PART FOUR

"Si…si.. sister?" Claire sputtered. "That woman is your sister?" Claire pointed toward the closed door in disbelief. Man, she was right. This is complicated.

Amanda nodded sadly, her mind drifting to the baby sleeping upstairs. Standing, she began walking toward the stairs, stuffing her hands in her pockets. The therapist looked down at the carpet as she spoke. "Claire, I need to go and check on Missy…um...and…you should probably go. I’m sorry you had to see that. I don’t know what to say. I just…"

"I’m not…sorry I was here, that is," Claire offered gently, as she made her way to the retreating blonde. Not wanting to leave, especially after the scene she’d just witnessed, the attorney reached up and laid a hand on her throat, indicating she was thirsty. "How about you go and check on Missy and I’ll make us some tea. Okay?"

Amanda visibly relaxed, relieved beyond reason that Claire wasn’t leaving just yet. Mustering a faint smile, she nodded. "Okay. That would be great. Everything is in the first cabinet. I’ll be back down in a few minutes." But she didn’t move.

Both women stood facing each other at the bottom of the stairs, each hesitant to leave the other. Finally, Amanda leaned forward and on tipped-toes planted a delicate kiss on Claire’s lips. "I’ll be right back," she said as she turned and jogged up the stairs.

As she watched Amanda retreat upstairs, Claire placed a fingertip on her still tingling lips, her mood inexplicably brightened by the simple gesture. Wow! She thought for the hundredth time that night. If that’s how she makes me feel with one kiss, I don’t know if I could handle anything more. Claire let out a giddy chuckle at her own expense, the word "smitten" popping into the forefront of her mind. After a few seconds, she realized she was supposed to do something. Oh, yeah…tea.

Claire pushed off from the stairs, an uneasy knot growing in her stomach. What if they do come back and try to take that baby? Simple, her mind answered. You won’t let them. Detouring from her route to the kitchen, the tall brunette made her way over to the front window. Pulling back the soft green curtains, she peered out into the inky darkness. Scanning the yard, there was no sign of anything. No Monica, no "Chucky", no cars. No cars? "FUCK!" she yelled.

Muttering a long string of colorful expletives, Claire bolted out the front door and into the cold night air. Standing in the front yard, she stared dumbly at the spot where her Explorer used to be parked. A gust of wind blew strands of dark hair across her shocked face. Those assholes stole Gumby!

"What? What is it?" Amanda panted, her eyes darting wildly, looking for whatever had caused her friend explode through the front door. "Are you okay?" the shorter woman asked nervously, as her hands began instinctively roaming Claire’s body, searching for injuries.

Both eyebrows shot skyward at her friend’s physical examination and Claire opened her mouth to speak. For a split second she considered allowing her to continue but Amanda was obviously frightened. "I’m fine," Claire assured.

When Amanda appeared not to notice Claire’s words, the lawyer spoke more firmly. "Mandy," she grabbed the roaming hands, forcing Amanda to look at her face, "I’m okay." Staring into tear filled eyes, she softened her voice. "I promise, Mandy."

"What…What?" Amanda ran a shaky hand through her hair. "Jesus Christ, Claire!" Amanda exhaled raggedly, and lightly bumped Claire with her hip. "You scared the crap out of me!" Claire released Amanda’s wrists but Amanda didn’t back away. "I…ah…do you think I’m a little on edge tonight?" she joked, a wry smile twitching at her lips.

Claire laughed and wrapped her arm around the therapist’s waist, the physical contact seeming comfortable and appropriate after the wild emotional ride both women had taken. "You and me both," she agreed, after a deep exhale of her own.

"Are you gonna tell me what’s up with your ‘bat out of hell’ imitation? As I was coming downstairs I heard you yell and saw you race out the front door."

"Oh…sorry, I hope I didn’t wake Missy. I didn’t mean…"

"It’s okay," Amanda reassured. "Fortunately, the child can sleep through a hurricane. If Monica and her friend didn’t wake her I don’t think you need to worry."

"Good," Claire answered, relieved her profane outburst hadn’t disturbed the little girl.

"Well?" Amanda rolled her eyes at she what was learning was Claire’s closed-mouthed nature.

"Oops…sorry." Claire pointed to the curb at the end of Amanda’s driveway.

Amanda looked around. Her eyebrows knit in confusion. "I don’t see anything."

"I know."

"I’m sorry Claire but I still don’t get…" Amanda paused and refocused her attention along the empty street. Closing her eyes, her fists balled

of their own accord. Shit! Monica, I’m gonna kill you! Amanda winced thinking of the immaculate, new Explorer, and it’s rich leather interior. Amanda crossed her fingers. PleasePleasePlease…"Claire, please tell me that you parked your car around the corner."

Claire shook her head.

"Oh, Claire…I am sooo sorry." Amanda’s voice was equal parts sadness, anger and embarrassment.

"We don’t know for sure it was them." Claire offered lamely.

"Thanks. But, yes we do." Amanda began to steer Claire back into the house. "Come on inside. You need to call the police."

Claire sat down heavily on the sofa as Amanda examined what was left of her front door. After a little maneuvering she was able to push it closed enough to attach the chain lock.

"Mandy, I have really good insurance I could wait and call tomorrow."

In answer, the blonde simply walked over and handed Claire the phone. "I’m going to get that tea. Do you like honey?" Claire nodded. "Okay, then." Amanda looked pointedly at the phone. "Call."

"You didn’t have to do that." Amanda sat her empty mug on the coffee table.

"It’s alright. The police only needed to know it was stolen, telling them about your sister would just make things more difficult for you. Besides, all I really care about is getting Gu…err..my car back," Claire quickly added.

The smaller woman raised a questioning brow, but ignored the deepening color of Claire’s cheeks. The darker woman stifled a yawn, making Amanda smile. She fights it just like Missy. The yawn and the light chiming of the clock reminded Amanda of exactly how late it was. Regretfully, the therapist remembered her manners. "I know you must be exhausted. I could wake Missy and drive you home or I could call you a cab?"

"Well…er…I was thinking that I should stay here tonight." Hopeful, steel blue eyes looked up through dark thick lashes and focused intently on open round green. "On the couch, of course," she quickly amended. Slightly embarrassed, the attorney was unable to maintain eye contact with the surprised blonde. Focusing on a watercolor landscape over Amanda’s shoulder, Claire tried to explain. "I’m worried they may come back. And your door won’t shut properly, at least partially due to me. And...well…I wouldn’t sleep at my place anyway. All I’d be doing is worrying about you and Missy," she admitted. Why do I keep doing that? I’m babbling and I sound desperate! Why don’t I just throw myself at her feet and beg to sleep on her floor?

"Are you sure?" For some unearthly reason Amanda felt the need to question Claire’s decision, even though she wholeheartedly agreed with her.

Claire grinned, her confidence slightly restored. "Sure, I’m sure. As long as it won’t be any trouble for you."

"Nope, no trouble for me. I’d love for you to stay." Standing, she reached out for Claire. "Up," she directed.

Claire complied, but shot a questioning look toward her hostess as she grasped the smaller hand and stood.

"Come on," Amanda urged. "I’m taking you upstairs to find you something to sleep in." They climbed the stairs hand-in-hand. "Then I’m tucking you into the guest room."

"But..."

"No buts. It’ll be too cold to sleep on the couch with the door like it is." When she heard Claire draw a breath as if to protest, she expertly executed a preemptive strike. "Besides, if you’re intent on keeping an eye on me and Missy, it’s best you stay close by. Right?"

"Humph." Claire couldn’t argue.

Amanda led the taller woman into her bedroom, motioning for her to sit down on the bed. "Have a seat. I think I have something that will fit you."

"You don’t need to go to any trouble. I don’t mind sleeping in this although I don’t usually bother sleeping in anything at…" Claire suddenly stopped as she realized what she was going say.

Amanda literally had to bite her tongue to avoid blurting out the comment that was on its tip. Now how am I supposed to sleep with that picture in my head? The young doctor couldn’t help herself as her eyes traveled down Claire’s long legs. She really is gorgeous. And smart. And funny. And…

"Mandy?"

"Oops, sorry," the smaller woman giggled, embarrassed at being caught mid-fantasy. "Give me a minute."

Claire watched as Amanda disappeared into the walk-in closet. I wonder if she’s finding me as distracting as I find her? Claire immediately dismissed the possibility. Nah.

Claire could hear Amanda milling around the closet and wondered what the petite women could possibly own that would cover everything that needed covering. Claire smirked. There are some advantages to living in a secluded house.

Amanda stood on a small stool and carefully pulled a box down from the highest shelf. Prying open the lid, she began digging through various items until she eventually pulled out a new package of men’s sized extra-large, turquoise, cotton pajamas. These should be perfect.

Flicking off the closet light, Amanda found Claire sitting on the bed looking at small-framed photograph on the nightstand. Amanda sat down next to Claire, their thighs and shoulders touching. Laying down the package, Amanda reached across Claire and picked up the photograph. "That was taken about seven years ago when we were both still in college. It was before the drugs."

Claire’s eyes widened. "That was Monica?"

Sighing, Amanda gently traced the faces on the photograph. "I know. It took me a few seconds to recognize her myself tonight. I’ve never seen her so bad."

Amanda handed Claire the photograph so she could examine it more closely. Making a quick decision, she scooted up to the head of the bed and pulled the pillows out from under the comforter. Positioning a pillow behind her back, she leaned up against the headboard and patted the space next to her. Smiling, Claire used her feet to push off her sneakers, and reclined along side her friend.

Claire took her time examining the photo. The two women within the frame looked to be the about same age, and bore a striking resemblance to each other. Each was a fresh faced, smiling, reddish blonde. And both appeared to be the very picture of youthful health and enthusiasm. How different one of those women looked today.

Gently returning the photograph to the nightstand, Claire shifted her position drawing herself even closer to her companion. Reaching down between their bodies Claire found Amanda’s hand. Pulling it to her, she wrapped the smaller fingers with her own.

Green eyes fluttered shut in contentment, as the young mother eagerly soaked up the simple affection Claire was offering. For a few moments the women sat in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"She looked so thin and pale. I hope she’s not sick." A soft and anguished voice broke the silence.

Amanda didn’t have to spell out what she was wondering. Track marks on nearly translucent skin told their own story, and spoke of a danger beyond the drugs themselves. Claire squeezed the hand resting in hers.

"We used to be real sisters, friends who swapped stories and dreams," Amanda continued. "She’s only 10 months older than I am. We were even in the same grade in school." Amada let out a shaky breath. "But…we…well…I guess we started drifting apart in college. I knew I wanted to go to grad school, so I spent a lot of time studying and keeping my grades up. It was the first time in our lives that we couldn’t spend a lot of time together."

Amanda’s eyes grew misty. "I guess she needed that…more than I realized. She started hanging around with these…these…I dunno. They were just trouble. By the time I finished my B.A. and was ready to move on, our relationship was reduced to visits at family gatherings and the holidays. We didn’t really talk anymore. Not like we used to. And it was about that time that I accepted my sexuality…we had talked about it before. I wanted her to accept it… to accept me as I am. But…well…she just couldn’t."

Claire’s own chest ached as recognized the self-loathing and disgust in her friend’s voice but didn’t interrupt. Blue eyes closed in empathy.

"That picture was taken during my last spring break before graduation. But even then, she was starting to get in trouble. She had already dropped out of school and a few weeks after that picture was taken she moved in with one of the men she met, only God knows how or where."

"Over the next few years things just got worse. She was arrested a couple of times. She stole things from our parents, from me. Once she and Jody really got into it, and had to be physically separated. Somewhere along the line she went from a drug user to an addict." Amanda pulled back their joint hands examining the differences in size and color and shape, as she spoke.

"Anyway…about two years ago…I hadn’t seen her for a while, although I always knew she kept with touch with our parents, even if it was just for money…she showed up pregnant. She said she didn’t know who the father was." Amanda shrugged. "I suppose considering the men Monica always seemed to be with, none of us really wanted to know, so we didn’t ask anymore about it. For a while she wanted to keep the baby, and raise it on her own. She even tried to get her act together…stop the partying and drugs and constant stream of men…but it didn’t last long."

"About a month before Missy was born she finally decided that she wasn’t in a position to be a mother. She knew she couldn’t even take care of herself."

A faint smile graced Amanda’s lips. "Then one day she asked me if I had considered adopting the baby." The smile turned wry. "Which I had…but I hadn’t mentioned it because I knew how Monica felt about my ‘lifestyle’…and I guess I didn’t think she’d want the baby to be with me." Amanda’s brow knit in confusion. "It was really weird." She turned to face Claire. "One day, out of the blue, she said love was the most important thing and that she was sure the baby would have that with me."

Claire didn’t try to stop the affectionate smile that transformed her worried features. "She was right about that, Mandy."

Returning the look, Amanda sighed again. "After Missy was born things went downhill again for Monica. She started disappearing for days, then weeks at a time. Everyone tried to help…again. But she…well…nothing worked. Tonight was the first time I’ve seen her in over a year. She must have checked herself out of the rehab clinic my parents talked her into." Sad eyes pinned Claire. "She looked really bad didn’t she?"

Claire nodded. "I’m sorry, Mandy." Shit! I don’t want to make her feel worse! But I’m not going to lie to her either. "Even without comparing her to the kid in that photograph," she pointed toward the nightstand, "yeah, I’d say she looked pretty bad."

Amanda sensed her friend’s distress. "It’s okay. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know," she assured. "I should have done more to help her, spent the time she needed, I…I…I don’t know how things every got this far out of control. I should…"

"Stop it."

Amanda looked up in surprise. "But…"

"Just stop it," Claire interrupted. "This isn’t your fault. None of it." Claire quelled her rising anger and consciously gentled her voice. "Mandy, your sister isn’t a drug addict because you wanted to do well in college or because you’re gay. She made her own choices."

"You don’t understand, Claire." When the lawyer opened her mouth to speak Amanda silenced her by pressing two fingers against her lips. Looking up into determined azure eyes, she pressed on. "Even though she’s older I’ve always sort of taken care of her. She’s always been a little…reckless, I guess. Even as little kids my Mom expected me to watch out for her, to keep her out of trouble. She was depending on me and I let her down. I let everyone down." When she finished she pulled back her fingers, her eyes unconsciously drifting the room next door that held her sleeping daughter.

"Amanda." The low, solemn timber of Claire’s voice drew back Amanda’s attention. "It doesn’t matter what everyone expected. That wasn’t your job. It’s not right to put that responsibility on a child or even a young woman. You’re not your sister’s keeper." A large hand comfortingly stroked Amanda’s thigh. "You must know that."

Nodding, Amanda reached up and lightly rubbed her temple in an effort to forestall her impending headache. "I do know that…I mean…my head knows what you’re saying is true but…for some reason my heart just can’t seem to accept it."

"I know," Claire softly replied.

The compassion and understanding Claire offered were more than Amanda could bear. It was overwhelming. The tears that had been threatening to fall throughout Amanda’s story finally spilled over. "What am I gonna do?" Tears turned to sobs. "She’s my sister but I’m…I’m not just going to tu…turn over my daughter as though I was babysitting these past two years," she fiercely choked.

Jesus, I am so bad at this. Once again at a loss for words the attorney simply held her crying friend. You don’t have to deal with this alone, Mandy, not if you don’t want to. Claire gently stroked the pale head tucked under her chin until the sobbing slowly receded. Claire inhaled deeply, committing to memory the faint scent of strawberry shampoo and light musk perfume. Snuggling closer, Amanda found herself exhausted and craving sleep, but unwilling to break the physical and emotion connection that had been so quickly forged.

In an exercise of sheer will power, Claire eased away from her companion.

"Mandy, we should really get some sleep." Claire reached up with warm palms and cupped wet cheeks, using her thumbs, she gently wiped away the last of Amanda’s tears. God, I hate it when she cries.

"You’re right," Amanda acknowledged with a sniffle, already missing the contact. Arching her back, she stretched strained, tired, muscles. Leaning forward, she scooted down to the foot of the bed and retrieved the forgotten package. "I found these, they’ll be a little big, but they should work."

Claire curiously fingered the new package of men’s pajamas. A dark eyebrow lifted in question.

Amanda snorted at the look of jealously that flickered behind beautiful eyes. "I bought them for my Dad’s birthday next week."

"Then I can’t…"

"Of course you can. I was thinking about getting him something else anyway. Besides," she weakly teased "I have a sneaky suspicion they’ll you’ll look a lot better on you."

Claire grinned at smaller woman’s improving mood. "Why Amanda, are you flirting with me?"

Amanda pushed herself off the bed and held out a hand to her friend. "Claire, I’m way too tired to flirt. I’m sure you’d look fantastic in anything." Amanda’s eyes naturally raked over Claire body. "Or nothing…for that matter." Uh..oh. Did I just say that last part out loud?

Claire’s eyebrows shot straight up and were lost behind dark bangs. This time both women blushed.

Swallowing her embarrassment Amanda wiggled the fingers on her outstretched hand. "Come on, counselor." Grasping the strong hand, Claire allowed herself to be hauled to her feet. "I need to introduce you to my futon."

Amanda shifted as she tried to control her breathing. After several rapid blinks, her eyes began to adjust to the darkness of the room. She glanced over at the large glowing numbers on her alarm clock. 4:48 a.m.… God, did all that happen just a few hours ago? With a groan, she flopped back down on her pillow, exhaling loudly as her shoulders hit the bed, noting that the sheets were damp with perspiration. She turned away from the glaring numbers wondering why the old but familiar nightmare had returned. I don’t need to wonder. I know exactly why. Is unbelievable stress a good enough reason? Someone else’s problems I can handle. My own… a snort… that’s a whole other ballgame. Closing her eyes, the familiar images played for an audience of one.

The therapist felt an almost overwhelming urge to join Claire, and surround herself with the strong comforting arms that had kept her from falling apart after her sister’s traumatic visit. Not wanting to disturb her friend, she ruthlessly pushed away the urge. Closing her eyes, her thoughts began to wander and become fuzzy.

In the stage where the mind is equal parts awake and asleep, the past began merging with the present, and old insecurities blended with new worries. She wanted to run, to hide from the crushing responsibility she had for a small, pale haired child. But her spirit rallied, and Amanda told herself this time she wouldn’t fail. She couldn’t. She would do whatever was necessary to keep Missy safe and happy, and her family intact. Besides, her heart softly reminded, you don’t have to this alone, not anymore. Her resolve firmed, Amanda began to relax.

Her consciousness drifted to a more recent occurrence where an outstretched hand pulled her to safety and comfort and warmth, and she allowed the sweet memory to wash over her and lull her to back to sleep. A tall, blue-eyed attorney, and a perfect kiss, consumed her last waking thoughts.

"Wow, this is your house? I knew I should have gone to law school," Amanda joked as she slowly pulled the car up the long secluded driveway. Claire had wanted to call a cab. But after what had happened the night before, at the very least she owed the woman a ride home.

"That’s a laugh. I didn’t get this because of law school. That rich lawyer perception is a just myth. I guarantee you’re doing better than the average attorney our age." Our age? She must be around my age to have gone through all that school. But she doesn’t look like she’s out of her early twenties. I’ll have to ask about that.

Claire looked out at the property and tried to remember how she felt the first time she saw it. "I received a modest trust when I turned twenty-five. But it was some extremely lucky investments that allowed me to buy this place a few years ago. I guess it is kind of big for one person."

Amanda looked out with admiration. "Remind me to get the name of your stock broker." Pale green eyes traveled over the beautifully sculpted bushes and beds of colorful tulips. "It’s really beautiful, Claire."

Noticing where Amanda was looking, Claire smiled. "Thanks. I did those myself."

"You’re a gardener?" The therapist asked, clearly delighted. "That’s great! Maybe sometime you could give me a few pointers. I think I have a black thumb. I’ve already killed a Chia Pet and several, supposedly indestructible, cacti."

The larger woman chuckled and nodded eagerly. "Any time, Mandy."

Claire unbuckled her seatbelt and slid out of the Audi, enjoying the fresh scent of pine that always greeted her when she came home. Looking down, she saw that Amanda and Missy were still buckled in the car. Sticking her head into open passenger window, she smiled at Missy, who was tightly clutching an already bedraggled looking Elmo. "How about a tour?"

Amanda smiled and looked back at her daughter. "Wadda you say Missy, you wanna see Claire’s house?"

"No!" the child exclaimed.

Claire stepped back, clearly disappointed. She shuffled uncomfortably. "Well okay, no problem. If you don’t want to…I mean you don’t have to come…"

"Claire, wait!" Amanda quickly exited the car and walked over to the taller woman. "She didn’t mean it like that," Amanda explained.

"But she said no."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Come on, I’ll show you." Grabbing Claire’s hand she dragged her back to the car. Both women poked their heads through the passenger window to observe the happily playing little girl. Amanda shook her head and sighed. "Watch." Snaking out her hand, she tickled the tiny blonde’s foot to get her attention. In a cheerful voice she began to question her daughter.

"Missy would you like to come outside and play?"

"No!" the child grunted.

"Would you like to stay in the car?"

"No!" she repeated.

Claire stared at the child, and Amanda, in wide-eyed fascination.

"Are you being a bad girl?"

"No!"

"Are you being a good girl?"

"No!"

"Would you like a delicious hot fudge sundae?"

"N…" the child hesitated, and Claire wondered what Amanda was going to do if the answer was yes. But after a second of hesitation, the child predictably decided to maintain her willful course. "No!" she proclaimed.

Both women ducked their heads out the car. Amanda turned, hands on her hips, and looked at Claire. "Satisfied?"

"Uhh…does she always do that?" Claire inquired.

"No!" Amanda imitated, and both women burst out laughing. "I was only partially joking about the terrible two’s coming early. She doesn’t really mean it. But I’m quite sure she’s enjoying herself saying it." Poking out her bottom lip, Amanda stepped forward and laid her palms flat against Claire’s stomach. She batted round, innocent eyes. "But I’d like a tour, nice lady."

"Okay, okay." Claire threw her hands up in mock surrender. "I can’t resist that very sad…" cocking her head to the side, she arched an eyebrow, "very manipulative," the eyebrow dropped and she smiled warmly, "very pretty face."

Amanda grinned broadly. "Why even try?" she impishly replied. "Self denial starves the soul." Opening Missy’s door, she began unbuckling the car seat.

Claire shrugged. You’re right about that, Mandy. And what I can’t bear to deny myself is you. "Well, since it’s already been established that I can’t resist you, would you like to go car shopping with me on Tuesday?"

Amanda frowned at the reminder of Claire’s stolen car. "I am so sorry about that, Claire. Maybe the police will find your car and you won’t need to get another?" she offered hopefully.

"You’re an actual optimist aren’t you?" Claire watched as Amanda continued to struggle with the car seat.

"I try," Amanda growled, as she finally tugged the buckle free.

"Well, I don’t feel like waiting around to see if the cops find my car. And as much as I like the idea of you and Missy chauffeuring me around town, I might as well take advantage of my time off and look for a replacement. Wadda ya say?"

Amanda chewed her bottom lip trying to remember her schedule for Tuesday. "I don’t have any appointments after lunch, so how about you pick me up at the clinic at noon?" With Missy in her arms, Amanda turned to face Claire.

Claire slipped off her mirrored Ray Bans so Amanda could see the narrowing of her eyes. "Verrry funny Amanda," she purred.

"Oops, sorry, I forgot." Green eyes twinkled, and Claire found herself mesmerized by tiny gold flecks that were amplified by the bright morning sun. "Why don’t I pick you up around 12:30 p.m.?"

How far away is Tuesday? "Deal."

As soon as two tiny feet hit the ground, Missy squealed with delight and bolted toward the wooded area that surrounded Claire’s home. "Missy’s right," Claire announced. Looking up into the clear blue sky, she took a deep breath and extended her arms as if trying to absorb the light itself. "It’s too beautiful to be inside this morning. I’ll show you the outside first."

Amanda laughed softly and nodded, silently acknowledging that the darker woman’s exuberant mood was downright infectious. In spite of herself, and knowing that most likely trouble lay ahead, the young therapist was looking forward to the days to come in a way she never had. Donning her own Ray Bans, she happily grasped Claire’s hand as they trekked after the giggling toddler.

Claire smiled to herself, feeling a little giddy as the scent of Amanda’s perfume still clung to her clothes. This feels great, she marveled. It's like a high, but without the booze. I haven’t felt this happy in…a really long time. Claire sat down on her bed and began undressing. As she slipped off her blouse, her mind traveled back more than ten years, to college.

The experience of first love was both exhilarating and heartbreaking. It was one of the few times Claire had truly felt connected to another human being.

Claire, by nature, was a loner. She had very few friends and wasn’t close to her parents. In the Easton household your career came first. She learned to accept the lack of attention. And despite it, she appeared to thrive, almost not noticing the loss… almost.

College was the young woman’s first time away from the security of the nest, but still, she was excited. Although her first two years of school were largely unremarkable, it was during this time that she became aware of her own sexual preferences. It was a discovery that she accepted with remarkable ease. It was, however, a revelation she chose not to share with her parents. Surely they wouldn’t notice. Claire wasn’t even sure they would care.

Claire met Sarah in an accounting course. They were both business majors and wading their way through Indiana University's infamous semester known as "A Core," an advanced set of classes designed to weed out the last of the weak business majors in the University's well-known business school.

The cheerful blond Sarah took an interest in the somewhat broody Claire. After classes, they began walking around the campus together and talking. Soon, they started going to lunch and dinner together. Claire felt wanted. Someone actually sought her out and wanted to be her friend.

The two young women began confiding in each other. Aside from Mark, Claire never really had a friend. And other than the odd nanny, Sarah was her first female friend. This experience was groundbreaking in a way. The friendship began to deepen as the students spent increasing amounts of time together. It became a nightly ritual for she and Sarah to talk on the phone before bed. When they were together, they read each other stories out loud.

Claire realized that she was falling in with love Sarah, although she wasn't quite sure what that would mean. It was obvious that Sarah was interested in men, but she gave mixed signals to a confused Claire. Claire embraced her own feelings and found a happy medium in her mind between a friendship and a romance. It didn't matter to Claire that Sarah didn’t return her feelings outright. Finally, she felt like she belonged to something and someone. She told Sarah she loved her and didn't qualify it or label it as platonic or romantic love. For now, love was simply enough and Claire basked in its happiness for nearly a year.

Gradually, however, the young brunette found herself wanting more. But the more she wanted the more Sarah appeared to pull away. Finally, the young woman's nagging fears of loss started to become a reality. The relationship was suffering.

Sarah told Claire that she was suffocating her and began a long string of romances that left Claire feeling excluded and jealous. She blamed the men in Sarah’s life for keeping them apart. The almost pathetic attempts Claire made to hang on to the relationship backfired badly. She desperately wanted to keep Sarah as a friend, but even that seemed impossible now.

One night, in a devastating moment of clarity, the reality of the situation hit her, and Claire found herself in almost unbearable pain. She saw her own jealousy for what it was…a waste. The problem wasn’t the men in her friend’s life but her own feelings for her friend, feelings that couldn’t be reciprocated. She was hurt and embarrassed and decided to salvage what was left of her pride.

She and Sarah never discussed it and Claire cut off all contact with her for the sake of her own sanity. But would be years before Claire would reconcile herself with her own loss of control.

In the years following college, Claire had a few discreet and decidedly impersonal flings. Oddly, it was her relationship with Mark that finally allowed her to push beyond painful memories and begin looking toward the future. Mark truly accepted and understood Claire. In his eyes, Claire saw her own relationship with Sarah mirrored. She knew Mark’s affection for her went beyond friendship. But while Sarah had pushed her away, Claire made sure Mark knew she loved him. And although the relationship wasn’t everything Mark wanted, it was still satisfying...for both of them. Mark accepted the level of intimacy Claire could offer with an amount of grace and dignity that Claire couldn’t help but admire.

Marko…I should call you tonight, she mused.Claire’s frown disappeared as her thoughts left the past and firmly planted themselves in the present.

*******************************

Amanda turned off the ignition and sat staring at her parent’s white, two-story Tudor home. I can do this! I won’t let her make me feel guilty. Claire’s right. This is NOT my fault. I’m tired of taking the blame for something I had no control over. She’s gone too far this time. I can’t…no, I won’t just let it slide.

The determined blonde marched up the front sidewalk and lifted her hand to knock. She paused. Lowering her hand, she opened the door and entered her childhood home. The familiar, almost comforting scent of wood polish and cinnamon did nothing to quell her anger.

The house was immaculately kept, as always. Great detail was paid to assuring that all the furnishing maintained the ‘proper’ look. Nothing out of theme was permitted, no family photographs, no mementos, nothing. It was only after several years of begging that two young girls talked their mother into allowing a small black and white television in the den. It was, of course, hidden behind the doors of a cherry wood cabinet.

"MOTHER!!" she bellowed. "I need to see you!"

An elderly, slightly husky man slowly made his way out the den. Standing in the doorway slightly behind Amanda, he removed his bifocals. Leaning against the wooden frame, he stood for a moment, silently watching his youngest daughter’s rage.

"MOTHER I KNOW YOU’RE HOME! YOUR CAR IS PARKED IN THE DRIVEWAY!"

After he’d seen enough, he gently cleared his throat. Amanda spun toward the sound, her demeanor instantly softening as she recognized its source.

"Hello, Pumpkin," greeted the rich voice.

She looked up into her own eyes. "Hello Daddy," she whispered. Amanda stepped back trying to hold onto her anger in her father’s presence, something she never quite managed to accomplish. "Were you part of this?"

The old man didn’t need further explanation. He had expected to see his fiery child sooner. "You know better than that, honey. I was working late that evening. I had stayed at school to grade some exams." His voice echoed with regret. "I..I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have let anyone take her."

Amanda dropped her eyes. "I know, Daddy." Looking around, she let her anger build again. "Where is she?" She began to pace.

"Don’t be too hard on her, Pumpkin. Monica called her at work and made arrangements to come by and pick up Melissa. But your mother was upstairs when she actually arrived. Monica had Gretchen get her the baby. Mom didn’t even see Monica until she and…and… that little troll of hers came back a couple of hours later. By that time I was home." The gray haired man sighed. "Amanda, she nearly had a heart attack when she saw your sister. I don’t think she would have let her take Melissa if she’d seen her first."

"Are you telling me that Monica and "Chucky" waltzed in here and simply took Missy from the housekeeper…with Mother’s permission?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, Amanda. That is exactly what your father is saying." The icy voice caused chills to run down Amanda’s spine, as she turned to face her mother.

"Violet…" the old man’s voice beseeched.

"Hush Harold," the strawberry-blonde scolded. "Go back to the study and finish working on your papers. I’ll continue this discussion with Amanda." Though nearly twenty years his junior, Amanda’s mother commanded her father with negligent ease. As always, he obeyed.

Regretful green eyes flashed over his daughter. Frowning, he turned on his heel and ambled back into the study.

"Now dear, I take it you’re not pleased with my decision concerning Missy."

Amanda’s temper was at its breaking point. "Not pleased doesn’t quite cover it, Mother. What in the HELL do you think you were doing?" she challenged.

"Don’t swear Amanda," the older woman chided. "It’s so unlady like."

With that final censure, the young blonde’s temper snapped. "Are you insane?" she yelled. Marching up until she was nose to nose with her mother, she continued. "Do you know what could have happened when you turned over Missy to Monica and that little pig of a man she married?"

Her mother gasped. "Are you certain she actually married him, dear. I was hoping…"

"MOTHER! Aren’t you paying attention?" Amanda’s hands gestured wildly. "For once this is not about Monica. This is about Missy and how I trusted you to look after her. I should have know something was up when you asked her to spend the night."

Violet brought her hand to her hips in a gesture so familiar Amanda winced. "And just what would you have me do, young lady. Monica wanted to see the child. How could I deny her that? After all, she is her mother."

Amanda closed her eyes and counted to ten, regaining some measure of control before speaking. "How many times are we going to have this same discussion? Monica is Missy’s Aunt, not her mother. Why can’t you just accept that?"

"You may want to believe that Amanda, but no judge can make it true. Monica may have problems but she is still Missy’s mother and..."

"This is not about what some judge did. It’s about who loves Missy, and cares for her, and is raising her, while Monica is off shooting up dope. I AM that child’s mother. The fact that I didn’t give birth to her, has very little to do with it." Amanda tried to control her shaking hands while trying to reason with her mother. "Mother, Monica shouldn’t even be around her. You saw her, she’s…"

"And just what are you doing around her?" Violet’s voice was laced with accusation.

Amanda paused, wondering how conversations with her mother always got derailed. "What are you talking about?" she asked confused.

Violet crossed her arms and turned her back on her daughter. "Nothing."

Amanda walked around her mother, forcing her to face her. "It’s not nothing. I want to know what you meant by that." Tears were brimming in her mother’s brown eyes. She’s crying? I’ve never seen her cry, not even when Grandma or Grandpa died, never…

"It’s not right, Amanda," the older woman whispered.

"What’s not right?" The younger woman’s mind was reeling. She had no idea what her mother was talking about and she was on the verge of tears herself.

"With you, Missy has no chance at having a father or a normal life."

Amanda sat down, stunned. It took a moment for her to find her voice. "You’re suddenly upset that I’m raising Missy and I’m gay?"

"I’ve accepted your choices, Amanda. But I’ve come to realize that Missy is too young to be subjected to them."

The younger woman closed her eyes and angrily wiped away tears of frustration. Why is my life going backwards? Rising, she faced her mother again. "My ‘choice’ as you call it, was no choice at all. I’ve always been this way; it just took me a while to get the nerve up to tell you. I can’t imagine why," she added sarcastically. "I…I thought we worked this out years ago. You never said anything during the adoption proceedings and now I’m supposed to be some sort of perverted influence over my daughter? Is Monica the one who helped you with this new revelation?"

Violet didn’t respond, but Amanda could tell from the look on her face she’d guessed correctly. "What exactly do you think I’m doing in front of Missy?"

"That’s none of my business, Amanda. I shouldn’t have asked you that."

"That much is true. But let me put your mind at ease. I’m not picking up biker chicks in dike bars and having sex with them in front of Missy’s crib."

SMACK!! The sound of the vicious slap echoed through the large room. Amanda stood in shocked silence. Lifting a hand she touched her stinging cheek.

Violet’s voice quivered and her tears flowed freely. "That’s enough, Amanda." The older woman was shaking. "No matter what mistakes I’ve made, I’m still your mother and I will not have you speak to me that way again." Without a backward glance, she turned and walked up the stairs. "This discussion is over."

Amanda watched her mother until she disappeared behind the curving banister. Digging her keys out of her jean pockets she left the house in a haze of tears. Slamming the front door behind her, she practically ran to her car. FUCK! "That went well," she mumbled as she started the ignition. "Now I get to go have it out with Jody." She pushed hard on the accelerator and the car smoothly shifted into second gear. "No wonder I hate Mondays."

*******************************

"See you soon," Amanda called after the teenager who was already furiously searching his pockets for his cigarettes. It was 4:30 p.m. and she had just finished with her last appointment for the day. After the conversation with her mother, she’d nearly cancelled the remainder of her appointments. But she’d promised herself long ago that her patients would never suffer because of her personal life. Besides, she couldn’t put off talking with Jody any longer. The two best friends had been little more than civil with each other, since their argument the week before. This ridiculous tension has gone on long enough. Amanda couldn’t fathom why Jody was still so upset. Over the years the friends had argued many times. But never had the harsh words or hurt feelings dragged out this long. Amanda gently knocked on her partner’s office door.

"Come in."

She entered the office and closed the door behind her. Jody was pounding away on her laptop and glanced up to see her friend sitting in the chair in front of her desk. "Just a second, Amanda. I’m almost finished." A few more furious keystrokes and Jody ejected her disk, and snapped shut the cover.

"Elvis is running out of juice again," Amanda remarked, as she watched the lethargic swaying of leather covered hips and blue suede shoes.

"I know. Damn thing goes through batteries like you can’t believe. Did you need something?"

Amanda scrunched her eyebrows together. "I didn’t know I needed a reason to talk to you."

Jody tossed down the pencil she had been twirling between her fingers. "That’s not what I meant and you know it, Amanda."

"I know, I’m sorry. I guess today…no this weekend and today have been a real bitch."

Jody leaned forward, eager to cast blame on Claire. "Did Claire do something?"

"No." Amanda shook her head. "Actually, she was the best thing about this weekend. She was terrific, actually."

Annoyed, Jody leaned back in her chair. "What happened then?"

"Do you have a while?" Amanda asked wryly.

"You, my friend, can have all the time you like. I’m finished for the day."

Amanda took a deep breath. "You asked for it." And she proceeded to relate the events surrounding her sister’s reemergence and her confrontation with her mother.

Jody remained largely silent except for an inappropriate snort when Amanda revealed that Monica had stolen Claire’s car, and a concerned "are you okay?" when she detailed her mother’s physical reaction to her admittedly crass declarations. When Amanda finished, Jody got up out of her chair and leaned forward over the desk, offering her friend a heart-felt hug.

"Shit, Amanda, why are you here at all? If I were you I’d be home licking my wounds."

"I didn’t want to go home until I’d had a chance to talk with you first. Are we okay?" the blonde asked hopefully.

Jody ruffled her own unruly brown locks and focused serious dark eyes on Amanda. "I don’t like her Amanda. And I won’t pretend otherwise. I think a pair of pretty, longs legs has turned your head and you’re not seeing her for what she is."

Amanda’s temper flared. "And just what is she?"

"She’s an obsessed attorney who thinks she’s Jane Friggin’ Bond! You said yourself she came here looking for information. She thinks we’re somehow involved with those cases being tossed out of court…and probably Aaron’s death too. Doesn’t that even bother you! What makes you think she’s not just trying to worm some ‘top secret’ information out of you?" Jody taunted.

"She’s not," Amanda stated firmly. Don’t ask me how I’m sure, Jody. I just know that I am.

"How can you be so sure?"

Figures. "I just am." Amanda growled. The smaller woman ignored her friend’s other questions and went on the offensive. "Look, I don’t appreciate you screening my dates!" The volume of her voice increased with each word. "I wouldn’t expect you to live with that!"

"You wouldn’t, huh?" Jody smirked. "I seem to recall a certain young blonde psychologist who told me Chester was a self-centered pig that would cheat on me and break my heart…AND THAT WAS ON MY WEDDING DAY!"

"Oh yeah…I forgot about that." Amanda couldn’t stop the tiny smile that edged its way across her lips. But she was, just barely, able to stop herself from saying ‘I told you so.’

The dark haired woman crossed her arms. "I’ll bet you forgot, you little shit. And don’t even think about saying I told you so."

Amanda innocently looked up at Jody as though the idea had never entered her mind. And she almost…almost pulled it off…

Both women had just begun laughing when Iris burst into Jody’s office, leaving the door swinging back and forth in her wake. Before Amanda or Jody could speak Iris held up a hand in warning.

"I have had enough of you two!" The small redhead pointed a finger at Jody. "I want to see in my office in two minutes!" Jody’s eyes widened. As abruptly as Iris entered, she turned and began marching out. When she reached the door she turned back and pointed at Amanda. "And when I finish with Jody, you’re next." With that, the older therapist shut the door behind her.

Jody and Amanda looked at each other. "Uh…oh," they muttered simultaneously. Jody gulped and slowly made her way out from behind her desk.

"Goodbye, Jody." Amanda winked.

"Bye." Jody said weakly. The muscular brunette walked out of her office looking very much like a schoolgirl that had been sent to the principal’s office. Amanda would have laughed, if it weren’t for the fact that she felt the exact same way.

The young doctor plopped down on Jody’s loveseat and awaited her fate. "Elvis," she closed her eyes, "is it still just Monday?"

*******************************

Jody took a deep breath before she knocked on Iris’ closed door.

"Come in, Jody," came the muffled voice.

Jody slinked in with a contrite expression and closed the door before she leaned against the wall and waited for Iris.

"What’s going on with you two?" asked Iris, her voice gentler than before.

Jody shifted and looked at the ground for a moment. "Amanda is having some problems," she replied.

"Just Amanda?" Iris raised an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah. Her sister paid a visit and wants Missy back. She’s understandably upset," continued Jody, not ready to share any blame.

Iris looked at her in the eye for a long moment. Jody just sighed and looked away.

"I don’t like this Claire person, Iris," the younger woman finally admitted.

"Now, let’s talk about that. Is she causing you two a lot of friction?"

Jody told Iris about the incident at Origami and about their conversation today. "…so I’m not too pleased with Jane Bond, attorney at law," concluded Jody.

"Don't you think Amanda can take care of herself?" Iris shifted in her chair.

Jody slowly nodded her head and leaned back against the wall again. "Of course she can. Amanda is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, it's just this Claire …well… She’s dazzled by this lawyer's good looks... she's been charmed."

The younger woman stared at Iris for a moment, waiting for her to say something. Iris was silent, but blue gray eyes meet Jody's. "So you approve of the relationship, Iris?" she asked confused.

Iris smiled. "It's not for me to approve or disapprove of Amanda's romantic relationships."

Jody felt some anger surfacing. "Don't therapize me, Iris, I'm not one of your damn clients. What are you getting at?" she snapped.

"I don't think I am giving you therapy, Jody. You know me better than that. I'm talking to you colleague to colleague and friend to friend. What is really bothering you?"

Jody closed her eyes and rubbed them with irritation. "I'm sorry I snapped. You're right. It's just, well, I don't like the lawyer," Jody said sheepishly.

"Why don't you like her?"

"The investigation thing for one, she thought we were somehow involved in some sort of scheme," Jody persisted.

Iris nodded. "Didn't she explain why?"

"Yeah, she did. And…well…quite honestly, it made sense. I would be suspicious too, I suppose…" Jody admitted as she nervously began pacing along the shiny wood floor. "Amanda really likes her. I've never seen her this way before. It's just that…" she abruptly stopped when she finally realized what was happening. Closing her eyes with realization, Jody expelled a tortured groan. "I’m jealous of Claire, aren't I. Shit! I didn't realize until now. I've never felt this way when she was with other women. But this one is different. What if she’s the ‘one’ for Amanda?" Jody looked up with anguished eyes. "I don't want to lose my best friend," she spoke quietly.

Iris nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it’s a scary thought. It hit me too. I don't want any changes in our set up or routine. But there’s no evidence that Amanda is going to drop everything. She's not the type to give up her identity, even for something as important as love. Maybe you’re overreacting just a bit?" Iris queried gently.

"And here I am giving her more grief when she has this whole thing with her sister. I need to apologize."

"She needs some time off. This thing with her sister won’t go away easily. She isn’t doing herself or her clients any favor when she’s in this state. We can help her out by doing all her incoming assessments and testing," suggested Iris.

"Yeah, that should help out since she'll only see her regular clients. I'm gonna go and apologize to her."

"When you're done, why don't you both come up so I can let her know about our proposal?"

"Are you gonna bust her chops too?" Jody inquired wryly.

"Nope. I have a feeling you’ve been doing enough of that lately." The younger woman blanched at the unflattering but accurate assessment of her behavior.

Shaking her head in agreement Jody left the office. "We’ll be back in a few, Iris," she called over her shoulder.

*******************************

Jody entered her office expecting to see Amanda milling around among her treasures. The blonde seemed to have a never-ending fascination with her ‘junk’ as she called it. Instead, she saw a pale head slumped against the tall back of the love seat. Jody approached Amanda quietly and stood over her sleeping friend. Poor thing. I’d like to wring Monica’s neck. She always was a brat! Jody smiled affectionately at her partner. "Well, Amanda, I guess I’m gonna have to get used to sharing your time. That is, unless that stupid lawyer finds a way to mess up a good thing," she murmured.

"Who’s stupid?" came the sleepy response, as Amanda shifted around, tipping her head back into a ferocious yawn.

"Nobody." A pause. "Yet," she added. Amanda was too tired to even try to understand Jody’s cryptic statement. She shifted over as the larger woman plopped down next to her.

Amanda laid her hand on her Jody’s knee. "Was Iris mad?" she asked, hoping it wasn’t true. She hated the idea of disappointing the older woman.

"Naaah." Jody drew out the word. "She just wondered what was up with us lately."

"What did you tell her?" Amanda asked, curious herself as to why she and Jody couldn’t seem to move past their latest argument.

"Well…err…" she exhaled loudly. "I should start with an apology, Amanda. It wasn’t right for me to give you such a hard time about Claire. I guess…I don’t know…I’m just a little worried."

Amanda drew her eyebrows together. "About me?"

Jody nodded. "Mostly. You seem to really like her. I’ve never seen you so excited about anyone before. I guess I’m just not handling it very well." Jody paused and began to fidget with the button on her shirt.

Amanda shifted her position. Snuggling deeply into the corner of the loveseat, she threw her legs across Jody lap. Jody smiled at the familiar ‘let’s talk’ gesture.

"Okay, Buddy. Spill it. And I mean all of it," Amanda encouraged as she lightly slapped Jody’s shoulder.

"You know this past year hasn’t been the greatest for me."

Amanda cocked her head to the side and smiled sympathetically.

"I really relied on you a lot after the divorce, maybe too much. I guess…" A deep breath. "I’m a little jealous of Claire. I got sort of used to it being just you, me, and Missy," she rushed out.

Amanda’s eyes widened slightly but she remained silent.

"I’ve acted like a real bitch, Amanda. I’m sorry. I’ll try my best to be civil to her and respect the fact that you like her."

Amanda’s eyes widened further. This was an unprecedented apology and concession from her old friend. When Jody turned to face her, Amanda could see the regret written all over her friend’s face.

Smiling, she put her friend at ease with an admission of her own. "It’s okay, Jody. I know just how you feel. I felt the same way when you married Chester. And I seriously considered hiring a hit man when the fool ran off with his secretary."

Both women laughed. "Apology accepted then?" Jody asked as she flashed Amanda her sad face.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Of course, ya duffus."

The older woman patted her legs. "Time to get up ya bum, Iris wants to see us both now." Amanda swung her legs back down to the floor and stood up with a groan.

"God, this has been the longest day. I think I need a vacation." Jody shut off the lights as she and Amanda left the office.

"Funny you should say that…"

*******************************

"Iris, I appreciate the thought, I truly do, but I'm capable of doing my job," Amanda sat on Iris' leather couch and tucked her legs up underneath her.

"This isn't about whether you can do your job. You’re under a great amount of pressure right now. You need a break. Take care of the situation with Monica and come back. Jody and I can pick up your assessments and testing. You can still see your clients. There's no harm done," persisted Iris.

Amanda wanted to argue, but realized her mentor was right. The thought of Monica trying to take Missy back made her stomach twist. Some time off would give her a chance to get centered again and spend more time with Claire. She felt a momentary pang of guilt at wanting to spend time with Claire in the middle of this mess with her sister. But I’d love every minute it, her heart added.

"I've never been so afraid of losing Missy to Monica before," admitted Amanda softly. For the second time that day, the blonde poured out the story of the past few days.

"I feel so defeated." Amanda rubbed tired green eyes again. "Or, maybe it’s just that I’m worn out. I don’t think I slept more than a couple hours these past two nights combined," Amanda finished tiredly.

"I've never known you to be defeated in any way shape or form, no matter what the circumstances. Things haven’t been all bad the past few days, right?" said Iris.

"You mean Claire?"

"You, Missy, and Claire."

Missy, Claire and I. I could get used to that, Amanda thought with a shy smile.
 

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