTE: Christopher is actually a sim (that you can download HERE) designed by the lovely SeriphinaFyie, that I've altered slightly.

9.10 Part Two: I Love You

   "Xavier, what is this?" I laughed, looking at the outdated consignment store. He'd promised that something special was going to happen tonight, yet the storefront appeared to be the epitome of aged normality. 

   "Just, c'mon. You'll see." He smiled, taking my hand as we walked up to the enterance. 

   "Alright." I smiled, giving him a peck on his cheek, trusting him. He said tonight would be special; I'm sure it would be.

   As we stepped inside, I glanced around at the paintings, relics, vintage hat boxes, dried flowers, books, loving the history the place contained. "This place use to be the place to be. Artists would come here with paintings, sculptures, anything really, try and sell them or put them on display so art dealers and quaint museum curators would see them." He took my hand and led me to the far wall.

   "This painting is more recent." I observed, looking at the mixed media swirls of oranges and faint pinks, outlining hte question mark. "Very stylistic."

   "It's named Will."

   "Who's the painter?"

   "X. T."

   "I haven't heard of her or him before, though the work is very unique; I appreciate it."

   "I'm glad." He beamed, leading me to the next painting. Chaotic striped of blues, teals, and magentas covered the canvas, a sloppily drawn berry red heart covering the feathered face of someone wil blonde hair and mint eyes. "Entitled You, same artist."

   "Ah." Will, You. The collection was intriguing; it either bordered on utterly ameatuer, almost horrible, or was genius, showing a side of unattainable perfection, created by someone who was too apt to experiencing violent, extreme emotions. 

   The next painting was cheerier, an upside down landscape with a golden ring and two hearts. Perhaps the upside sky and grass represented how, when the two hearts collided, the artist's world was turned upside down. 

   "Marry, by X. T."

   "Will, You, Marry-" I paused, stealing a glance at the next painting. There was, against a black and white backdrop, a face, with a childish resemblance to Xavier. "Is that named Me? By X. T., Xavier Tentant."

   "Yes." He blushed, slowly lowering himself down, onto one knee. "Phoebe, ever since I met you, I knew you were special. You'd gone through so much at such a young age, you were worldly and naive, cautious and careless, you were a shining, gorgeous, mess and I knew that I had to get to know you better. Now that I have, I've realized something... I don't ever want to be without you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?"

   "Marry..." I took a deep breath, looking down at the ring. I loved him so much, I wanted to jump up and down, exclaiming yes, yes, yes! Yet he didn't know I'd just met with Asher, who I use to sleep with. A sudden wave of guilt washed over me, as I urged it to go away. I loved Xavier. I want to marry him. Our love made me happy, it felt good, but we didn't have tear off each others clothes and ravage each other on the floor chemistry. Then again, I knew I had no interest in actually dating Asher or anyone like him. Why did he have to come to LA? I was happy, now I was filling with self doubt and guilt.

   "Phoebe?" He looked into my eyes with such hope, as I tried to avoid breaking down into tears. "Do you..."

   "I love you." I simply said. My words weighed heavily in the air, as he waited for a yes or a no. He slowly closed the ring box, realising that I was going to follow with a but, slipped the box back into his pocket, and stood up. 

   "What, why, Phoebe?"

   "I met with a friend today."

   "I know."

   "And... I use to sleep with him." He inhaled sharply; we both knew that neither one of us were virgins, yet the people who we use to intertwine were no longer in our lives, they posed no threats. "And he told me that he still has feelings for me."

   "Do... Do you?"

   "No, Xavier! I said I love you and it is true, I love you, and only you."

   "I love you. Just tell me, am I rushing ahead?"

   "No, you aren't! I do want to marry you, I don't know when, but I do."

   "You hesitated. Pho, if you feel the tiniest bit of hesitation, if you have the smallest lingering feelings about another man, maybe-"

   "Don't!" I gasped, tears welling up in my eyes. He couldn't be doing this; he was just on one knee proposing, know he was leading into a spiel that was bound to end with we need to talk, a phrase that meant one perilous doom was ahead.

   "I wasn't going to break up with you- I could never do that- maybe, though, we need to take some time, evaluate where were this this is going. We can't live in blissful ignorance forever, we have a business together, you practically live with me, eventually we'll either make it final or we won't."

   "I want to make it final!"

   "So do I, but... What if you're going to regret marrying a man a decade older than you? Your youth was stolen by tragedy, perhaps you... I don't know. I love you. I want you and only you Pho."

   "I only hesitated because I was thinking. Xavier, that man and I, there was no emotional connection. It was sex, just sex. I never felt anything but lust for him, I feel so much more for you. I don't know what else I can say without sounding like a broken record."

   "Let's escape."

   "Pardon?"

   "We're stressed, emotional, and I just want to get away. You said you've never been on a road trip; I can take you on one." He had to delirious. He was the responsible, level headed one, who knew what a 401k was, who shopped at organic grocer's. I was a homebody who joked about taking the first flight to Paris to see a new art exhibit. I thought sweatpants and Netflix were an acceptable social activity.

   "Alright." I said, smiling, ignoring the consequences. "Were to?"

   "Anywhere. As long as I'm with you." 

9.10 Part One: Old Flames

   "Thanks for meeting me." Asher smiled, as I glanced down at my hands. We hadn't seen each other in four years, nor had we left on the best terms.

   "No problem." I smiled. "Do you want to get lunch or…" I trailed off, not sure what else we could do. Xavier's words kept running through my head: I have a big surprise planned, Pho. When he said the words, his eyes shone and he winked. Now I was out with my ex-study buddy with benefits. 

   I couldn't help but feel guilty; I had admitted to Delilah that I'd had a casual hookup guy at college, but I never told her his name. Or that he had quit college to go to the military and the night before he had to leave for the training facility, he asked me if I would ever consider a real relationship, because he didn't want to have to go into combat not knowing if our nights together had actually meant something or not. He was a kind, generous man, but I didn't like him in a romantic way; it was simply list and I knew that if I gave him the smallest glimmer of hope, I might crush him later on when I turned him down, or worse- when the relationship failed miserably.

   "I was thinking the beach; it has been a rather long time since I've seen you in a bikini and we never put the beach or water on our list." He said light heartedly, glancing down at my flimsy summer dress. 

   "I-I, um..." I gulped, thinking of the list of places where we'd been horny in college.

   "I'm joking."

   "Good, because I don't have a swimsuit. So lunch? I know a good diner; its local and everyone's weirdly friendly."

   "Oh, no." He shook his head, smiling. "I was joking about the list, the swimming I'm serious about. I mean, we can do whatever you want, though."

   "Do you want to swim?" I hadn't seen him in so long; we were so comfortable together than, now I just felt awkward.

   "If you want." 

   "Sure. The beach is a short jaunt from here."

   "Do you need to get a swimsuit?

   "My apartment's like forty five minutes from here in this traffic, it isn't worth it." I shrugged. I agreed to go swimming now; I couldn't back out and I didn't want to risk going back to the apartment and seeing Xavier. He probably wouldn't care, he trusted me, I had no reason to feel guilty or embarrassed, yet I did. "I've got my bra and panties, as long as you swear to not stare."

   "Stare?" He chuckled. "Phoebe, compared to the other things we've done, I think that's the least of your worries."

   "Asher, I know what we've done in the past, but... Part of me wants to stay a college kid, the other part is telling me that I'm twenty-five and need to get my life in order. I barely am alright with being in a bra I front of you, please just... I'm different then what you think. I, not a wild, crazy party girl; that's what I loved about our thing. I didn't know you, so I didn't feel bad that we were using each other, and you didn't know me, so I could try weird stuff or be alright with lying down on the bar and you doing shots from my belly button. With friends, I'm quieter. I don't party, I don't hit up the gym, or yuppie grocery stores, cafes, or boutiques. I'm your standard, studious, artistic, homebody who would rather stay at home curled up with a blanket and a chai tea latte while while playing cards or have a movie marathon all night."

   "Really?" He paled, looking embarrassed. "Phoebe, from the time we spent together you came off as a crazy and wild and hot gal. Not this adorable, quaint, cultured lady."

   "Sorry, it's who I am. If you want to try and find a girl who is really like that, maybe.... I dunno."

   "No; no! I want to spend time with you, get to know you." 

   "Do you still want to go to the beach?"

   "Sure." I gestured for him to follow me as I began walking towards it. I felt his fingers intertwine with mine as he came closer.

   "I when I was in combat, I didn't know if I'd make it, sometimes, when I had to shoot people, I didn't know if I wanted to make it. Then I thought of you... You told me you'd never date me and I felt horrible. I wanted you to love me, or at least like my personality, and then I realised something. I was alright with not having a relationship; as long as I got to have my moments with you, have tiny memories and secrets that only we shared, I didn't care. I mean you could hate me after everything, for leaving for destroying what we had, but it would be okay, because I had those sentiments."

   "Ashe-"

   "Shh, it's fine. Do you remember the photo you took of yourself? The one where you surprised me Halloween night by lying in my dorm room with lace tights and garters and those feathers and combs in your hair? You had that heavy makeup and that smudgy stuff around your eyes, with red lip paint and long nails and stripper heels. When I walked in you where completely naked, only your were covering your... Lady areas with that silk fan?"

   "We're in public!" I exclaimed. "Don't remind me, please." I felt my cheeks flushing. I had been horridly unentertained  that afternoon, with my only class being an eight pm night one, so I decided to visit an eighteen and older Halloween couples shop. Needless to say, I bought myself a few role playing dress up items and a few less savoury unmentionables.

   "Sorry. I just wanted to say... That photo, you were the only woman... I, well, I haven't been with or seen... Forget it."

   "I get what you mean, it's fine."

   "For what it's worth, my bunk mates went through my possessions, found the photo and think you're an eight in it."

   "Is eight good?"

   "Well, ten is the highest on the shallow, vanity based, looks only scale and usually plastic surgery, hair dye, and over the top skimpy clothes are involved."

   "Ah." I replied, stepping onto the barren beach, not sure how to feel concerning the scale. I turned away, slipping out of my dress and sandals, as he slipped off his shirt, slipping into a life jacket that was lying on the sand, leaving his shorts on, thankfully. I was nervous about being in my underwear, if we both were I probably wouldn't be able to stay calm and pretend like this was a perfectly average thing to do, without telling your boyfriend. "A life jacket?" I questioned.

   "What can I say, safety is sexy, baby doll." I smiled, as I thought back to the Halloween party were he'd used that line to woo me.

   We both began wading into the chilly water, as my body reacted to the temperature, Asher kept stealing glances, before hurriedly looking away. 

   "Want to race me to the bobber?" He asked. I nodded, before plunging myself underneath the water to firmly douse myself, the. I popped back up and began paddling before he declared that it was go time. "Hey!" He exclaimed, teasingly upset. "No care, you cheated, plus you've got less clothes weighing you down."

   "What can I say? I make my own rules, occasionally."

   "That how you justify being cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater?"

   "Pumpkin eater?"

   "When you were a kid, didn't you have that rhyme?"

   "Nope." He was a quick swimmer; I received a head start, yet he was closer to the bobber. "Course I'm from the Virgin Islands, maybe the slang is different."

    "You're not American?"

   "I am a citizen, my dad was born and raised in the USA, I just grew up in a U.S. territory."

   "I win!" Sure enough, he was touching the bobber, he had beat me.

   "Well I," I said, while pushing water at him, so he was now thoroughly drenched, "was distracted by your chit chat."

   "Sure you were, had nothing to do with you being a slow swimmer." He shot back, pushing the water back towards me.

   "I'm," I splashed him, "not slow." I splashed him once more, just to emphasise my point.

   "You're pretty."

   "Thank you?"

   "You're welcome. You know, you don't have to act surprised or dubious, it's a fact. You're pretty."

   "I... Thank you." Was all I find myself able to say. If he was calling me pretty, I wonder what he'd call Marlo. Beautiful, probably. When she was healthy, she honestly was, but after her illness took over, she want herself. She'd changed and it scared me, thinking how all these people suffered, yet were able to go undetected. Her daughter would be seven, going into second grade as Anderson went into fifth, he was a bright ten year old who loved animals and the ocean and was probably going to work at the aquarium while studying to be a marine biologist. I wonder if she'd, whatever her name would be, would get along well with Uncle Andy. I wonder if my niece's father would have come fourth and taken responsibility for what he and Marlo did together.

   "You got quiet." Asher interrupted, ripping me out of my mind.

   "I was simply thinking."

   "You can be dangerous when you do that."

   "I suppose so..." I wanted to drift off to memory lane, continue remembering mom and daddy and Marlo. If I kept remembering, though, I'd probably start bawling. I loved LA and couldn't imagine not living here after only being a resident for seven years, yet sometimes I hit a phase where I wanted to fly to my hometown, visit the graves, with the old home, the ballet studio, everything from my childhood. If I ever have children, and I wanted to, so I suppose it was more of a when then if, I was going to take them to the local ballet studio, tell them how auntie loved it so, when they were older I'd tell them that she died for her potential career and how if they ever felt like they needed help or that something wasn't like they thought it should be like, they could tell me, we'd find help. They didn't need to be ashamed, they didn't need to suffer silently.

   I would take them to the boat dock next, rent a sailboat and pack a picnic basket, while telling them how granddaddy loved the water ad loved boating. Lastly, I'd teach them to value education over appearances and how you should always marry for love, not looks, which is how I felt about my mother and her apparent marriage to my father. I had a complicated relationship with my mother, she was far from perfect or even good, but towards the end she started trying harder and she tried making things right. I wasn't going to hail her as a saint just because she was gone, yet I wasn't going to bash her to smitherins, either.

   "You look upset." He murmured, coming closer, placing a hand on each of my shoulders.

   "I'm not..."

   "I hope you aren't. I just want you to be happy." I felt his arms embrace me, as my heart sped up.

   "You're a good hugger."

   "Thanks." He whispered in my ear, as I felt his lips begin to tickle my ear, slowly moving down my cheek to my lips. I wasn't sure what to do; if I said I wasn't enjoying it, I'd be lying. There was an odd passion, regret, despair, neediness, that's his kisses possessed that Xavier's didn't. I took my hands and placed them on his bulging biceps. He was so ripped, Xavier was fit, he was active, but not nearly to the extent that Asher was. I needed to stop comparing them, I loved Xavier now, but I use to lust for Asher, the circumstances where different, I couldn't compare an apple to a pineapple.

   "Asher." I mumbled, as I felt his hands creep lowers own my back.

   "What?" He abruptly stopped his lips, but his hands were still firmly attached to my lower back, feeling me up and down.

   "We were just swimming. I just wanted to go swimming... Why are you-?

   "Am I doing poorly?"

   "No, but, Asher, I thought I made myself clear. I don't want this anymore. I'm not that girl, I just want to let that part of my past sink away into my ocean of memories. I don't want to add another memory to that part of my life in the ocean."

   "But you seemed sad, whenever you were sad or stressed in the past, we... Phoebe, I don't know how to handle woman. I wish I did, but I don't, so I'm sorry. I was trying to be a good friend and comfort you, regardless of how misguided my attempts were, I want you to know that I care for you and will always try to make you feel better."

   "As a friend?"

   "I'll try my best. Being friends with someone as attractive as you-"

   "No!" I exclaimed, pulling away from him. "Asher, I'm happy, alright? I have a boyfriend, who I love very much and deserves to know that I am in love and lust with him and only him. You're making me feel guilty and confused and nostalgic and my emotions are so mixed concerning you, I'm not sure how to explain them. The point is," I took a large, deep breath, "I don't want whatever you have to offer. I use to love being around you, you made me feel a swirl of great things, but now those things are bad and I was finally happy. 

   I was diagnosed as someone who borderline the description of clinical depression after my parents and sister died, I felt guilty that I didn't have enough resources to provide for Anderson, I felt guilty that sometimes I just wanted to let loose and be a teenager, and I felt sad that I'd never get to meet my niece. Then, Delilah came and I was upset that I had to leave, guilty over being upset, then I felt horrid because I thought she might think I was abusing her kindness. When I met Xavier I thought he was too good to be true, when I went to college I felt guilty, my roommate confused me, and you were this tiny bit of wonderful who also confused me.

   When you left I wasn't sure how to feel, but after I went home for winter break, and everyone was excited that next May I'd graduate and told me how they were proud and I was strong, I felt happy. Not fleeting happy, not teeny tiny, short lasting moments of bliss or adrenaline, happiness. Because I had a family who supported me and loved me unconditionally, even if they were Delilah's friends. Anderson told me he thought I was a brave genius and mom and sissy and daddy would say that they thought so too, it made my heart almost melt. Then, Xavier told me how he found himself missing me and how he thought I was an intelligent, kind woman and how me being around made him happier and how that confused him, I was the step-child of his friend after all, I knew that I was finally in a good place and that after all my years of feeling bad as my primary emotion, I had good feelings as my primary emotions."

   "That's... That's certainly a monologue... But things are cleared up." He sighed. "Just tell me one thing, is the Xavier guy your boyfriend?" I nodded. "When did you start dating?"

   "Well, at home we decided mutually that I was a twenty-one year old college kid who needed to focus on finishing the last three semesters of college. On my twenty-third birthday, a year and half later, three and a half weeks after I'd graduated college with my bachelor's degree and had accepted a position at a design firm, he gave my a heart shaped necklace that was encrusted in emeralds and diamonds and pearls. He said the gems reminded him of my eyes. Everything sorta fell into place then, we started dating, we have been for two years, last year I got fed up with my job and Xavier got fed up with his so we both quit and opened up our own interior design firm together. He does the tech stuff, I decorate, we hired one of Delilah's friends to handle the money, Delilah creates custom sculptures for the clients and also uses her connections to help get the firm discounts on this we need. See, my life is good. I'm happy, Asher I want you to find someone who will give you a good life. A happy life. I wish I could, but..."

   I'm a goddamn idiot." He sighed. "Dammit, Pho. Dammit. I didn't need the monologue; I get that you're happy, I just thought maybe one last time som I don't know. I wanted to end things better. Leave with happier memories."

   "I'm sorry." I paled. I hadn't meant to go off on a tangent about how great my life was; I just felt so joyful living, I wanted to share my joy with everything, give them light. Obviously my efforts had the opposite effect. "Goodbyes... Goodbyes are overrated." I simply said, as I watched him swim away, melodramatically. I looked down at my simple cotton bra, blushing. Perhaps this idea wasn't one of my brightest; either way, what was done was done, I needed to stay positive. Xavier had something special planned tonight, why wallow in what could have been when I had true love not just lust?

My new theme + Bloopers

   I love it so, SO much! Isn't it pretty? I got the background from shabbyblogs.com, as well as the header picture, then I just added the names of all the heirs. I've spastically changed my blog's appearance so much, however I don't believe that I will again... Sadly, I only have one generation left before the Janes' journey ends. I could keep going to eleven, twelve, or even twenty generations, but I think that would grow cumbersome on both you, the readers, as well as me, the author.
   I don't know why I'm posting this now; this legacy is still going to go on until I end generation ten, I was just feeling sentimental, since in January it'll be my blogger's accounts two year anniversary. My goal is to have 84 posts in 2014 (currently there are 75, 76 counting this one), like I did in 2013. My computer's been horrid, plus school and all, but I WILL post more chapters. Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with this legacy and will continue sticking with it until the very end.

-xo

P.S. Here are four bonus pics from generation nine, before I release the next three/four/five chapters of generation nine.

The ex-firehouse where Delilah, Anderson, and Phoebe live.

Pho's dorm caught on fire, I thought that the fireman's facial expression was funny.

Maya and Anderson... I dunno what she's doing, haha

Phoebe's dashing to class