2.9: Maybe's All She's Got

IMPORTANT: I  forgot to take pictures before Gabrielle aged up, so there's not a lot of pictures, but I also wanted you guys to use some imagination for the last bit. Sometimes, that can be more dramatic then all the quickly edited photos in the world. =) Also, this chapter is a little sad....I practically cried when making it up and writing it all down....that's why it took me a little longer to publish a chapter. Please just don't skim because there aren't a ton of pictures.

Thanks, you guys are fabulous!  *Squishy hugs* ;)

P.S. There's some mature themes......so yeah..... *Cues evil laughter* You have been warned. =)

And while I'm at it, I didn't get many pictures of Jessa. She's available for download, though.  Also, if you go to the Family Tree tab, there's a sentence at the top that says 'Click HERE for minor character downloads' so, go there for minor character downloads, like Jamie's children or any high school sweethearts, etc. =)
 
     "Gabrielle." My teacher called out.
     "Huh? Here?" I looked up from the poem I was scribbling in my notebook.
     "Do you have your extra credit?" She glanced up from her list of people who didn't need extra credit; 4.0's  where hardly bad grades, but they decided to do the project anyway. The overachievers seemed to be the only ones who actually did bonus projects or extra assignments that weren't required, just because they wanted to or their 102.8 (which rounded up to 103) simply wasn't cutting it. Needless to say, I wasn't an overachiever. I had a social life; or at least three fourths of something that resembled one.
     "Um, yeah." I blushed. I grabbed my notebook that had all sorts of poems and songs, I loved singing and music. Nobody knows that I inherited the author's gene from Mom and spent my spare time writing poems and lyrics down. I've been practicing in the shower; I think I'm getting pretty good. "So," I said to a bunch of half asleep eighth graders in the teacher's headset mic, I loved speaking in a microphone, "Instead of doing a PowerPoint or poster for the area, circumference, and perimeter, I decided to do something, a little...different." I glanced at Mrs. Epp, the young twenty-something Math teacher at Bridgeport Public Junior High, who I had for seventh, my last, period. Seventh; advanced. Lucky me did so well on seventh grade standardized testing, I got into the top notch class filled to the brim with 105 averages, making my current 77, C, seem like an F.
     With my fourteenth birthday looming around the corner, Mom and Papa said I had to get a B if I wanted to keep the (nonrefundable) concert tickets I begged for. If all else failed, I had B's in every other class, and it would be enough to scrap my GPA up to a 2.9 and I'd get the concert tickets as an eighth grade graduation present. "Graduation" was two days away, standardized testing and finals where finished, leaving the teachers with nothing for the students to do.
      "Perfect! I love creativity." She nodded and smiled.
      "I'm going to do a song." I looked down and then began singing. I let myself flow into the words, smiling. This felt natural; I loved preforming. I sand about pi being multiplied by the radius squared, and pi multiplied by the diameter. It was over to soon.
       "Very good, Gabrielle!" Mrs. Epp clapped. "Now class, the last day is two, one now that today's over, away. Tomorrow is the eighth grade picnic at the beach, and sadly today's the last day I'll see you. Sadly that isn't true for some of my other classes." She quietly added the last sentence, only I, who was still standing at the front of the room, could hear it. "I want to wish you all the best in high school. Class is," she paused a second for the clock to go from 2:59 to 3:00, "Dismissed." The announcements began and everyone gathered up there things, rushing to get to their lockers before the buses left. "Gabrielle" Mrs. Epp pulled me aside.
       "Yes?" I wasn't in trouble, was I? I couldn't be. The concert, which I was planning on giving my extra ticket to my friend, ...I needed a good grade.
      "Your song was excellent. Did you ever consider trying out for Choir?"
      "No." I shrugged. Robes, three hour after school practices, and the insane elderly teacher who had a thing for Gospel and Mozart, two things I defiantly didn't like, wasn't how I was going to waste my middle school years. "I don't really like Mr.-"
      "I meant for high school. They have a great teacher, Miss. DiCeltson, she does an annual talent show and a Broadway Paloosa. I thought you might be interested."
       "Broadway Paloosa?" Great. Drama Goths and Choir Bitches wrapped into one. "I don't act."
       "She also does private guitar, piano, or violin lessons for talent show participants. She offers twenty extra credit points to her Home Ec. and Dramatics students if they participate."
       "Guitar lessons?" I gasped, "For, like, free?"
       "One hundred percent."
        "That's amazing..." I'd secretly wanted a guitar since, well since I'd started singing. It was so long ago...yet I still remembered it. I was only eight...

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      "Papa!" I giggled, sitting in the backseat of the convertible. "This isn't the cafe."
      "Non," He smiled, "It's the park. The cafe open mic night doesn't start until seven, we have two hours to kill. I figured we could have some ice cream and roller blade until then, oui?"
    "Oui. Look! A photo booth!  Can we get our pictures taken?"
    "Of course."
    "Wait...." My face fell. "I only have a couple nickels."
     "I think I can cover it." He laughed, as we walked to the booth. "Silly, or serious?"
     "Hmm...." I thought, as I got into the booth. "Silly." I decided.
      "Regardez comment drôle que nous sommes!" He said, as we looked at the photos later and licked freezing cones of vanilla and lemon ice cream that we'd bought from the concession stand that Aunt Cassie ran. Daddy didn't seem happy with her, mumbled something about her being a 'Tricher salope!' and Breaking Jamie's heart, sleeping with half his team. Apparently Jamie, who I guess was my uncle, didn't want a divorce cause they have kids. I don't know what it means, but I guess it means we don't like Aunt Cassie.
      "Papa!" I giggled. I was fluent in French and English, and he loved speaking French. I do too, I'm half French! "Oui, nous ne sommes plein d'humour! Dommage que maman doit rester à la maison avec Antoinette ... Je déteste être malade."
       "The doctor said it was just a cold, it will be better before we know it. Hopefully she'll not miss the first day of kindergarten."
        "Look!" I spotted my friend, Maura Casey. "Papa, can I go play?"
        "Of course."
        "Gabrielle!"
        "Maura!"
        "I just scored a goal!"
        "Cool," Then I lowered my voice to a whisper, "Your babysitter took you, right.?"
        "Yeah, my parents are at work." She giggled. She babysitter was a seventeen year old who liked dragging her various boyfriends around with her and drank a lot of icky smelling stuff from glass bottles that, according to what Maura overheard, she stole from her drunk daddy. 
         "What's it mean if somebody slept with somebody?"
         "I dunno." She shrugged. "But my sitter might. She went with her boyfriend to his car to get something, I guess for soccer. It's been awhile....Huh. And he told her it was gonna be quickie."
        "Gabrielle!" Papa called out.
        "I have to go." I told Maura. "See ya later?"
        "See ya." She replied, turning back to her game.
        "Bonjour." I smiled. "What time is it?"
        "Six-forty five. We can have burgers and milkshakes and grab a good seat, if we hurry."
       "You know I can't say no to a milkshake!"
      "Come on," He said, as I skipped to the car. I ordered a strawberry milkshake, with extra whip cream hold the cherry and a hot dog. Daddy got a water and a large fry for us to share and a turkey burger.
       "Wow!" I gasped as I watched the singer. She was pretty, with ginger curls and a guitar. She sang with a country accent, but her music wasn't country. She sand some song about people rolling in the deep. It was amazing. "Daddy, I wanna be like her when I grow up!" I said, like little kids do.
         "You do?" He asked, playing along. "You wanna play guitar?"
        "Yep! I'm gonna be up their, one day." I pictured myself on the now empty stage. Singing...
        "Was today fun?" Papa asked.
        "Oui." He hugged me, then his phone beeped.

        "There's an emergency at the hospital. He looked panicked; worried. "Can I a call Mommy and she can pick you up?'
       "Yeah." I said, slightly disappointed that today was over already.
      "Please. There was a pile up. Three in critical, one in a coma. Traumatic bleeding and head injuries. Gabrielle," He turned to me, "Can you stay here and wait? Mommy's on her way. I love you."
      "I love you, too Papa." I sat on the folding chair, swinging me feet back and fourth.
      "Can I sit here?" Someone asked. I glanced around; the place was packed.
      "Uh, huh." I absentmindedly nodded. "Wait! You're the singer!"
      "I am." She nodded.
      "Do you live here? Cause my Daddy said he didn't recognize you from the normal list of people who come."
      "I'm from out of town." She said, her accent, clearly Southern, began showing through.
      "You sing pretty. I wanna sing like you and play guitar!"
      "Thank you. What's your name, hon?"
      "Gabrielle."
      "Where's your Daddy? You aren't here alone, are you?"
      "No. My Mommy's coming. She's with my sister. She's sick."
      "Okay, good. Bridgeport's a big city, I wouldn't-er. Never mind. Small town instinct."
      "Are you famous?"
      "No." She laughed, "But I'd like to be."
      "Will you sign this?" I turned the photos from earlier over.
      "My first autograph! Of course."
       Gabrielle, Keep dreaming and call me when you're a superstar!Keep trying and never give up, and you'll make it big! ♥ xoxo ♥
  "Gabrielle!" My Mom rushed up to be, holding Antoinette's hand. "Are you alright?"
  "I'm good. I  met a nice lady, she sang."
  "That's nice. Where is this nice lady?" She looked worried.
  "She's," I turned. She was gone. "Huh." I said, confused. Where had she gone? That's what inspired me. After that, I began practicing my singing in the shower, in secret. I'd asked Mommy and Papa for a guitar and they said when I was older.
      For the next couple weeks, Papa took me back to the cafe. I wanted to thank the singer lady and hear her again. I never did see her. I looked online one night, to see what her name was. I never did find her. If I did....I don't know what I would have said. My future,  bizarre, wild, crazy; all of it because I heard her sing. I would have thanked her. So much will happen....so much I didn't know then, or now. So much would unravel in high school....I just had to hold on for the ride. But that's life. And it's pretty great, if you ask me.

____________________________________

     "Okay." I agreed."When can I-?"

     "Tomorrow, during the picnic you could go talk to her. We're using the high school's football field. I could come up with an excuse, if you wanted." She smiled.

      "During the picnic....?" I pondered. My one friend I had, Maura, had a gaggle of others. She'd notice that I was gone, then roll her eyes and flip her hair and talk to some other brainless blonde. If I did come, it would be awkward. I didn't fit into any cliche. Maura...she did. Some place between the almost cheerleader B-table kids and the I'm popular because I dated that one dude, who I broke up with and my parents spend way to much on my wardrobe one. "Sure." I shrugged.
      "See me when we leave." She smiled.
      "Thanks." I exited her classroom, rushing to my locker. "Umft." I grunted as a girl bumped into me, knocking the books out of her hands.
      "Oops! S-s-sorry!"She blushed, looking down, frantically collecting her books. "I'm such a klutz."
      "It's okay." I said, leaning down to help her."I'm Gabrielle."
      "I'm Jessa Hart." She smiled, standing up again with her books.
      "Are you new?" I asked, dumbly.
      "Not really. I went to this other school and moved here about a month ago."
      "Cool. How do you like Bridgeport?"
      "I love it! It's so much busier and brighter..."
      "So, are you bus?"
      "Sometimes. I take the subway, mostly."
      "Really? Usually I get picked up by my mum." We began walking outside.  Jessa was fabulous; we became instant friends. Jessa and I both where the friendless type, it was nice to have someone you could talk with.
      "Hey...do you want to come over sometime? I'm having this get together thing tomorrow night for my birthday."
      "Sure. My uncle doesn't care." She said, quietly. 
      "I have to go." I gestured to my mum's waiting car.
      "Me, too. Bye."
      "Bye." I said, turning away. I hopped in the back seat, next to Antoinette. At eleven years old, going into sixth grade she's really pretty. Petite, blonde, a girly  girl, smart, kind, but a coward. I heard Dad whispering to Mom that she was going to be a real heart breaker once she discovers guys and that he's in trouble. Antoinette is the perfect doll, straight A's, polite; the golden child. And I'm me. Run of the mill, barely good grades, and I'm not exactly going to be a guy magnet. I'm the average one. Nothing special.

     "Remember that, Gabrielle. Music can make you special. I though that, as I nervously stood outside Miss. DiCeltson's door, holding the slip of paper Mrs. Epp had given me. I raised my hand, and knocked."
     "And?"
     "I sang and she loved it! I can audition for the talent show!"
     "Yay!" Jessa cheered. We had just gotten back from the concert and changed into our jammies, when Jess begged me to retell her everything.
     "Girls, cake!" My mom called out.

     "Come on," I gestured to Jessa.  We ran down the stairs, breathlessly.
     "Happy birthday to you, happy happy birthday," They all sand, as I smiled and blew out my candles. I wish-to be a heart breaker? A world famous singer? No. I knew exactly what I was going to wish.
      "What did you wish for?"  Jessa asked.
      "I can't tell you," I smiled. "You know that."
      "I do." She sighed, taking a bite of her slice of cake.

      We laid on the floor, in our sleeping bags. It was one am, quiet as could be. I was awake staring up at my ceiling. Everyone makes a big deal out of things like this; being a year older, going into high school. Nothing felt different. I felt like plain me.
       "Gabrielle?" Jessa's voice pierced the dreaded silence.
       "Yeah?"
       "What did you wish for?"
        "Jessss-uh!" I pretended to whine.
        "Gabrrrrr-elllllle!"
         I sighed, over in my sleeping bag.  "My life will be different and crazy and wild and fun and unpredictable." I whispered to the darkness.
         "Does this unpredictable wild crazy fun have a name?" Jessa whispered back.
         "He doesn't. Yet."
         "Yet."
         "Jessa...why do you live with you uncle?" I blurted out, before I could stop. She got real quiet. "I'msorryyoudonothavetotellmeifitistoopersonal." I rushed out.
        "No...it's....I should tell someone..." She took a deep breath. "My Mom had me early, when she was eighteen. It was her first year of university. She came from a super poor family and was there on a scholarship...the snobs who could afford it hated it. Hated her. People told me she was different, like unique. Kind and bubbly and loved people. But...she had this go for it motto. She was impulsive and.....Poof. Suddenly she was pregnant and had no idea who the dad was. She," I heard tears.
       "It's okay." I whispered. "I-you don't have to say anything else." This was awful I didn't want to hear anymore. I wanted to sit with Jessa and let her cry it all out while we ate ice cream. Not listen to her pain drip out of her mouth.
        "I....it's okay. I need to accept this. I haven't really....I've been in denial since I learned. That's kinda why I"m this antisocial, shy, quiet girl who doesn't have any friends."
        "Jessa, I'm your friend." I moved over and hugged her.
        "I know." She sniffled. "Thanks."
        "Your welcome. I'll always be there for you."
        "My mom....a year ago, I was reading her old diaries. I learned something nobody mentioned. Everybody slipped over the how she got pregnant part. This...her diary...it was just so real. Like it was all happening now, not thirteen years ago. She was depressed, secretly. She was bullied worse than anyone knew. She was pretty. She hated being bullied, and she didn't want to tell her parents....it wasn't their fault they had no money. When she was born, her mom decided to become a stay at home mom. Her dad's office department all got laid off. They lost the big home and ended up moving into a cramped home while renting the rooms out.
       She went to a party....she was sad; the day had been worse than usual. She drank too much...a couple people spiked her drink....it started her addiction...a bunch of guys took advantage of her. Passed her around....in her diary it said that she ended up passing out in the middle of it...that didn't stop them." She began weeping.
          "That's horrible...." I whispered.
          "She woke up the next morning in an empty dorm, her makeup was all over her face and her clothing was gone....people had written things all over her....slut...whore....and guys names....pointing to a body part. 'I went here.' 'This belongs to whoever' 'My...went into that....'" She paused. "You shouldn't have to hear this...how broken my life turned out to be.....I should just leave."
         "No! Jessa, it wasn't your fault. I-you don't have to-you-you can stop if you'd like."
         "The bullying got worse. When she found out she was pregnant, she tried to hide it. Said she was getting fat. People weren't stupid. They learned. She didn't know who the dad was....the notes. She turned to....her addiction. Nobody knew. She hid it all. 'Teen mom'....everyone shook their heads. The poor girl messed up her future. She didn't belong after all.
       She had me and a few months later, they found an empty dorm room....I was laying in my crib, fed, changed, and asleep. I was screaming, though....bottles of beer and  drugs, where laid on the floor in a circle. Her diaries in the center, with the bin of bully notes. She left one note. 'I can't take it. I love Jessa. She doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve me. It wasn't her who did this. Everyone thought I was fine. I wasn't. Who can go through this hell and still be damned okay? Looks can be deceiving.....one day, everyone will know that. You'll know that, Jessa. Your mother is an addict and a drunk and doesn't know who your father is. I can't ask you to love that. But I can try. One day, she'll see me.' A bloody knife was on the note...."
        "Jessa...." I was crying to, now. "Was she.....?" Dead. Was she dead?
        "I don't know." She shook her head. "There was no body. They...she's assumed dead. Gabrielle, you know what sucks? That nobody notices it. Nobody asked or cared. But I do. I love her. I don't know what happened. If she left then killed herself or just ran away.....Gabrielle I don't know."
        I sat there, stunned. I didn't know what to say. I didn't. Who could? I'm sorry? My life wasn't picture perfect, but it sure beat the heck out of hers. I didn't know what it felt like. Jessa curled up in her sleeping bag. I heard her tears stop and breathing slow. She was sleeping. Her mom could be alive...her dad, who knows? Maybe her moms out there. Regretting that she left. Happy that she escaped the pain. Maybe leaving so Jessa could have a better life. Staging death, so her daughter would be taken care of properly. Maybe she left alive but ended up dying later. Maybe she never cured herself. It wasn't something you just stopped. Withdrawal could be powerful. Maybe she died but didn't want to do it with her daughter around when she did it. Maybe she wanted to stay a mystery. Maybe there was no mystery. Her mind was foggy and she couldn't think. Maybe....maybe. I felt sick for wondering everything. Maybe was all Jessa had left. Jessa could imagine her mother living happily. I couldn't ruin that.
       Maybe isn't fun. It lets  the brain take a break and the imagination take control. Sometimes we imagine happiness. But we always ponder the pain. Maybe everything's worse. Maybe not knowing is better. Maybe by not knowing if she was dead or alive, she could paint a fantasy. Happy. Peaceful with her self. Not addicted. Living. But maybe a body would be better. Maybe knowing exactly what happened would be easier to accept. Maybe you wouldn't have to worry so much. Maybe Jess wouldn't have to imagine her mother alive, with another family. Leaving her daughter to suffer in curiosity while she lived happily. Maybe her mom changed her name. Maybe she's my neighbor who went under the knife. Maybe she's living in the next town, or the next one, or the next one. Never this one. Always the next one. Maybe she's sitting in Paris. Maybe she met my mom and they wrote novels together. Maybe all she wants is her daughter. But that's the thing about maybes. We'll never know. 

2.8: My Life in a Diary

NOTE: For Tiffani's Diary portion, the italics font is her memories. The non-italic typewriter looking font is what she writes in her diary.

________________________________________________

Dear Diary,
There's so much to remember. Today...it was so hard. I felt like crying most of it.

  "Good job." I smiled, as Gabrielle murmured butchered words. I was teaching her more words. After her heartbreaking first words, we decided to help her expand her vocabulary.
     "Wuve oo Mommy." She giggled. "Wuve oo Daddy."
     "She said Daddy!" Francois beamed, walking into the nursery. "Tiffani. It's time."
     "I-I-it's time?" I felt the tears coming. The funeral. "I just need to change Gabrielle."
     At the funeral, the whole family came. Cassie, Jamie, Alex, Evelyn, the whole clan of kids. they spoke about the couple; how committed they where to each other, how much they love everyone, their generosity, and love of life. Everyone slowly went their own ways, until it was just Gabrielle, Francois, and I.

The funeral...it was the hardest part of loss. Sometimes, it isn't death that makes it so bad. You've accepted everything, then suddenly you have to look in the casket. Everyone has a speech, and they make you realize what you lost. 

      "She-she's gone." I cried. I was taking the loss of my Mother, who raised me despite my true father's betrayal. Harry was more like a Father then I'd ever had. And now they where both gone. Francois was at a loss for words. Fourteen years ago, I met him. He knew my parents for almost as long. It was just as personal for him; considering that the only family he had was mine.
      "Tiffani." He hugged me, picking Gabrielle who was toddling around the graveyard, exploring. She was a silent child; respectful during the ceremony, not even letting out a cry. Of course, her little brain didn't know what was happening. She didn't know the horrors of death. How we roam the Earth for so long, then suddenly we're gone. We don't get another though; another breath. We're gone.
       "You-ou know what Aly-lyce said?" Alyce. The first time I ever called my Mother by her first name. "That Gabrielle was so quiet because she was saving all her talking for when she was older. That when she was three, she'd really open up. I can't-t, how, ho-ow-w can I-?"
       "Tiffani. We'll get through this. Together." He looked me in the eye. "I love you. I know that. We have each other and Gabrielle. We have to be strong for her. We don't have to forget, but we have to make it through."
  
Francois was so comforting during the whole thing. I was a weeping mess. Damn, I love him. Words can't describe. Losing Mom-Alyce, hurt. Harry....I feel odd. He was part of my life, but he wasn't. He was there, but he was never part of the family. He was more like a father then my dead biological one, but....Mom told me. About Johnny. He knocked up some wreck...she lost the babies. Dumped him and pursed her acting career in Bridgeport. Love...I feel lost without it....or I would...I don't know what it feels like. I've never had to.

       "Fr-rancois?" I took his hand and we began to walking to the car, with him carrying Gabrielle.
       "Oui, ma chérie?"
       "Can-n we have the wedding soon? This made me realize-Francois. Life is too short. I don't want to wait."
       "Of course. We can have whenever you like."
       "And a party? A big wedding party...I'd like to have a reunion without death being the reason."
       "Sure. We can buy you a dress-"
       "And you a tuxedo."
       "And me a tuxedo and Gabrielle a little dress."
       "We can invite Cassie and Jamie's family and Alex and Evelyn and their boys-"
       "The backyard...we can have it in the backyard." 

Diary, I'm getting married! There's just one tiny bump (literally!). I'm visiting a doctor tomorrow. I'll write then....
                                          ~Tiffani

Dear Diary (Eight Months Later.....),

    It was my wedding today. Eight months ago, two after Mom's death, we'd decided to hold the wedding. I rubbed my bulging stomach. I was pregnant; we found out right after the funeral. I glanced at the surroundings; at the backyard. In the Mom's Will, she gave us money to pay for the wedding. We had decided on something simple, and quiet instead of an elaborate ceremony that Alyce had willingly gave us money for. With only my brother's families there, I shouldn't be nervous. But I was.
     The music began playing: Here comes the bride, here comes the- I stopped. Something was coming and it wasn't the bride. My water had just broken all over the aisle, and my dress.
    "Tiff? Tiff!" Cassie whispered, gesturing for me to walk forwards. I was frozen.
    "Tiffani?" Francois rushed over to me. "Tiffani?"
    "Francois." I whispered. "We can't continue the wedding."
    "What-"
    "Baby. On it's way." I said through clenched teeth. I loved this man to death, but sometimes he could be so clueless. Especially for a doctor.
    "She's in labor?!" Evelyn paled. Everyone started going insane.
    "Quick-car-now." Francois helped me walk to the convertible. 
    "Well." I sighed, "My dress is ruined." I pretended to act disappointed, but in truth I was glad. I loathed my dress. There was only one style of maternity wedding dresses at all the boutiques I visited, it was the same style my Mother had worn. I originally bought an adorable dress, but after my tummy had blown up like a balloon, it didn't fit. I suppose I'd get to wear it, now.
    We rushed into the hospital, or in my case waddled while Francois helped me and carried my overnight bag. Everything was a blur, as I was rushed into a hospital  room. I closed my eyes, breathing hard. Exactly two minutes after I had been prepped and in a room, I squeezed out baby number two.
     "Miss. Janes, Mr. Bonaparle." The doctor said, smiling. "Congratulations, it's a girl."

     "A girl." I gasped, smiling.
     "What would you like to name her?"
     "Antoinette." Francois and I said, unified.
     Antoinette, or Anna, as Gabrielle called her, was a little Daddy's girl. If she woke up in the morning, crying, it wasn't Mommy who could make everything better, it was Daddy. Francois continued to do better and better at his job, my novel's royalties became much higher, I earned my Fine Arts degree, we finished remodeling the house; the emptiness Harry and Alyce had left was finally being filled again. Time flew by; before I knew it, Antoinette was turning two years old and Gabrielle was going to turn five; she'd start school soon. 
     My girls grew up so fast. I know it's a cliche, but it feels like just yesterday I was meeting Francois, much less engaged with children.
     "Francois." I hugged him, standing in the backyard. 
     "What, love?"
     "Our babies are growing up. And I'm growing old." I sighed.
     "Thirty-five isn't old." He laughed. "Try being thirty-eight."
     "Still handsome as ever." I kissed him.
     "And you're just as gorgeous." 
     "Mama!" Gabrielle rushed outside, her pigtails bouncing. 
     "What, sweetie?"
     "Antoinette." She took a deep breath. "Antoinette just said her first word!"
     "Was it Mommy? Tell me it was Mommy." I smiled with delight, as Francois said, "It was Papa. It was Papa, wasn't it?" 
      "No, Papa." She giggled, as adorable five year old's do. "It was sissa! She said sister!"

      "Wow." I smiled. 
      Francois picked up Gabrielle and swirled around. I smiled. 
      "Bur, it's chilly." The sun had begun setting, and the cool temperatures had set in.
      "Come on, let's go in." Francois said. My life...it is so perfect. I feel ashamed for thinking it, but I feel like it is.
  The madly in love,
            Tiffani
              

Dear Diary (One year later...),
  I don't know why I decided to write again. One year, Eight months ago....I haven't written since I was a little girl, living in the cabin with my brothers and Mum. So much has changed. Mom and Harry, her second-husband, are no longer with us. Alex and Jamie both have their own family, Cassie, my best friend, got knocked up in high school and ended up marrying Jamie because of the baby. I haven't seen them in awhile. Alex is happily married to his high school sweetheart, Evelyn. They have twin sons.
    As for my, diary, I've lucked out. I have an adorable six year old named Gabrielle, and a three year old named Antoinette. Not to forget my gorgeous fiance, Francois. I think I have a few pictures of Gabrielle as a toddler and child, and Antoinette as a toddler. 

A three year old Gabrielle.

    Gabrielle loved her xylophone! She's very musically inclined. Francois took her to a performance at the park to see her first live performer, yesterday! She'd all ready decided that she wants to learn how to play the guitar, when she's older. 
    Antoinette is a doll. She's as sweet as can be and is a little Daddy's girl. And Francois-he's amazing and sweet. He wears this goofy little hat that I love and is French and looks like a model. And I'm marrying him! Soon. We tried, two years ago, but I ended up going into labor! That's a whole different story. Diary, my life is amazing. I don't want to sound braggy, but it is! Oh, Antoinette is crying. I better go see what's wrong.
             xoxo,
                Tiffani 

2.7: Life and Death

     "Tiffani, you should rest."
     "I am." I was leaning against the nursery wall, which we'd, we meaning I stood telling Francois where to move everything, just finished arranging all the furniture for. The result was adorable. The walls where painted pink, with white polka dots, and everything matched; even the little tree shaped bookshelf I insisted we buy the minute I saw it at the baby store. With my due date looming, I was glad everything was ready to go. "Did you put batteries in the monitor?" I asked, for the tenth time.

       "Yes, and in the one in our bedroom, and in the one in our room."  He smiled at me. "There's no need to worry."
        "What if-"
        "My job is to worry. Yours is to take care of yourself and the baby."
        "Okay." I sighed. "W-What if I can't do this?"  I was scared to death. The baby was going to come any minute and I only knew what a few classes and one book told me.
         "We're ready." He smiled. "We did everything we could."
          "But-what-or-maybe-if-what?"
          "Honey," he hugged me awkwardly. "We're ready."
          "We are? We are." I looked at him. "Do we have any honey? Or bananas?" I'd been craving bananas and the sticky sweet honey that I usually hated throughout the pregnancy.
        "I think we bought some yesterday. Rest on the bed, and I'll see."
        We exited the nursery and I shut the door to my  pink delight nursery. I couldn't bear to keep the gender a secret for so many months, besides gender neutral yellow would have been hideous. A nice mint, maybe. Francois had wanted it to stay a surprise, but after I bought every pink piece of clothing and decor that Babies R Us had, he figured out that the little bundle of joy I was carrying around was a girl. Of course, there was a slim chance that the little darling was a boy, but I really hoped s/he was a girl. I wouldn't want to buy a whole new set of furniture and clothing.
        "Isn't that right?" I placed my hands protectively over my balloon sized tummy. I was thirty-five and a half weeks along. I laid down on the bed and propped my swollen feet up on a pillow. Suddenly, I felt strange. "Francois!" I shouted. I was greeted with silence. "Fran-COIS!"
        "Tiffani?!" I heard him thundering up the stairs. "What's wrong?" I stood up and slipped on my shoes, shocked. This was happening. Now. "Tiffani? The baby-okay? " He looked worried.
         "My water just broke." I started hobbling to the stairs.

          "Your wat-" He started panicking. "Hospital!" He helped me to the car and we drove to the hospital. An hour later, I was screaming.
          "Breath. Just breathe." The nurse said, as the doctor gave me different orders.
          "Push!"
          "FUU-DGGGGGE!" I screamed, with a lucky save. This hurt like hell, even with the meds. I felt sorry for Francois's hand, which I was gripping so tight it probably had cut off the blood flow.
          "Congratulations." The doctor smiled, holding up a pinkish squishy blob that I assumed was my child. "It's a girl."
           "I-I'd like to name her Gabrielle." I said a few minutes later, as I held her. Gabrielle, a gorgeous French name.
           "Welcome to the world, Gabrielle." Francois beamed.
          Gabrielle was a little angel. The first six months where rough, but after that she would sleep through most of the night. She began babbling shortly after that, mostly goo's and ga's and random sounds. Time flew by, before I knew it she was going to  turn two soon.
          "Can you believe it?" I asked, laying in bed next to Francois.
          "Our little baby's growing up."
          "She still hasn't walked or said anything other than sounds...is that bad?"
          "She's a little late on the walking, but some children don't talk until they're three. She needs time."
          "What would you think about another baby?" I nervously said. "I loved Gabrielle to pieces; I just think she needs a sibling..."
           "When?" He asked.
           "When?"
           "When do you want a another baby? When do you want to start trying?"
           "Well...I know we wanted to have the wedding first....but I think I'm-" Suddenly, an ear piercing scream jerked us fully awake. Francois, who was savoring the minutes until he had to go to work, ran to the nursery. I threw on my robe and followed.

           "Is Gabrielle okay?" I asked, out of breath. Then, it hit me. "Mom!" Iran outside to the pool, Francois following me. She was passed out, by the pool, in her swimsuit. Worry overcame me. I hope she was just tired. "Mom? Mom?" I tried talking to her.
           "She has a pulse." He exclaimed.
           "Ma'am? Ma'am?" A voice filled the air. Her phone. I searched around for it, finding it and clutching it to my ear.
           "Hello? Who is this?"
           "The hospital. Ma'am, I'm afraid he didn't make it."

Harry's Point of View....one hour ago....

      I tied my running shoes, preparing for my morning jog. I kissed Alyce, who was laying in bed with her eyes open.

         "Harry. I love you. Can you believe it? We've been married so long...our anniversary is tomorrow. And Gabrielle's birthday next week...."

         "Amazing how time flies. Isn't it? So many year, yet it feels like only a day. I love you, Alyce." I leaned over and kissed her. "See you soon." I st
ood up and walked downstairs and outside. The morning air was cool and fresh. Perfect for a jaunt. 

         My feet began pounding the pavement. The sky began opening up, crying. The rain fell onto the pavement, making it slick. I felt a jerk in my chest. That's odd. I was tumbling to the ground. My vision became dark and blurry; I couldn't see anything. 

        "Alyce...I lo-" My body hit the pavement.

 Alyce's Point of View...

     Harry Laurel. He couldn't be gone. NO. No, he couldn't. Harry. I felt the tears well up inside me. He had to be okay. This had to be a joke. Any minute, he'd pop up from behind some furniture and we'd be okay. He'd kiss me and tell me he was sorry for scaring me, and it would be okay.

     But it wasn't. He was gone. I lay on the bed, silently. They'd insisted on taking me to therapy for the last month. I was fine. One month....the funeral was in three weeks. Four weeks without him. I closed my eyes. My heart felt heavy.
     "Mom." Tiff whispered, quietly coming in. "Mom, I have news."
     "What is it honey. Is it good? I could use some good news?"
     "It is." She beamed. "Gabrielle-"
     "And your husband."
     "Well, not yet. We're going to set a date, soon."
     "That's good. It's good you found someone...commitment...it can be difficult."
Commitment is scary. I can't decide if I made the right choice...I know I did....sometime I doubt myself, though. Is that wrong? I sometimes wonder what would have happened if my taxi cab had just kept driving into the sunset, never stopping in Bridgeport. We'd be in some random town with no gas in the car. I'd never be a mom, I'd not be married...sometimes I wanted that. Sometimes I wish life was different....I look into the face of my children, my husband, and know I did everything right. I messed up a couple times, yet somehow they've forgiven me. That's all I needed. As my thoughts become blurry and my heartbeat slows, I realize my life is complete. I can go.
   "I love you....never....never forget your regrets; they're your best decision, you just never realized it. Moving to Bridgeport was mine...." I closed my eyes as I hear the tears rush down everyone's faces.  "Tell him, tell him..." My voice falters; I let myself drift off, I never spoke another word. I was complete.

Tiffani's Point of View...

     "Mom? Mom, wake up!" I felt the tears drip down my face.  She never knew. I didn't get to tell her. I felt for a pulse, wanting some sign that she was okay. I knew that everything was heading to this. She died from a broken heart. 

      "Tiffani?" Francois came in. "Tiffani?!"He looked from her body to me. 

      "Call 911! Quick she might..." It was to late. I knew that. But a little piece of me held onto the hope. 

      "I will." He called them. I heard sirens in the distance. He exited to greet them.

      "Mommy." I whispered, my voice turning childish."Mommy. Gabrielle said 'Gwama'. Her first word! Mommy?" She was gone.

2.6: Little Surprises

     Negative. I stared at the test, sitting with my legs crossed on the bed, tears welling up in my eyes. What was wrong with me? It had been seven years since my accident. Francois and I had made the decision to start trying a year, almost two, ago.
With my thirtieth birthday looming a month away, I felt hopeless.  What type of idiot can't have a child? Plenty of idiots could reproduce...why not me? We'd visited a doctor a few months ago. I could have children. We knew there was other ways. We just couldn't give up hope yet.

   "Tiffani?" Francois crept into the room.
    "Hey." I sniffled, wiping the tears away.
    "Tiff." He whispered, sitting on the bed, holding me in his arms. "It'll be okay. We-"
    "Okay?! How can it be okay?" I began breaking down; crumbling. "Francois I love you...I just want you to have everything perfect. I can't even give you a damn adorable child. We're getting older and-"

     "Tiffani." He took my ring less fingers and intertwined them with his. "I don't need any of that. I have you."
      "Thanks." I smiled at him, as I wiped away my tears and polished myself up.
      "Tiffani, I was going to wait until our vacation to China to do
this, but," He bent down on one knee, "Tiffani Janes. Will you marry me?"

      "Francois?" I stood up, in utter shock. "I-I..."
      "I'm really hoping that that's a yes."
      "Yes! Yes, it's a yes! Oui, oui! I'll marry you." He slipped the ring onto my finger.
      "I love you so much." He whispered in my ear as he hugged me.
      "I love you too. More than you know." I fell backwards onto the bed, pulling him with me.

I was going to be married to Francois. My heart fluttered with excitement. There where so many details... when, where, who. We just had to tell my parents. My frail sixty and sixty-five year old parents. There health was slowly declining, day by day, I knew they'd appreciate the news. They'd appreciate it; love it, or they'd have a heart attack. I was hoping for reaction number one. We pulled away from each other.  "I just want to stay here all day." I whispered. "Curled up in your arms."

     "So do I." He whispered back, kissing my cheek. 
     "But we have to pack." I sighed. I stood up, slipped my clothing back on, and grabbed my suitcase. Francois followed suit.We were going to China! I was so excited; I'd never been to any other country other than France. I'd wanted to visit the Parisian outskirts again, but Francois insisted on China. "I lived in France my whole life. If we go there, it's like visiting my hometown. Not a real vacation." He joked.
       The day turned to night, then day again and soon we found ourselves hurrying to the airport, my parents driving us.
      "Mom, Harry." I said, nervously in the back of their car. "Francois and I have an announcement."
     "What is it?" My Mother, who was driving, turned to face me.
     "Eyes on the road! Eyes on the road!" I shouted as we swerved into the left lane, luckily no cars where coming.
     "How about we tell when we're at the airport?" Francois suggested.
     "Good idea." I agreed. We parked and Francois and Harry unloaded our baggage. We went into the airport, until my parent couldn't come with us any further.
     "What's your announcement, honey?" Mom asked.
    "Well," Francois put his arm around my shoulder, "Francois and I," I grew increasingly nervous. "Are getting married!"
     "Congratulations!" My Mom said. "This is so exciting, when will the wedding be? Oh and the cake and dresses-Tiff." She paused her rambling. "Are you pregnant? Because your other two siblings married because of children."
      "She's not-" Francois stuttered, embarrassed.
      "I'm not-"
      "So no grandbabies?"
      "You two better hurry on." Harry said.
      "Come here, you two!" My Mom hugged us both, then Harry did. 
      "Hard to believe," Harry whispered in my ear. "I've seen you struggle through high school and middle school, and now you're getting married...."
       "I love you all!" I said, as I walked away, my hand in Francois's.
       I fell asleep on the plane, my head resting on my fiance's shoulder. Fiance. I loved that word. Francois and I where to be married...we had decided that we would wait on a wedding ceremony, maybe a year or two. Enjoy the life we had right now, before the wedding bills piled up. There was so much to do. We both agreed on a private ceremony; something nice and quiet. I suggested we could sign the official papers in America, but have the informal ring exchange somewhere romantic. I knew it was a big hassle to get married in another country, so we could officially get married at Town Hall, in America, so we wouldn't have to deal with legal hassles and paperwork.
      China was wonderful. I loved the architecture and the Asian culture. My favorite foreign country  was still France, but China was a close second. Of course, I was still interested in visiting Italy and Hawaii, which wasn't a foreign country, but quite exotic compared to New York. We checked into the hotel, then went to our room.

      "M'lady." Francois said,  carrying me out onto the balcony as I giggled at his Olde English accent.
      "Look at the scenery..."  
      "Beautiful isn't it? Almost as beautiful as a certain girl I happen to be marrying."
      "Francois," I giggled, blushing. I kissed him, slowly.
      "Get a room." A blonde American sneered, who was standing on the balcony a few down from us.
     "Come on." I sighed, not wanting to stop. We rented two bikes, then we pedaled to The Scholar's Garden.
      "Something about the garden...it makes me feel peaceful."
      "Zen." I commented.
     "Exactly. Zen." We held hands and walked through the garden. "Look! A chess table. Want to play?"
     "Sure." I said, even though I only had a vague knowledge of chess. The queen was more powerful than the king, just like a real relationship, and the ponies where knights. 
     We sat down, and I went first. I moved a pawn forwards two, he moved his knight. Time ticked away, as we played. 
      "Check mate!" I exclaimed.

     "Check mate?" He asked, shocked; stumped. "You win." He smiled.
     "Do I get my prize?"
     "Prize?"
     "You silly." I kissed him. "It's getting dark. We better go back to the hotel."
     We pedaled into the darkness. In our hotel room, we celebrated a little. We had two weeks in China, which we spent exploring the gardens and temples, shopping for souvenirs, and celebrating a lot. 
      "Tiffani, are you all right?" It was the tenth day or our vacation and I had felt sick since the seventh. 
       "I'm fine." I lied. I had been stuck leaning over the commode half the morning and my period was late.
       "Are you sure?" He propped me up on the bed. "Tiffani, we could go back to New York."
       "We still have four more days left. I'll survive." I joked.
       "Are you sure?" 
      "It's probably just something I ate."
      "Tiffani. I'm a doctor. You can't lie to me. This could be something serious. 'Something I ate' does not last this long."
       "Francois." I smiled. He was so protective. It was sweet of him to worry, but I honestly thought it was nothing. I hadn't told him that my period was late, right now he just assumed serious food poisoning. I should have been able to put two and two together, but I didn't. "I love you. Don't worry."
        "I love you, too. That's why I'm worried." 
       "That's so sweet-Bathroom! Bathroom!" I stood up. He helped me to the bathroom. 
       "Tiffani." He said after I cleaned myself up again. "We're going home."
        "Okay." I didn't argue this time. We packed up and drove to the airport. I bought last minute tickets back to New York, USA. On the flight, I stood silently, in the airplane's restroom. I was waiting. I'd bought a test from a store at the airport. Another minute. Then I'd know. I took a deep breath when my iPhone timer went  off. I looked at the test, nervously. I stared at the results. This is fabulous! I squealed in my head.  I just had to tell Francois.
      I walked back to my seat, nervous. Should I tell him? Now or at home? What would he think? We'd wanted this to happen. I felt nervous and sweaty. I rubbed my stomach. Life was growing in there! Even though I was only a week along, I felt jitters. I'd tell him at home. Somewhere special. 
    As we hopped into our taxi and drove home, I felt excited. I couldn't wait  much longer to tell him. We wanted this for two years. It's cruelty to keep it from him much longer. 
    "Francois." I said, slowly as we stood in our backyard. "I-I have something to tell you." 
    "Do you fell alright? I promise, we're taking you to the hospital, soon." 
    "Francois...I don't need to go to the hospital. Well, I probably will. But I know why I was all blah!"
    "Are you alright?" Concern flooded his face. 
    "Yes. I have fabulous news." I smiled, excitement pouring out of me. "I'm-we're- we'll be adding a new member to the family! I'm pregnant!"

     "Tiffani!" He smiled, hugging me. "This is great. I'm-we've-two years-" He rubbed my belly "Bonjour petite chérie." Hello little darling. He was going to be a great dad. "I can't believe that we're going to be parents..." 
      "I know...it's just that. We're ready. Aren't we?"
      "I don't think that anyone can be completely ready for parenthood...Tiffani. I know you'll be a great mum."
      "And you will be a fabulous papa." I said, using the French term for dad.
     Mommy. I was going to be a mommy. Realization hit me. Mother. Mama. Mom. Mum. Ma. This is what I'm going to be! There isn't any turning back now. As I chatted with my fiance by the pool, I knew everything was perfect. The pieces where falling into place. And I loved it.

2.5: Love You to the Moon and Back

Six Months Later....
    "I can't believe you came." I whispered. I was still in shock. I'd been in a coma for five months and awake for one. I was  stabilized and could be released soon; the doctors had ordered I stay another few days, just to make sure that everything was fine.
     "Tiffani...when I heard what happened, my world stopped. Every rational thought I'd ever thought went out the window. I-I love you. I had to be there to support you. To see you."
      "Still," I frailly smiled. "Six months. What about you job?"
      "I have a surprise I know you don't like them, but I hope you like this one."
      "Francois....I love surprises now. I-the crash-and....I have something to tell you. On my way home, I was coming from the doctor's. I -I thought I was pregnant."
       "What? Where you?" He looked shocked.
       "No...I had cysts. I was planning to visit you and tell you everything when the crash happened. I fainted from low blood pressure, the cysts caused me to, not to sound gross, but I couldn't keep much down, so I didn't eat a lot, and then I hit my head on the steering wheel and went into the coma....they removed the cysts; I'm fine know, but it made me realize everything. I though I'd be ready for children. I had a whole life plan, but you can't plan life. Somethings just happen and you roll with the punches.....I don't mean to sound like a teenager who uses the words to skip class and not do homework, I just. You said you have to live in the moment. And you do. You can think ahead and do what you hope will have the outcome of the future you want, but you can't plan everything. I have you, and I love you, and-" I began tearing up.
       "Tiffani." He smiled. "It's poetic."
       "Really? You don't hate me?'
       "Why would I hate you?" He looked concerned.
       "Because, I wasn't eating and if I really was pregnant I could have ruined the baby's health and life and-"
        "Don't worry. You could have been, but you aren't."
        "Francois...what's the surprise?"
        "I moved to America. It was easier, I could see you everyday and my job wasn't exactly picking up...I had my dual citizenship, so it wasn't to complex. Your parents let me stay in the guest bedroom and I'm saving for a home of my own. I work at the hospital."
        "Francois!" I gasped. He moved to America. For me. And there was a pretty good chance I'd never rise from my coma.
        "One more thing," he smiled. "People call me Franc."

        "Franc? Like Frank? Why? Your name is so gorgeous."
        "I was a doctor, the other guys though Francois sounded like a model." He laughed. "Americans aren't use to the French names."
        "That they aren't." I agreed. "Francois, Franc, can I still call you Francois?"
        "Of course."
        "What-what do you thin-k-k of children? If I really was pregnant? Your reaction. Or just having children. In the future...."
        "My first reaction would probably be along the lines of 'Hell, what  do I do? How can this be happening?' the second would be 'I'll love and support you no matter what.'." He looked at me and took my hand. "And I will. I'll be there for you, no matter what. When would I want children? I'm not sure...when would you?"
        "I'm not sure....I mean maybe after marriage.  But, if somebody's in a loving, committed relationship with one another and they are planning on staying with each other for the rest of their lives....I wouldn't say no to having children. If two people love each other and are going to stay with each other, it doesn't matter if there's a ring or not. I don't need a ring to decide to have children."
       "So you don't want to get married?" He teased.
       "I do...I just don't want marriage to be this thing we get just so we can start a family. And children. Not right now....I mean....you're twenty-four and I'm twenty-one....I'd rather wait. I don't have an age."
        "You don't need one."
        "Francois." I tried standing.
        "Tiffani. you need to rest."
        "You can help." I kissed him and he smiled.  I laid back down and he sat on the edge of my bed. I held his hand and tried pulling him down.
       "Do you really want to? At the hospital?"
       "Six months." I sighed. "Without it. I get a little slack, don't I?" I began kissing him.
       "Remember what we just said?"
       "Risk it?" 
       "Tiffani."
        "Fine." I sighed, kissing him.
        "You need your rest."
        "It'll relax me if we-"
        "Tiffani." He gave me his playfully. "Once you're out of the hospital. Then,"
        "Your all mine." I winked, pulling him closer.
        "Tiff! Great news." My Mother came into my room.
        "Oh! Um, bonjour Mrs. Laurel." He jumped up, away from the hospital bed.
        "Franc, call me Alyce. Tiff, they're releasing you tomorrow." She didn't seem to notice our make out session.
        "Great. Great. Tomorrow, huh?" I smiled seductively, or at least I hope it came off that way, at Francois.
        "Tiff, would you like a party?"
        "Party? Why?" I asked confused.
        "You just, or will, get out of the hospital after six months. It calls for a celebration."
        "Mom," I laughed. "The bottle of wine Francois sneaked in and the flowers and balloons and jewelry and everything Harry and Evelyn and Alex and Cassie and Jamie and you all got me is plenty. Plenty."
         "Okay." She sighed. "Evelyn and Alex are bringing the twins by later. And maybe we can visit Cassie and Jamie later. They've been on their toes, with the triplet and everything."
         You miss a lot in six months. Cassie, who had been two months into her pregnancy popped out three perfectly healthy babies about three weeks ago, two girls named Tabitha and Consuelo and a boy named Caleb. Evelyn hadn't been as lucky. The boys, Evan and Sam, where two and a half months early and ended up having to stay in the hospital for weeks. They'd been stabilized two weeks ago and Evelyn was excited to bring them on their first official outing. So far, I'd only seen pictures of all five beauties.
          "Are they still planning on moving out?" I asked. Evelyn had insisted that with  seven of us packed into the home, it was just to cramped. Everyone, except Alex, who always agreed with his wife no matter what, protested. From what I understood, if I hadn't gone into a coma, she and Alex would have been moved out all ready.
       "Yes." She sighed. My babies....all grown up.
      "Hey, you have grandbabies now, to spoil."
      "Makes me feel so old. I'm only forty-eight....then again, what do I expect. I had a baby when I was nineteen." She laughed, a slight unusual bitterness in her tone. "Tiff...this may be personal, but please. Don't rush family. Enjoy your life while you're young."
     "Mom, I'm twenty-two."
      "Try being fort-eight. You'll think you're all grown up now, but trust me. You have a good eight years."
         "Well," Francois looked uncomfortable in the middle of the mother-daughter conversation. "I have to get to work. Kinda convenient, if you think about it. I'm mean the wreck isn't-"
         "I know." I smiled at him. He leaned down and kissed my cheek.
         "Love you." He whispered in my ear.
         "I love you, too." I whispered back. He stood up and walked out of the room.
         "Franc's a nice man."
         "Thanks?"
         "Can I not compliment him without a question arousing?"
         "Hey guys!" A chipper voice said. "We brought Sam and Evan, come on honey, over here." She pulled Alex over to the spot she wanted him.
         "Hey, Evelyn. Are you alright?"
         "She loves parenting. Loves it." Alex sighed.
         "And you don't?" I teased him.
         "I do, it's just we decided that we'd do these weekly shifts of who gets up when and does what. Evelyn's extremelly good at getting out of anything involving early mornings or late nights."
          Sex.  She mouthed, out of Alex's view. Can get a guy to jump through hoops. "Annnnnnd, I get this great little energy thing, the doctor gave me these vitamins and they're super!"
         "Great. Glad you like it."
         "Yeah! I really want another baby. Maybe after the twins grow up a little. What about it, boo?"
         "We'll talk." He whispered. "Well, nice talk. We really should be going."
         "Bye, Tiff." They walked out just as quickly as they'd come in.
         "Well, that was...interesting....to say the least."
         "First time parents. They'll be a little crazy."
         "You're telling me." I muttered. Then, I let out a huge yawn.
         "Are you getting sleepy, honey?"
         "I'm," yawn, "fine."
         "Goodnight." She exited the room.

Francois's Point of View.....

    "What's it mean if a girl says she doesn't want or need a ring to start a family? Is she using reverse psychology? Am I suppose to propose? Or does that mean she wants space. She isn't going to break up with me? Is she? No, no, she can't. I love her. I-"
     "Um, Franc." One of the nurses said.
     "Hm? What?"
     "You might want to focus on the patient."
     "Oh, right." I blushed. "Sorry." I went back to looking down the man's throat. "You've done the test" I asked.
      "Yes." The nurse replied. "You might want to take some personal time before you talk a patient to death." S
      "And if she-"
      "Here." She handed me the results back, then exited the room. I reviewed them, then came to a conclusion.
       "You have strep. This," I scribbled a prescription onto a notepad, then tore it out. "Will help."
       "Thanks." We went over the basic end of appointment formalities, then I turned to the empty room. "How do you stump a Harvard medical school student?" I asked the room. "Have him have a conversation with his girlfriend."


Tomorrow....Tiff's Point of View....
  
    "Jamie and Cassie sent their annual New Year's card." I said to my Mother, who was cooking
dinner. It was January seventh and she'd just turned fifty-two.
     "Oh, let me see!" She happily exclaimed. "Oh, look at the children! They're growing so big!"

     "The triplets turned three not long ago."
     "We really should visit them."
     "They invited us to their  late New Year's party, remember?"
     "Oh yes. I remember now." A look of confusion, then remembrance flickered across her face. Mom had been forgetful lately. Harry was fifty-seven and helped her remember things, but I still disliked the fact that my parents where aging so quickly. Harry wasn't my real father, but he felt more like it them Johnny did. I hadn't seen him in years. I don't even know if he's alive anymore. And I don't even care.
      "We probably should get going-It's already eight-thirty. We're late."
      "I'll get Harry.It's lonely...Evelyn and Alex and Evan and Sam gone. Tiff, are you moving?"
      "No, Mum. You signed the house over to me, remember?"
      "Oh, yes! I signed the house over to my daughter."
      "Are you ready?" Harry asked.
      "Yes." Mom smiled.
      "Tiffani," Francois said. "I have something to show you."
      "Can you do it later? I have to go with-"
      "Tiff, just stay." My Mother smiled, dazed.
      "Um, okay." then the couple walked to the garage, gone. "What is it?" I smiled, curiously.
      "I'll show you." He took my hand and led me upstairs.
      "Ow!"  My shirt had caught on the railing.
      "Need to change?" 
      "No...I was just going to take it off. Unless, you'd prefer I not." It was unnecessary for me to, but I was eager to have a little fun. This just helped push everything in that direction.
       "I don't mind." He winked, as we walked into the study.
      When Mom gave me the house, Francois and I had decided to do a little redecorating, mostly by getting rid of Alex's old room and redecorating it into a research area for Francois and a writer's nook for me. Mom and Harry had moved into the apartment like area above the garage that was separate from the rest of the house, allowing me to move into a larger space with Francois. Currently, my old bedroom was empty.
     "Tiff," He had positioned the telescope in a certian direction, "Look through here."
     "Okay." I bent down.
     "Do you see the bright beam of light?"
     "Uh huh."
     "That's Jupiter. Now, if you turn the scope slightly this way," He directed me. "You see a moon."
     "Wow..." I whispered. It must be huge to be able to be seen from Earth.
     "Now, if you had a higher powered telescope, you could see another moon that's a third the size of that moon." He showed me a photograph that I assumed was the moon that I couldn't see. "This," He pointed to the p
icture, "is Tiffoid 003-X."
      "You named a moon after me!" I gasped. "How?"
      "The Holmberg-Weider Astronomical Society found a new moon. I'd been doing a little astrological work on the side to help with my logic as a doctor and heard that they where needing a name. I had a friend who's an astrophysicist at the science facility, pulled a few strings, and named the moon. Tiffani, I love you to the moon and back. I wanted something to show it."
       "I love it. I love you. Thank you." Some people might assume it was nerdy, but it didn't seem that way. It wasn't a star, it was an actual moon. A moon named after me. Me. "You know, you don't need a moon to show me that you love me. I believe it no matter what.." I kissed him on the cheek and he picked me up and pressed me against the wall.
       I loved this man. He was sweet, spontaneous, romantic, and everything I dreamed of. I loved the future. Together. As long as I had him, we had each other, everything would be okay. Everything.