“Man, am I glad you’re here, I gotta talk to you…” said Joseph, shutting the door behind him quietly.  Gabriel looked concerned.

“Did she tell you?”  Joseph stared at Gabriel.

“What the hell are you talking about?  Tell me what?  Did you know something and didn’t tell me?”

“Joey, calm down,”

“No. What the fuck are you talking about, Gabe?  Did you already know she was pregnant?”

“Yes, but…”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“Look, man…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Can I just…”

“How long have you known?”

“About a week or so, I don’t remember…”

“And you thought it was a good idea to just leave me not knowing this?  What the hell were you thinking?”

“Will you just stop?  Jesus, man, I’m trying to tell you what happened!”  Joseph stared at him incredulously. Gabriel looked back at him, standing his ground.  “She wanted to tell you.  She really cares about you, man.  She didn’t know how you’d react, and from the looks of it, it’s good that I cam by when I did, is she in there?” he asked, craning his neck to try and get a look inside the apartment.

“Yeah, she’s in there.  And she’s going to be fine, but look man, I just don’t know if I can keep it going with her after this.  I can’t do this with her.”

“Yes you can.  You can’t just drop her because of this, man.  It’ll destroy her.  When she came here she was petrified of everyone.  You should be glad that Becca found her before someone else did.”  He sighed, “look, man, you know she loves you.  And I know you love her.  You can’t just leave her right now.  It’s gonna be hard, I know, but if you drop her like that, she’ll never make it alone.”  Joseph stared back at his friend, still unsure of what to do.  Both of them were way too young to deal with a kid, he knew that, but something about the way Gabriel was reassuring him made him feel like the situation wasn’t as bad as he had thought.

“I can’t raise a kid, man.  Are you kidding me?  I can barely take care of myself.”

“I know, dude, I’ve seen your apartment. But look, man, I know that it’s in you to do this.  There’s something special about her, I can feel it.  I’ve never seen you the way you are around her.  You look at her…  And the way she looks at you…” he trailed off.  Just then, Mary opened the door.

“Hey, Gabe,” she said, softly.  There was still a slight tremble in her voice that Joseph could hear.  He looked at her and smiled, then to Gabriel.

“Come on in, man,” he said motioning towards the inside of the apartment.  They entered and closed the door. “You want a brew?”

“Nah, I’m good, man.  How’s it going, Mary?”

“Good, what brings you around?”

“Just checkin’ in on the power couple,” he said, looking at Mary knowingly.  Her eyes got wide for just a second, then relaxed.

“I told him.”

“I know.”

“Still here,” Joseph chimed in.

“I know, buddy, and I really came by because I wanted to talk to both of you.”  He looked at Joseph.  “Joey. Sit.” Joseph sat.  Gabriel looked from Joseph to Mary, back and forth.  “You guys both need to calm down.  It’s not like you’re in trouble.  Mary, this is scary shit, I know, but just relax, he’s not going anywhere.”  Joseph looked confused.  Gabriel turned to Joseph. “Joey, you’re not going anywhere.  You can do this.  You have to trust her.”  Now both of them had confused looks on their faces. Since when had Gabriel become so responsible and fatherly?  They looked at each other.  “You guys have plenty of people that are more that willing to help out here, you just have to ask.  Best of all,” he paused, looking at each of them and smiling, “you’ve got me.”

“Thank you, Gabe,” said Mary, quietly.

“Thanks, man.”

“Look, you guys mean the world to me, and I want you to be happy.  I see how happy you all make each other, and I just hope that I can keep that going for a while.  It’s going to be hard, I know, but you’ll always have each other, and if you don’t, then I’ll be here to put you two back together.  Where you should be.”  Mary and Joseph looked at Gabriel.  Somewhere between what Joseph had known and today, Gabriel had grown.  He had somehow matured beyond his years in just a few short weeks that it had at first bothered Joseph, but now he could see that it was for the best.

“Thank you, man. Really.”

“Of course, man, you’re like my brother.”  He hesitated, looking at each of them, then said, cautiously, “Now, two things.”

“Go ahead, Gabe,” said Mary.

“First, and there’s no reason to get nervous here, but Mary’s sister called me this morning.”

“What?  How did she…?”

“Never mind that right now, because there’s still part two.” Mary’s eyes widened and her face looked panicked.  Confused, Joseph looked at Mary, then back at Gabriel.

“Second,” he began, apprehensively, “she said that Jacob was gone.”

“How… You… We… Have we ever even…?”

“No, look, I wanted to tell you sooner, but I just couldn’t figure out how to, you’re so sweet, and I never wanted to hurt you, but I just couldn’t think of any other way…”

“But… You’re…?”

“Please, Joey, please don’t ask me to explain, you have to trust me.”  Joseph had given up searching for something to say.  He coughed slightly trying to clear the knot that had built up in his throat.  Mary’s eyes began to swim with tears as she waited for him to say something.

“When… When did this happen?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, staring out the window, “I just… I don’t know.”

“Well, when did you find out?”

“A few weeks ago.  I was feeling sick… I thought it was… something else.”

He stood up and walked around the tiny room scratching his head anxiously.  The more he thought about what she had said, the more confused he became.  Soon, confusion was replaced by irritation.  “Why now?  Why did you have to wait until I was in love with you?” he asked, furiously.  His head whipped around so violently that Mary shrank back into her seat.

“I… I didn’t know how to tell you… I thought you’d never forgive me.”  Joseph glared at her for a minute, and then his expression softened.

“Sorry… I just… That didn’t come out right… I…”  His voice trailed off as he glanced around the room.  His eyes finally settled on Mary and he could see that she was crying silently.  He touched her shoulder consolingly, but pulled it away almost immediately.  She had flinched just slightly enough for Joseph to notice.  He stared at the miserable shag carpet that lay on the floor, realizing what he had just done.  He tried to think of something to say to her, but nothing sounded good enough.  All he could think of was the lousy carpet in his lousy apartment.

“Look… I… I’m sorry… It’s just… You’re pregnant?”

“Yes,” she sniffled, wiping her face and finally looking at him. They stared at each other for a long time, Joseph was trying to sort out the sudden shock he had received. Th sun broke through the window, casting yellow beams across Mary’s face.  Suddenly, Joseph saw a very different face staring back at him.  She was terrified, he could tell, but there was a certain courage that shown through on her face.  A courage that Joseph had only seen the first time they had met, and only for a moment.  He remembered all the stories she had told him, about her family, about Jacob, and knew that she couldn’t do this alone.  He walked over to where she was sitting and sat down beside her.

“Have you seen a doctor?” he asked her, softly.

“No. Not yet anyway,” she said looking up at him through the tears that filled her eyes.  Joseph looked back at her and smiled.  He leaned forward and touched his forehead with hers gently.  Mary understood.  She slowly smiled.

Despite his smiling and reassurance, Joseph’s head was dizzy with the still fresh information he had been given.  Obviously the baby wasn’t his, but he couldn’t just leave her.  What had he been thinking? She was already damaged goods, and he had fallen in love with her.  What did he really know about this girl, anyway?  What information could he really trust?  Just then, he heard a knock on his front door.  He looked up, then back at Mary.

“I should get that.”

“You go,” she said, wiping the tears and smeared makeup off of her face, “I’ll get myself cleaned up.”  She smiled, kissed his cheek and nudged him towards the door, “Go.”  He turned from her and walked to the front door.  When he reached the door, with his hand on the doorknob, he turned back towards his room concernedly.  He shook his head and opened the door.

The new site.

His eyes snapped open as his mind reeled.  He had completely forgotten that today was the day he started at one of the several new housing developments that seemed to be popping up like weeds these days.  It was good work for a carpenter, but only if that carpenter could remember to wake up on time to make it to the site.  He jumped out of bed, grabbed a pair of jeans and the cleanest t-shirt he could find, and ran out the door.

“Damnit,” he thought, “how did I forget?”  He got into his car and slammed the door.  As he got to the end of his street, he searched around in his pockets for his phone.  He knew he had it with him, he had just checked it before he left his apartment.  He skidded to a halt at the end of the street and something small and plastic flew off his car and clattered onto the street.  “Damnit!” he yelled as he got out and picked up the pieces of his phone and put them back together.  The familiar tone of it turning back on hit his ears as he settled back into his car thinking, “what else could possibly go wrong today?”  Just as he had pulled into the intersection, though, he found out exactly what else could go wrong.  A flash of blue was all he saw before being jolted in his seat as he heard the crunch two cars smashing together.  “Damnit!”  He looked up to see the driver of the other car get out, his face red with rage.

“What the fuck were you thinking, asshole?” said the driver, “Don’t you watch where you’re going?”  Joseph slowly climbed out of his car and checked the damage to the driver’s truck.

“It doesn’t look too bad.” He muttered as his face grew hotter and hotter and he jammed his hands into his pockets.

“What do you mean, ‘it doesn’t look too bad’?  Are you fucking blind?” yelled the driver.  The damage was minimal on the truck, nothing that a quick paint job couldn’t fix; it seemed that Joseph’s car had taken most of the damage.  “I hope you’ve got insurance, you prick,” added the driver as he stormed back to his own car, searching for a pen and paper.

“Look, man, I don’t think we need to go that far…”  Joseph started.

“You better have insurance, kid, or so help me…”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” Joseph muttered.  He got back into his car sheepishly and searched around his glove box for his information.  “This day can’t possibly get any worse,” he thought as he handed the insurance card to the driver.

Joseph returned home at the end of the day feeling completely exhausted and emotionally drained.  He hadn’t eaten much with his parents, something that they had grown used to since Joseph had left home.  He slipped some cash into an envelope, wrote ‘Rent – 205’ on it, slipped it under his landlord’s door and shut the door to his apartment.  It was a small, one-bedroom apartment with a tiny kitchen and living space that he usually kept a mess.  He liked it better that way.  He settled into his tattered, garage-sale easy chair and switched on his television.  He knew nothing was on; nothing was ever on any of the five channels he got for free with his coat-hanger antenna, but he flipped around searching for something to occupy his mind.  He finally settled on what seemed to be an endless infomercial about knives or something, walked over to his tiny desk and took out a small tattered notebook, flipped to an empty page, and began to sketch out what he thought was to be yet another of one of his many failed designs.  This time was different, though.  His pencil moved quickly and freely over the page like a humming bird, darting this way and that, perfectly shading this wall, intricately detailing the next.  His eyes grew wider as his hand guided the pencil across the page, as if controlled by some outside force, something with which he was not familiar.  There was nothing to distract him this time, only the sound of the commercial announcer shouting something about kitchenware.  The more the sketch developed, the more excited he became, drawing faster and faster, this one was perfect, shading, rendering, it would be better than any other he had done before, the lines were perfect, the design flawless, until…

His phone’s piercing shriek jolted him, just for a second, just long enough to break his concentration, causing him to break the tip of his pencil and draw a dark, fat line straight through the sketch.  “Damnit!”  He blinked hard once, grabbed his broken phone and flipped it open.  “Yeah?” he demanded into the phone.

“Joey!  It’s Gabe.  Where are you, man?”

“Home?” asked Joseph, unsure of where he was apparently supposed to be.

“Are you busy?  We’ve been waiting here for over an hour, man.”

Joseph thought hard for a second and rubbed his eye with his smudged palm.  “Not anymore,” he mumbled, almost sounding irritated.  “Wait, who’s been where for over an hour?” he asked, suddenly completely aware that there was something else he was supposed to do today.

“We’ve been here; John, Abel, Riz, and me.  Who did you think I meant?”

“Sorry, man…  I don’t know… It’s been a rough day.”

“Well then get down here, man, there’s a whole bunch of girls here with us!  One of them was asking about you.”

“Really?” asked Joseph, hopefully.  “Just give me a few minutes to change; I just got in from work.”

“Ok, man, but hurry up already!”

Joseph closed his phone and got up, changed into some fresh clothes, grabbed his keys, and flew out the door, almost knocking over his neighbor who was bringing in her groceries.  “Sorry, Mrs. Stewart,” he said as he dashed down the hall, out onto the street and jumped into his car.

As he walked up to where his friends were seated in the bed of Gabriel’s truck, he could hear that Gabriel and Riz were already in a heated argument.

“Are you really going to stand there and tell me that Alex Lifeson is a better guitar player than Eric Clapton?  How can you even think that?” demanded Riz.

“Lifeson’s solos are so much better than Clapton’s, man; they’re far more intricate, he was doing things Clapton couldn’t even dream of,” Gabriel shot back, “YYZ?  Spirit of Radio?  You can’t even tell me that Clapton could come close to that.”

“Ever heard of a little band called ‘The Yardbirds?  Derek and the Dominoes?  Cream?  Songs like ‘White Room’, ‘Layla’, and ‘Cocaine’?  Come on, man, Clapton was and still remains one of the greatest guitar gurus that ever lived.”

“I can’t even believe what I’m hearing!  He plays guitar and synths, man!  When have you seen Clapton do that?  Sure, he’s got that whole ‘slowhand’ thing, but Lifeson is all about pure talent and imagination, man.  On top of that, he’s got to be able to keep up with Pert’s crazy drumming, what with the size of his kit far out shadowing any other player out there.  Now, tell me that Clapton could keep up with that.”

“I always liked Gilmour better than either of them,” Joseph said as he approached them, smiling.

“Gilmour?  Man, forget Gilmour; tell this guy that Clapton’s just as overrated as John Lennon and the Rolling Stones,” said Gabriel, as he greeted Joseph with a smile.

John spoke up from the back of the truck, “What about Jimi, man?”

“Yeah, what about Jimi?” asked Riz.

“Yeah,” said Gabriel.  He smiled and looked off as the rest of the group nodded in agreement.  Joseph loved afternoons like this.  The view of the sun slowly setting over the rooftops down the hill calmed him and the idle conversations with his friends made him happy.  They were at the same convenience store that they always went to, a small mom-and-pop store that they had been coming to since they were children.  They never did anything else, and it was just how he liked it.

“Hey, Gabe, didn’t you say there were some girls here?” said Joseph, suddenly.

“See?  I knew that would get him down here!” Gabriel said, triumphantly.  He spread his arms, smiled broadly and gave Joseph a ‘so, you hate me’ look.  “Look, man,” he started, “I knew it was the only way to get you down here.  You’re a sucker for that type of thing.”

“What ever happened to that chick you were seeing, man?” asked Abel.  The others turned their heads from Joseph to him with quizzical looks on their faces, unclear as to what Abel was talking about.  “What?” he asked, looking around at the confused faces that stared at him.  “Weren’t you seeing some chick for a while?”  Abel always seemed to be a bit slower than any of the other guys.  Joseph had been seeing someone, but she was about 3000 miles away.  Plus, that was almost three years ago and Joseph didn’t particularly want or need anyone reminding him of her.  She had left and moved across the country when her parents had decided that Joseph was ‘no good for their daughter’.  He wanted to run off with her and start a new life, they would find some mythical town, get work, and raise a family; he had envisioned it so well.  Except she wasn’t quite as committed to it as Joseph was and she had made that quite clear the night before she left the town for good.  Joseph spent the next two years in denial of the whole thing, staring at every girl that reminded him of her closely until he was sure that it wasn’t her.  He blamed himself and thought that if he had only given just a little bit more, she would have left with him and he would have been happy.

“Actually, man, there was a chick asking for you earlier,” Gabriel suddenly remembered.

“Hmm?” said Joseph.  He shook himself and said, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, ok Gabe, you got me.”

“Seriously, man, she was looking for you, said she knew you always hung out here.  She said to tell you that Becca wanted you to call her.  She was really hot, too, man.”  He wolf-whistled loudly and looked at Joseph, clearly impressed.

“Becca?  That’s my cousin, man.”  He said, smiling.  “You’ve met her before, too.”  He began to laugh as he watched the look on Gabriel’s face change from admiration to sheepish realization.

“That was not your cousin, man.  Last time I saw her she was thirteen.”

“Yeah, and now she’s nineteen.  It’s been six years, man.”  He began to laugh at Gabriel’s embarrassment, but suddenly stopped, “You know she’s a stripper now, right?  She left home, moved out here and started dancing over at that 70’s place.”

“The Roadhouse?  Wow, classy joint,” he said, sarcastically.

“Hey, man, she’s still my cousin.  Plus, she’s one of the sweetest people in my family.  She just makes a living dancing.”

“Yeah, she was a pretty sweet kid.”

“Did she say what she wanted?”

“Not really, she just wanted you to call her.  She looked pretty excited, though.  Must be something big.”

“Yeah…”  Joseph looked off again; it had begun to get dark.  The last few minutes of daylight left seemed to be struggling to keep their hold on the horizon as a blanket of dark blue consumed the sky.  One by one, tiny pinpricks of light appeared as it got darker.  He began to think as he watched his friends joking with one another, John and Abel sharing a cigarette.  He thought back over the day’s events, going over each one in his mind, the accident, the new job, the monstrous foreman, his parents, and then his sketch.  He thought long about that sketch, trying to re-create it in his mind, but each time he got nearly finished, his mind went blank.  After a while he stood up, walked around to the inside of the truck, took Gabriel’s iPod and searched through the songs looking for something other than the Carpenter’s  song that seemed to have been on a loop since he had gotten there.  He finally settled on ‘Take It Back’ from The Division Bell, and settled back into the truck bed.

“Excellent choice, my good man,” said Gabriel and offered his hand to Joseph for a high-five.  It caught Joseph off guard for a second; he had lost himself in thought for a second, but reached out his hand and slapped Gabriel’s.

“I’ve always been partial to Gilmour,” he reminded him.

He returned home late that night, looked around his apartment, and went over the day’s events in his mind again, remembering that he had to call his cousin.  “It’s too late now,” he thought.  He would call her tomorrow, it was Saturday and he’d have more time.  He climbed into his small futon, switched on his television to the knives again and drifted off to sleep, still thinking of the sketch that he had almost finished…

He awoke the next morning to the shrill blaring of the phone in his ear.  He blinked hard a couple of times and tried to focus; it had been a rough night.  He had been having the same dream over and over about his drawing, a huge boat, and then someone shouting in his ear.  He tried to make sense of it all but the persistent blaring of the phone distracted him.  He frowned at it trying to focus on the screen, and then finally flipped it open to answer.

“Hello?” he mumbled.

“Joey?  I didn’t wake you up, did I?  Oh, god, I did, didn’t I?” Rebecca asked.

“Well, your timing could’ve been better, but…”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.  I’ll call you back later…”

“No, no,” he cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes, “no, it’s alright.  What time is it, anyway?”

“Twelve.  I didn’t want to wake you, really, your friend gave me your number and I had to talk to you and I couldn’t wait, but I really didn’t want to wake you up.  Oh, jeez, I’m sorry.  Look, just call me when you’re awake, ok?”

“Bec, it’s ok, really…” but before he could find out why she had called, he heard the phone click.  “Damnit!”  He looked around the apartment, switched off his television, and walked into the bathroom.  He took a long, hot shower and threw on some clothes, walked into the kitchen and made two pieces of toast.  He sat at the table and ate breakfast quickly; he wanted to know what his cousin had wanted to talk to him so badly about.  When he had finished, he opened his phone and dialed Rebecca’s phone number.

“Joey?”

“Hey.  What’s up?”

“Hey, are you free right now?”

“Right now?  Yeah, what’s so urgent?  You’re not in trouble or anything, are you?”

“No, it’s not really about me.  Look, can you meet me somewhere?  I want to talk to you.  I’m not in trouble, so don’t freak out, just meet me at…  Do you even drink coffee?  Whatever, just meet me over at the coffee shop by your place.”

“Ok…  When?”

“Now?  You weren’t busy, were you?”

“No, it’s no problem.  I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

“Ok, Joey-boy, see you soon.”  He closed his phone and rubbed his forehead.  He hated being called ‘Joey-boy’ and she knew that.  He lived with it mostly because she was the only one who called him that anymore, a small reminder of when they were younger.  He hadn’t seen his Rebecca in three years and he liked to picture her as the tiny, freckle-faced little girl he had grown up playing with.  He grabbed his keys and stepped out, locked his door and headed to the coffee shop.  It was a bright and sunny day, but that wasn’t rare for this time of year.  As he would pass people on the street, he kept his head down, as if he was trying to blend in with the pavement.  He got to the coffee shop in a few minutes and as soon as he walked in, he was greeted by an overenthusiastic blur of bright orange hair.

“Joey-boy!”  She ran up to him and hugged him tightly.  Rebecca had changed since Joseph had seen her last, she had gotten taller and her face had lost the adorable freckles and chipmunk cheeks that made her look so young.  She had a slim dancer’s body that Joseph thought might have been put to better use in a ballet rather than a sleazy club, but didn’t say anything about it.  He noticed that she had also gotten her lip and nose pierced, as if she was trying as hard as she could to upset her parents.  They sat down in an empty table near the back of the shop and Joseph ordered a black coffee.

“Do you even drink coffee?” she asked again.

“No, but coffee isn’t what I came here for,” he answered, looking at her, concerned.

“Don’t give me that look.  There’s nothing wrong,” she insisted.  “How have you been?  It’s been forever, and I know were in the same town, and I know you’re not that far away, it’s just that things got crazy for me for a while and I want things to go back to how they used to be.”

“I’ve been good,” he started, “I miss how we used to be, too, and I’m sorry I haven’t called in so long, but you remember that girl I was seeing, right?”

“Yeah, that chick who ripped your heart out, right?  I remember her.  What, did she show up again?”

“No, no, nothing like that.  It was really difficult for me after she left.  I moved out and started working, and just sort of never fully got over her.  What about you?”

“Well, as you know, I’m dancing down at the Roadhouse.  Don’t give me that look, I get that enough from mom and dad.  Actually, that’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Dancing?  I already have a job, Bec, plus, I don’t really think I have the body for it.”  She smiled at him and scrunched up her nose.  He smiled back at her, took a sip from the steaming mug the waitress had left on the table, and grimaced at the hot, bitter taste.  She was one of the only people that Joseph would joke with; they understood each other and had been very close as children.

“No, not dancing,” she began, “There’s actually someone that I want you to meet down there.”  Joseph rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead.  He had been set up on several unsuccessful and painfully awkward blind dates and didn’t particularly want to try it again.

“Look, Bec…”

“Really, Joey, she’s perfect for you.  She’s sweet, and funny; just a little vulnerable right now.  She’s been there about two months and I can tell she hates it.  Delilah hates her, and so do most of the older girls right now, but I think that what she really needs is someone to care about her.”  Joseph sighed and rubbed his forehead again.  “She’s really pretty,” Rebecca sang, insistently.  “Please?  I promise you’ll like her.”

“You’re not giving up on this, are you?” he asked, smiling at her.

“Not until you say yes,” she said.  “She ran away from home, I found her sleeping in an old, broken-down car, come on, Joseph, say you’ll at least meet her.”  He knew she was never going to give up on it, at least not any time soon.

“What’s her name, at least?” he asked.

“That’s my Joey-boy!”  She smiled a huge smile and hugged him again.  “Her name,” she started, “is Mary, and I know you’ll love her.”  Joseph sat back and half listening to his cousin, staring at her with an odd smile on his face.  Maybe this week would be better than he’s thought…

*              *              *

Joseph’s eyelids snapped shut, trying to shut out the thin ray of light that had pierced through the curtains and into his eye.  He groaned to himself and turned over to face the clock by his bed, only to find that he wasn’t in his bed.  His head throbbed with pain and he attempted feebly to rub it away as he sat up on his couch and looked around the room.  He could vaguely remember the events that had taken place the night before.  He knew there had been a party, it was at Gabriel’s, and that he had brought Rebecca along with him.  Other than that, he couldn’t remember what else had happened or who had brought him home.  He cautiously searched the room looking for any sign of his cousin, but found none.  He rose from the couch, scratching his head, trying to remember, when he heard some rustling from his bedroom.  Curiously, he wandered into his room and saw his cousin sprawled across the bed, half under a sheet, with a pillow covering her face.  A low groan came from the pillow attached to his cousin’s voice.

“God Damnit, does it have to be so fuckin’ bright in here?”  Joseph looked around his darkened room quizzically.  The curtains were pulled tight, but there was a thin beam that cut the floor and flashed right on Rebecca’s face.  “Don’t you ever stop?” she asked the sun.  She threw the pillow at the window as she sat up with an angry look on her face.  The pillow bounced off the window, but only managed to push the curtains farther apart eliciting a frustrated cry.  She pulled the sheet over her head and lay back down with an exasperated sigh and a whine.  Joseph began to chuckle to himself over his cousin’s frustration.

“I have some aspirin in the bathroom,” he said to the crumpled lump on his bed.  She pulled the sheet down slowly and glared at his crooked grin.

“You’re lucky that pillow’s across the room,” she said from under the sheet, “why did you let me drink that much?”

“Me?  Why did you insist on getting smashed?”

“Please don’t yell…”

“Sorry,” he whispered, “and why did you get me smashed?  The morning is never as good afterwards,”

“Oh, like you actually get up in the morning,” she teased.  Her head came tentatively out from under the sheet.  Her eyes squinted into the darkened room, and she smiled.  Joseph walked over and sat on the edge of the bed next to his cousin.

“I take it we had fun,” he said, smiling.

“You certainly did,” she said, rolling her eyes, “what a partier…”  Joseph couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not, so he decided not to ask anything else just then.  He stood up and started walking to the door, turned back and smiled at his cousin.

“Hungry?”

“Ugh… Starving.”

“I’ll make you something,” he said walking into his kitchen.  He took a look around quickly trying to find something to make, but found nothing.  “Maybe we should go out…” he muttered to himself.

“Hmmm?” asked his cousin walking into the kitchen scratching her head.  She looked around the kitchen, “Wow, Joey, cook much?”  Unlike everything else in his apartment, Joseph’s kitchen was spotless.  Nothing was out of place, nothing was dirty, no dishes in the sink.  Of course, this was due to the fact that Joseph hadn’t moved anything in the kitchen since he had moved in.  He had no pots, pans, or cooking tools, and his dishes were still in the boxes.  He looked at his cousin, embarrassed.

“Maybe we should go out,” they said, in unison.

*              *              *

They settled into a booth near a window of the diner and stared at their menus.  After a small pause, they folded them up and stuffed them in the corner of the table and stared out the window.  Rebecca was the first to speak.

“So when do you want to meet her?” she asked, playing with the single-serve half and half cups.  Joseph looked back to the table, unsure of how to answer.  She drummed her fingers on the table, looking at Joseph through dark sunglasses, despite the dimly lit diner.

“Whenever.  What does she like to do?”

“I’ve only ever seen her reading, but I know she likes music, movies…  You know, girly stuff.”  A waitress came over and filled the mugs on the table with coffee.

“You kids ready?” she asked, uninterestedly.

“Two eggs, sunny side up, bacon, and almost burnt toast,” said Rebecca, without looking up.

“And you?”

“Same,” muttered Joseph.  The waitress sighed, flipped her notepad closed, then turned and walked away.

“You’re really leaving, then?” Miriam asked her sister.

“You know I can’t stay, Mimi,” Mary responded, “come with me.”

“I can’t, Mary, you know that.  You shouldn’t be leaving either.  Mom needs us here.”

“She doesn’t need me here, and I don’t need to be here.”  Mary finished packing and zipped the backpack shut.  She took a look around the room to see if there was anything she had missed.  It was a small room, and there wasn’t much in it, but she checked it anyway just to be sure.  She looked sympathetically at her sister and added, “Don’t let him stay.  Mom never should have married him; you need to get him out.  You need to get out.”

“I know, I know.  I can’t just leave her…”

“Shh!” Mary said, suddenly, “He’s coming.”  They heard footsteps echoing down the hall, coming closer and closer to the room they occupied until they stopped suddenly and the door flew open.  Jacob stood in the doorway, looking from Mary, to Miriam, and then to the backpack lying on the bed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” demanded Mary’s stepfather.  “You unpack that backpack right now.  You’re not going anywhere!”  Miriam had backed into the corner of the room, leaving Mary standing beside the bed where the backpack lay.  Surprisingly, even to Mary, she stood her ground, her hand clasped tightly on one of the straps of the backpack.

“No,” she said, weakly, her voice trembling.  “I’ve had enough.  I’m leaving and you aren’t going to stop me this time.”

“Oh, you’re leaving again, are you?” he shouted, “Nobody’s leaving.  Not you, your sister, or your whore of a mother, NO ONE!”

“My mother is not a whore, and you can’t stop me from leaving this time.”  She said, her voice wavering.  He slapped her, hard, across the face, so hard that she fell onto the bed, holding her face.

“Your mother is a whore, just like you are.”

“Stop it!  Leave her alone!”  Mary’s mother appeared at the door, her face soaked with tears and bright red.  She stepped back as he turned and advanced on her, fast.

“Stop it!  Leave her alone!” he repeated, mockingly, “Shut up, Annie.  What, are you going to stop me?  You need me!  You can’t afford to live without me!”  He turned back to Mary and said, “Don’t even think about going anywhere, I’m not finished with you yet, you little bitch!”  He slammed the door and the girls heard something thud against the wall.  They could hear their mother’s sobbing growing fainter as she retreated to her room.  Mary looked up at Miriam,

“I need to leave, now.  Please, come with me,” she pleaded with her sister.

“I can’t, Mary.  I…  I just can’t.”  Mary took one last look at her sister, grabbed the backpack, swung it over her shoulder, and slowly opened the door.  The hallway was empty, but she could still hear her mother and stepfather in the other room.  “Mary…” she started.  Mary turned back and saw her sister’s eyes filled with tears.  “Since I can’t seem to talk you out of this, you need to get as far away from here as possible.  Damnit, little girl, I’m going to miss you so much.”  She ran forward and hugged her sister, crying.

“I know, Mimi.  I know.  But you know why I have to go.”  Miriam nodded, looked up at her, and motioned toward the door.

“You’d better go.  Just…  Don’t be stupid.  Write to me.”

“I will.”  Mary turned and walked down the hall and out the door into the rain.

Mary had grown up with her father, Eli, mother, Anne, and sister, Miriam, and had lived in the same house all her life.  Eli was a caring man, tall and handsome, who doted on his daughters and loved his wife.  He was rarely angry with them, only when they had truly done something wrong, but even then he never raised a hand to them.  One night, on his way home from his job in the city, he was struck and killed by another driver.  Mary was eight at the time and her sister, Miriam, was eleven.  As the years went on and both girls got older, their mother became depressed and developed a drinking problem.  When Mary was fifteen, her mother met the man who would later become Mary and Miriam’s stepfather, Jacob.  He was also an alcoholic, a gambler, and abusive.  The only one who seemed to escape it was Miriam who learned to identify when he would come home drunk and angry, and avoid him altogether.  Mary tried to run away the first time at sixteen and then again a year later when he developed a drug problem.  Both times Jacob had found her, usually at her friends’ houses and taken her back home.  This time, Mary knew she had to get as far away as possible.

Mary walked fast down the street, avoiding streetlights.  “This time,” she told herself, “he can’t find me.”  Off in the distance, she heard a door slam and Jacob shouting something incoherently.  She was far enough away not to hear it, but it made her heart race, so she quickened her pace.  She ducked down an alley as she heard a car coming.  A siren blared from somewhere far away, which made Mary shiver.  Sirens always reminded her of the night her father had died.  She zipped up her sweatshirt and pulled the hood over her head.  Her hair was already soaked with rain, as was her face, but it still warmed her a little.  She continued down the alley until she came out on a street lined with little shops.  She had been here many times with her friends when she was younger and knew most of the store owners, so she ducked into a small café and found a seat in the back where she wouldn’t be seen.  She had to think of a plan; some way to get out of the town and get somewhere far away, while avoiding people who might remember that they had seen her.  “The highway,” she thought, “If I can get to the highway, I can find a ride out of here.”

She heard the tinkling of the bells on the door and looked up cautiously to see who had walked in.  An older couple shuffled into the shop, shaking off the rain, and sat down at the table to Mary’s left.  The woman looked over at her and smiled.  Mary watched them, longingly; the man had taken her coat off, pulled out her chair, he was a perfect gentleman.  Mary longed to be loved like that; her father was the only other man she had known to be that caring.  Tears stung her eyes as she thought about him, but she quickly wiped them away, took a deep breath, pulled her hood back over her head and walked out of the shop.  She knew she had to keep moving, this was no time to get sentimental.

She turned left and headed towards the outskirts of the town, toward the highway, trying her best to stay as warm and dry as possible.  The rain fell harder as she reached the small, two-lane highway at the edge of the town.  She looked up and down the highway, searching the desolate road for any cars coming along.  Far off in the distance, she could see two small lights heading towards her from the east.  She turned to face the car and stuck out her thumb.  The car got closer to her, slowed slightly, and quickly sped past her.  “Damnit,” she thought, “is anyone even going to pick me up out here?”  She started down the highway, hoping to find someone kind enough to give her a ride as far as they could take her.  She didn’t care where, as long as it was somewhere that Jacob couldn’t find her.  Behind her, she could hear the distant hum of a truck coming down the road.  She turned around and squinted into the rain, but the truck was still very far off; it could still turn off the road.  She heard a rustling in some bushes a little behind her and began to think that maybe she was being followed; maybe Jacob had already found her.  Her heart began to race as she frantically scanned the bushes for some sign of life.  Her wide eyes darted back and forth searching for an arm, leg or anything else belonging to her stepfather.  The rustling had stopped and she took a step closer, but she could still see nothing.  Just as she had turned around, the brush has rustled again which sent a shiver down her spine and made her wheel around so fast that she almost fell down.  “No,” she decided, squinting into the brush through the freezing rain, “not this time.  I would’ve seen something… he wouldn’t have waited so long.”  Even so, she kept her eyes on the bushes, just to be sure, and quickened her pace.  The truck was coming closer; she might still have a chance.  This time, though, she thought she had heard another set of footsteps crunching the gravel on the side of the road, and whipped around again, but no one was there.  She stuck out her thumb, nervously as the truck drew nearer to her, still looking along the side of the road and around the bushes.  The driver drove around her slowly, pulled off to the side of the road, and opened the passenger-side door.  Mary ran up to the door and looked up into the cab.

“Well, where ya headed, darlin’?” said the driver in a thick southern accent.  She was an older woman, mid-40’s, with brown hair, pulled back into a pony-tail that stuck out the back of her hat.  She had a kind, worn face that reminded Mary of when her mother was happy, and a pleasant, caring demeanor that reminded her of her father.

“How far are you going?”

“I can take ya as far as Carson City,”

“Perfect,”

“Well, climb in, darlin’, we ain’t goin’ nowhere just standin’ here.  My name’s Bernice, but you can call me Bernie,”

“Mary,” she said, startled.  She climbed up into the truck bed and slammed the door.  Bernice turned the truck back onto the highway, turned to Mary and asked,

“So, whatcha runnin’ from?”  Mary looked over at Bernice, stunned.

“How did you…”

“Folks’ young as you thumbin’ rides on a highway this late are usually runnin’ from somethin’,”

“It’s a long story,” Mary muttered.

“Well, start at the beginnin’.  We got a lotta time.”