Disclaimers: The prerequisite disclaimers.

Intellectual Property: The characters are wholly my own. Any similarities drawn between them and any persons, plants, or animals, living and dead, are figments of your imagination. However, some places and products mentioned in the story do exist. No infringement is intended. (Hey, look on the bright side! Free publicity! Yeah!)

Ratings/Language/Violence: R-rated. Generally, the language and violence is mild, as is the sex. However, at risk of spoiling some surprises, the story deals with sensitive issues like overbearing parents, youth violence, rape, and murder.

Sex: Love is expressed between two consenting ladies. If that bothers you, then for the love of God (or a higher being or beings, if any), get help.

Age: If this material is illegal where you live and/or if you are underage then find something else to do.

NOTES: Mickey is NOT the main character. Be patient and you'll meet the two leading heroines in no time at all. Also, this story takes place over about the span of a decade. If you want to see sign language, go to this web site. http://www.bconnex.net/~randys/

If you have any feedback, suggestions, or comments, please let the bard know at sarkel_bard@yahoo.com You are guaranteed a reply if you so wish. Constructive criticism is accepted J

I'd also like to thank everyone who helped. Thanks to Steph, Critic, Ink, and everyone else who has contributed.

Many people have asked me about my posting policy, so here's a rundown. I have a personal policy to post at least once a week, but if I am ahead of schedule or have extra time, I'll post more than once.

A Note: In the story, when Sam (or someone who is signing) murmurs, mumbles or whatever, they are not speaking. The 'screams' 'whispers' and so forth are merely the sign language equivalent.

Part 6

Well, the big week had arrived, and the big day was tomorrow. Tomorrow. Where had the time gone, Sam asked herself as she approached the house where she and her father had lived alone for the past ten years. After tomorrow, she'd be sharing it with three unwelcome additions. Ah well, at least two of them were cute. She pulled Dino into the driveway and pressed the automatic garage door opener. To the young woman's chagrin, a Pinto sat like a sore thumb in the spot reserved for her Dino. Exasperated, Sam turned the ignition off.

Corny, the playful canine rapscallion, bounced up to his contemplative mistress, panting excitedly. "Whuff!" he whined.

"Hey, boy." Sam tousled the mutt's coarse fur absent-mindedly. At least the Albrechts didn't have a pet, especially a dog, of their own. Corny was too set in his ways.

Sam inhaled, picked up her bag, drew back her shoulders, and strode up to the house. Just as she was about to open the door, an enthusiastic, overgrown, blonde dog and a smaller but just as vigorous pup beat her to the task. Upon closer inspection, Sam concluded that the canines were none other than Susan's kids. Great. She was stuck with yapping blondes for the afternoon. Couldn't she have at least one last day alone in her home? She felt a surge of anger rise and checked her emotions. Better get used to it. They're going to be living here full time beginning tomorrow, if they aren't already.

Allen immediately wrapped himself around Sam's leg. "'Copter ride!" he signed, making a helicopter with his hands.

"Later." Sam signed but grinned as she bent down to hug the towhead quickly.

"Hey Sam!" Allison leaped into the new arrival's arms for a spirited hug, thrusting the prerequisite note in her face. "You won't believe what's been happening around here. There's so much packing to do and moving. I found all of the coolest things in my old room! My lost necklace, a two-dollar bill, pictures. You won't believe what I've found under my bed! I'd have to show you those. Mom did some redecorating."

Sam's future stepmother barely blinked an eye as the two teenagers and the young boy passed through the living room. She clucked disapprovingly at the obscene display of leather jacket and beat up jeans that constituted Samantha Cannizarro. Her almost-stepdaughter returned the gesture by not gracing the redhead with even a glance.

Time to play dumb. "Where's Susan?" asked the new arrival, signing and gesturing bigger than usual.

Susan's ears and eyes pricked up curiously. She always knew when she was the subject of conversation.

Allison's brows furrowed and she pointed to the couch, mere feet away, and to the woman who sat on it watching tv. "Momma, look who's here!"

Sam shifted her gaze and studied the furniture. Deadpan, she slowly replied: "Oh, I thought that was just a new couch. No wonder I didn't like it."

Susan's blood pressure rose as an obvious glimmer of disapproval crossed her face. That girl! She had no idea what Beauregard's daughter had said, but she knew it hadn't been complimentary.

Allison stared at Sam; why did she continually insult her mother? Her companion shrugged. "I liked the old couch better. Where's daddy?"

Susan immediately recognized the sign for father. "Honey-dewie's out. He should return shortly," she chirped in a singsong voice. "Translate, Allison."

The blonde conveyed the message as her mother returned to her talk show. Sam sighed and retreated to the staircase. Of all times for her father to be out. Allen followed behind his exotic new friend, nearly tripping over his own feet in excitement, and tugged on her shirt. "Wanna read with me, Sammy?" He proudly exhibited a book.

Doesn't the kiddo do anything fun? Sam had absolutely nothing against reading but seemingly, all the towhead did was read and play with educational Susan-approved toys. His mother would hear of nothing dangerous or dirty like violent toys for the son of the love of her life.

Sam swooped the boy up in her strong arms and carried him to her bedroom, where they proceeded to play a hearty video game. The older gamer let Allen win the first competition, then narrowly defeated him in the second game so he wouldn't think she was letting him win. As they started their third game, Allison stood in the doorway of Sam's room and watched with interest. The dark-haired girl was obviously letting Allen win. A smile snuck up slowly on Allison's face as she watched her baby interact with the deaf girl. Sam seemed to bond with Allen relatively easily. Allison wondered for a moment if the older girl had taken to the boy so easily because he reminded her of her baby brother, Lucas, although the two tots looked nothing alike. Poor Sam, she must be hurting.

Sam sensed that she was being watched and quickly turned to catch Allison surveying the scene, a thoughtful expression on her face. Spying on me are you? You think it's funny I'm being beaten by a three-year-old kid? Just wait and see. She returned to the game and proceeded to beat Allen's pants off. So there! Sam turned to catch the blonde's reaction but she was gone. Without an audience, Sam growled at Allen. "Beat it, squirt." Her scare tactic didn't work, as the boy laughed at the funny growl.

"Out!" she seethed. "O-u-t!"

The towhead got the message, scrambled to his feet, and rushed out of the room, giggling hysterically. He liked Sammy. She groaned as she recalled the plans for the week. What a spring break! At least there would be no rehearsal dinner.

Sam took a grand tour of the house. Susan hadn't made any major changes yet, but doubtless she'd sink in her claws permanently before long. The dark-haired girl's room was untouched - thank the Gods! Sam would kill her new stepfamily if her privacy was invaded. Allison's room was big and pink, no surprise there. Allen's room was the same old boring four walls, with landscapes and absolutely harmless toys. The way Sam saw it, there was no end in sight of her bad luck.

"Barry-poo!" Allison's mother said at the dinner table, trying to cover up her bad mood. A blanket of snow had fallen that afternoon, canceling all rehearsal and wedding-eve events. "We're getting married tomorrow! I'm just so lucky! Are you sure you won't tell me where you're taking me on the honeymoon?"

Barry shook his head, smiling, his eyes shining. He'd never been happier.

"Allison, is Joshua free for the wedding? You did ask him months ago."

Allison shook her head as she kept track of the conversation for Sam. "Don't worry. My date's Kevin Smythers."

Susan shrieked. "Finally you've come to your senses! I am so glad you dumped Joshua. He didn't treat you right. Samantha, Beauregard, you just have to meet Kevin! He has the most silky chestnut brown hair and such cute dimples!" The redhead imitated Kevin's hunkiness for her future stepdaughter's benefit. Samantha probably wouldn't know Adonis if he hit her on the head.

Sam toyed with the idea of flipping a forkful of potatoes at Susan. The damn woman seemed more enthusiastic about Kevin than Allison did.

"He is so wonderful!" continued the redhead. "Of course you have my blessing, Allison Alexandra, just as long as he's good on the ballroom floor. My Beauie-poo is such a wonderful dancer. I'm going to have our song playing all night. Be prepared to waltz the night away. No wallflowers! Allison, you've got to get out there and bust some moves. Don't be shy. I do wish you weren't such a horrible dancer."

"Sam's a great dancer. I'll have to break out the pictures and show y'all tonight. She took lessons before Norene died." Barry turned to his daughter. "You got a date, Sam?"

She smiled. "Sure I do."

"Sammy asked me to go with her!" Allen exclaimed. "We dance 'copter rides!"

Susan blanched. "Samantha, please. Not at the wedding." She fanned herself with a napkin as she perspired at the thought of her children making such a scene at the church. Heaven forbid!

Beauregard had the gall to laugh. "I'm glad to see this family bonding."

Susan's scowl quickly morphed into a smile. "Samantha, what a lovely idea! Allison, why don't you invite another friend for Sam? After all, Allen will tire quickly."

Allison interpreted slowly for the deaf girl, who wasn't pleased with the news. "Susan's the one who said I couldn't bring Paul!" Sam cried. "Just because he has green hair and piercings!" She glared accusingly at her father.

Barry sighed. "Susie-pea, don't worry. Everything will go smoothly. Hey, Sam can even give Allison some tips on dancing. How about it?" He turned to his daughter earnestly.

"It's been a while," she answered briefly.

"Any help will help!" Allison smiled.

Susan doubled over with laughter, tears filling her eyes. "Beauregard, honestly! Darling Samantha is deaf! I'm sure she's a good dancer for a disabled person, but honestly! She can't hear the music, much less dance to it."

Allison interpreted the message for Sam in milder language.

Barry raised an eyebrow. "Actually, Susan, deaf people can make excellent dancers. They can feel the music wonderfully because of the vibrations. They can do anything they set their minds to, and my daughter has the world in her hands. And do not call her disabled or handicapped. The only thing she cannot do is hear."

"Oh!" exclaimed the soon to be bride. She'd offended her Beauregard. "Oh, dewie, of course! I didn't realize. Do tell darling Samantha that!"

Barry sighed. His gem just needed to spend more time with his daughter. While his fiancée cleared the dishes after dinner, suddenly in the mood for reminiscing and bragging about Sam. The big man walked downstairs, to the basement, and spotted the dusty cardboard box, its lid still taped. Wow. Haven't opened it since… they died. The widower fished a pocketknife from his pocket and sliced the container. Dust, the musty smell, the other telltale signs of neglect, and the memories, oh, the memories, immediately flew up and pounded him in the face.

A tear fell down his cheek as he lifted Lucas's baby book. He and Norene had made and decorated the album themselves. Barry flipped through the pages, not brave enough to remain on any one page or picture for too long, indescribable sadness filled his whole being. Susan Albrecht made him happy - delirious - but no matter how he went about it, his childhood sweetheart and their darling son were dead. Lucas would be 14 years old now, had he lived. Dating girls and probably breaking hearts left and right with his wavy black hair and startling blue eyes. He and Norene would have recently celebrated their 20th wedding anniversary. They always talked and joked about growing old together and dying in each other's arms and being buried side by side. That was one thing he and Susan never discussed.

He thought he'd gotten over their deaths and moved on. Norene and Lucas had been gone for ten years! Apparently, not.

"Barry? Did you find those pictures of Sam when she was in dance school?"

The soft voice caused him to jump and he clutched the book to his stomach guiltily.

"Are you ok?" Allison asked, taking Barry's strong hand in hers. She looked into the older man's nerve-wracked face. "Are you crying?"

The muscular man shook his head, ashamed, and wiped a tear away. He was getting married tomorrow, for Pete's sake!

"Oh, Barry, it's all right," Allison soothed. "What's that? Can I see?"

Barry nodded silently and handed the book to the blonde, willing his dam of tears not to fall.

Allison smiled as she studied the book briefly. "Lucas's baby book, huh? You must miss him and Norene."

The dam burst and tears flowed down Barry's face as his back slumped. He cried as he had never cried before, no longer holding his feelings prisoner, mourning the loss of those dear to him.

Allison wasn't intimidated or scared away. She wanted to help Barry, ease his pain. "Come here," she whispered, gently taking his hand in hers and leading him to the couch a few feet away. "Come here."

"Oh, Allison!" He finally spoke, his voice choked with sobs, unable to look into the innocent face. "I'm so sorry!"

"Don't be. It's ok to cry," Allison murmured as her future stepfather wrapped his strong arms around her slight body and sobbed on her chest, years and years of heartache finally breaking free.

"I never… never cried when they died. Can't remember the last time I cried. Sam did… with her aunt. She's like me, you know." Barry disengaged himself from Allison's embrace and sheepishly met her gaze. "Tough on the outside, but just a big teddy bear inside." He chuckled. "Allison, please don't tell your mother about this… I love her with all my heart and want to marry her. I just…"

Allison smiled. "I know. Don't worry. Barry, maybe someday you could tell me about Norene and Lucas? They must have been very special."

The widower nodded, blowing his nose into a handkerchief. "Oh, they were. I'd love to tell you all about them someday." He opened the album to a random page. "Look at this, see? That's my son. Picture taken a few weeks before he died. There's Corny right beside him." Lucas, at four, was swimming in a pond with the faithful dog in tow, under a brilliant blue summer sky. "My son." Barry sighed and closed the album gently. "I'm the kind of person who doesn't dwell on the past and what I don't have. I've got the world." He smiled and stood up.

Allison watched him shuffle back to the box, wondering if his statement had been more of an attempt to convince himself than to convince her. She watched meditatively as he located his prey. "Presto! Here are Sam's dance pictures from when she was five and six. Mind taking them upstairs? I just need a few minutes."

"Sure." Allison rose from the couch and squeezed the older man's hand supportively. His eyes were red and puffy, but he still managed to maintain a proud and strong composure. She hugged him quickly, feeling like a good cry herself. She made her way upstairs, the dance album in her hand, her heart nearly breaking with his. He was in so much pain.

"Allison!" her mother called suspiciously from the sink where she was furiously scrubbing the dishes. "What exactly were you and Beauregard up to downstairs?"

"Nothing," was Allison's simple answer. She wasn't in the mood anymore to dance around her mother's land mine of an emotional state. "I helped him find Sam's dance pictures."

Susan growled. She and Beauregard weren't even legitimate, and already her daughter was trying to steal her man again. But then again, she'd never married Bob. "Your ways won't work this time, Allison Alexandra!" she snapped.

The boy looked up from the couch, his stomach queasy as he listened to the exchange. His mother yelled at his sister too much. Sometimes Al would cry, especially if momma hit her. He liked his sister better. He wished she could be his mommy, or maybe Sammy, who was really an alien. At least now that he had a new daddy, his momma didn't yell at him as much. Sometimes she would crawl into his bed at night and be real nice. She'd rub his head and say: "I love you" so many times he always lost count. During those times, she might call him Bob. If he said, "Momma, I'm Allen," she would get that mad look on her face and smack him on the bottom. It hurt. So now when she called him Bob, he let her.

"Momma," said Allison wearily. "Please."

The back door slammed and Sam charged through the doorway, Corny's leash in her hand. She must have taken the canine for a short romp in the snow. Grateful for the distraction, the blonde waved the album teasingly in the dark-haired girl's direction. Her blue eyes widened as her mouth formed an O. Sam would die if anyone saw those pictures! Besides, she didn't want to give her future stepmother any ideas.

Allison laughed. Payback time for making fun of my naked baby pictures.

"Hey!" Barry thundered up the stairs.

"Daddy!" signed Sam in embarrassment.

The older man chuckled as he took the album from Allison. It wasn't often that he managed to one-up his daughter.

Susan watched them from the kitchen. Beauregard hadn't even waited for her to finish. He was proudly displaying Samantha's dance pictures, his wicked daughter half-scowling, half-laughing during the stroll down memory lane. Allen sat on his sister's lap but soon got up to do a lumbering pirouette or two. Rage filled the redhead's heart. Allison Alexandra was making damn sure that her mother wasn't part of the family. They were a family, except for Susan. Not this time, she vowed to herself. Her bitch of a daughter would pay.

Sam swerved to miss a fire hydrant, bumped into the curb, and then returned Dino to the street unscathed. Her boy was better than those fancy-schmancy cars. Why did Susan have to get married at an ancient church an hour away? The witch had insisted on getting hitched at the most exclusive church in the area, a grand cathedral that had seen many celebrity weddings. D-day had arrived, and none too soon. Today was the Event.

St. Peter's Church was old and ornate; stained glass windows graced the heaven-reaching walls and ceiling. It smelled like old wood and perfume, the carpets plush and blood red. Several hundred pews composed the main room and a white arc of roses had been erected for the recital of the wedding vows. Thousands of dollars worth of flowers decorated the ends of the pews and peeked out of every nook and cranny of the church.

A disgruntled Sam and a peppy Allison sat in the dressing room with the other members of the wedding party, outfitted to the nines in their bridesmaids' outfits and shoes. Allison was primping her hair although it had been perfect the last ten times she had fixed it. Sam arrived with her hair down, but Susan's sister, Jackie, the co-matron of honor along with Feather Light, wouldn't hear of it.

Sam recalled Jackie's words and rolled her eyes. Ruin the wedding because my hair isn't perfect. As if. She squeezed her eyes shut as Jackie pumped yet another gallon of hairspray in her future niece's direction, trying to give her luxuriant hair "just the right curl." The young woman was ready to commit mass murder. She could blame it on all the chemicals floating in the air.

"Agh!" Sam shrieked as a sharp object wielded by her feminine future stepsister protruded her eyebrows. Allison attacked Sam with an eyeliner and lipstick as her victim shielded her face and glared at the forced administration of makeup.

"No make up!"

Allison looked up at Sam's gorgeous face and cupped it in her hand. She knew just the trick.

"You're beautiful, Sam, but Aunt Jackie wants lipstick and mascara on you and I'm not getting on her bad side. You should see what it's like to be on her bad side. It's not something you want to experience. Jackie can get upset so easily. The makeup won't kill you and I promise no one will hear from me that you wore makeup. I mean, gosh, all it's going to do is accentuate your lips and eyes. Don't worry. Jackie is as excited about this wedding as if it was her own."

"Agh!" Sam shrieked again. "Stop! Stop! If I let you put that goop on me will you shut up?" She pleaded silently with her striking blue eyes. Allison smirked; the ploy had worked beautifully but of course, she wouldn't let on. The blonde shrugged nonchalantly, her green eyes twinkling.

"Better me than Jackie or Feather. Shall I go get them?" Allison asked as she continued to tease Sam.

"No!" Sam yelped. "Just hurry up." The blonde giggled as Sam closed her eyes and became stiff as a rock while Allison gingerly applied the clown paint.

She smiled as she put the finishing touches on the brunette's face. She really should take advantage of her natural assets. She didn't know how lucky she was. Her future stepsister looked so sharp and beautiful in the bridesmaid's gown, her flowing black hair and copious bosoms emphasized.

"Oh, Susan!" exclaimed Feather. "You are the most beautiful bride ever! Other than me of course!"

Susan smiled graciously. "You're too kind, Feather. I'm just so nervous because the snow canceled the rehearsal yesterday."

Jackie took a note from an attendant at the door and announced. "I have a note for you from Barry."

"That's so romantic!" Allison gushed to Sam, clutching her arm. "Oh, Sam… tonight we'll be sisters."

"Yay." Sam responded tonelessly but did not rebuke Allison's touch.

"I'm just so nervous!" Susan cried. "Jacqueline, what if Beauregard doesn't want to marry me after all?"

If only, thought his daughter.

"Now, now." Jackie tore the envelope open and read the note inside as her niece interpreted for Sam. "My darling Susan: You've made me the happiest man on Earth and I can't wait to make you my wife. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. You've made me whole again, Susan. When you walk down that aisle and say: "I do," the world, just for a moment, will be ours. Precious Susan, I can't wait for us to spend our lives together. Love, Your little Schoolboy."

There was not a dry eye in the room, save for Sam's cynical blues. With a heavy heart, she realized, for once and for all, that her father was head over heels in love. She'd just have to accept the relationship. Aunt Julia was right.

The blonde let go of Sam's arm. "That was just so romantic!" she sniffled. "Your dad sure has a way with words."

Allison approached the bride. "Momma, I'm so happy for you!" She squeezed her mother gently, then let go. "Good luck!" The redhead merely nodded at her distraction of a daughter, her mind on more important matters.

"Time to file in!" warned the wedding consultant. "Line up, line up. Follow me."

"Oh, it's time. Let's go!" Allison seized Sam's hand and towed her to the queue.

The bridesmaids and the best men took their positions. As Sam cautiously glided down the aisle and throughout the entire wedding, she felt like a fool. She was self-conscious, like every eye on the church was glued onto her. She swallowed and stared straight ahead, glad she wasn't the bride.

She had to restrain herself from yawning throughout the ceremony. Her father and the witch had decided to write their own disgustingly lovey-dovey vows. Sam had declined the services of an interpreter. She always felt awkward and self-conscious with one along and she wasn't particularly interested in the sappy shit her father and Susan would have to say.

"To Thee I wed, forever, until the seas dissipate and the rocks melt. When the sun burns out, together we shall be," wept Susan as she completed her vows.

The minister beamed happily. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Beauregard Bartholomew Cannizarro. Barry, you may kiss the bride."

"Thank you, Pastor." Barry's eyes shone as he took his wife in his arms and kissed her, a renewed sense of energy, spirituality, and vitality running through his body. His wife. Oh, how he loved her. She made him happy and whole again.

After the ceremony and the requisite photographs, the wedding party headed to the reception hall. Time for the good part: food, thought Sam.

She walked with her father, stepmother, stepsister, and stepbrother. Happiness radiated from her father's normally stern face as he held his wife's hand, but his eyes remained peeled. Where in the hell were his parents? They'd promised to arrive early this morning.

"Beauregard!" shrilled a voice in the distance. "Beauregard! Oh, George, is that our son? Certainly that can't be our granddaughter in a dress!"

Barry grinned. They'd made it. "Susie," he whispered. "There they are." He hadn't seen his parents in over a year.

Allison stopped Sam and updated her on the events. "Your dad's parents are here. See?" She pointed to two approaching figures. "This is so cool. I'll finally get to meet a real live senator!"

The brunette rolled her eyes. Big deal.

"Well, son." George Cannizarro was an older version of his only child, just as tall and muscular as he. "Congratulations." He shook the younger man's hand firmly. "Sorry we're late. This must be your wife. Susan, is it?"

Susan nodded eagerly and curtsied. "A pleasure, Senator Cannizarro. Mrs. Cannizarro."

In turn, George's wife, Barry's mother, could have been Susan's twin, save twenty years older.

Sam noticed the uncanny resemblance for the first time and chalked up an extra point for the psychiatrists. Like her daughter-in-law, Sofia Cannizarro possessed a healthy figure and a permanently grouchy face. "Susanna!" exclaimed the elder female Cannizarro. "So nice to meet you!" She hugged her daughter-in-law then turned to George and whispered. "Better than Norene."

"Senator, ma'am," Barry said proudly, introducing his two wonderful and healthy stepchildren. "And this young lady here is none other than your granddaughter." He gently pushed Sam towards her grandparents.

Sam smiled and hugged them perfunctorily as her grandmother tugged at her cheeks. "This vision simply cannot be Samantha! Oh, how lovely she is!"

Barry chuckled. "My little girl's grown up, Senator."

Twenty torturous minutes later, the wedding party lined up for the announcement and introduction of Mr. and Mrs. Beauregard Bartholomew Cannizarro. Barry and Susan strode into the room arm in arm and took the floor for the first dance. The groom was beaming enough wattage to light a football field at night while the bride had eyes only for him. Everything was going perfectly, thought Barry. His parents were here, they loved Susan, and his daughter was minding her manners.

The newlyweds danced up a storm and then the wedding party took the floor. Sam picked up her stepbrother and held him as they waltzed around the ballroom, the boy shouting in glee. The lithe and limber young woman was easily the best dancer, usurping even the blushing bride in terms of attention received. Sam was amazing, a rarity, the kind that would make even a bear look perfect with her.

Susan fumed at her stepdaughter's stealing of the show, however unintentional. She, being the bride, was supposed to be the center of the attention, damn it. Her own bimbo of a daughter wasn't doing well either, and was embarrassing her further. Kevin and Allison were dancing like clumsy fourth graders, stepping all over each other's feet.

For the second dance, Allen danced with his mother as Sam danced with her father. "Congratulations, daddy." Sam smiled as she smoothed her father's hair back. "You're happy, aren't you?"

Tears came to Barry's eyes. "You're so beautiful tonight. Your acceptance of this marriage means a lot to Susan and me. I hope you, in time, will grow to love Susan and the kids as much as I love you."

"Yeah. Love you too, dad." Sam kissed her father on the cheek and allowed Allison to dance with her new stepfather.

Sam found her date and cajoled him back to the dance floor so she could survey her stepsister's date, the wonderful Kevin. Chestnut hair? Ha! The adolescent's mop was a limp dull brown color. Ugh. Your typical prepubescent boy. He couldn't dance worth a damn. Sam thanked her lucky stars that she'd nabbed the ideal date. Her stepbrother was a little cherub with a charming laugh, his blond hair slicked and gelled back. Indeed, Susan's children obviously took after their father. Nothing this cute could come from that woman.

After a few circuits of the dance floor, Sam and Allen made their way to the buffet. She heaped up a high pile of food for herself and Allen and led the boy to a table.

Allison caught sight of Sam and Allen. "Oh, Kevin. Sam is such a good big sister with Allen. She's really looking out for him!" Allison studied her date. He was a handsome guy, tall and muscular with a discreet dimple, deep brown hair and brown eyes to die for. The blonde knew that she was the envy of half the cheerleading squad tonight, dancing with the hunky son of a local television personality.

"Say. Who's that girl over there?" Kevin motioned his head towards a tall girl with curly brown hair.

Allison turned around. "Her? That's momma's friend's daughter. Uhh… I think her name is Katie. She's single if you're interested."

Kevin grinned. "Ya mind?"

Allison shook her head. "Of course not."

"Thanks for the invite. I'm gonna introduce myself. Have fun and see you later." Kevin abandoned his date.

She brought her own plateful of food to where her brother and stepsister were sitting. They bantered for a while, watching both sets of Cannizarros tear up the dance floor, the elder couple trying to outdo the younger pair.

"My feet are killing me!" Sam complained as she slid her heels off. "I don't know how women do it. And I haven't worn a dress since the third grade. Now I remember why."

Allison grinned. "That's right. I forgot you were an alien."

Sam laughed. "What's the word on your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend. Just a friend, a date for the night."

The bride noted with chagrin that her children and stepdaughter were eating too much, being gloomy Gusses, and ruining her night. Because of the selfish ingrates she couldn't bask in the love of her new husband.

Susan danced her way to their table. "Allison Alexandra, why is your date with Katie? Samantha Alice, why aren't you on the floor? Get up and dance! You can eat later. Besides Allison, your dress seems a bit…tight. Go work that calorie off!" She glanced sternly at her daughter's diet soda.

"Momma! Kevin is just a friend and he can dance with Katie if he likes. I just want to watch you and Barry dance. You are so perfect together."

"Let's show them what we're made out of." Barry grinned and whisked away with his new wife, ignoring her whining that their daughters were neither dancing nor having fun. "Oh Honey-lilac. They're just shy," he cajoled. "Forget about them."

Susan fluttered her eyelashes lovingly at her handsome hubby. Tonight was one night she wouldn't let her ungrateful daughter ruin. She pushed all thoughts of Allison Alexandra out of her mind, instead fantasizing about her honeymoon.

ENTRY 2 EXCERPT:DIARY OF MICHAEL RATZLAFF

PIXIE'S MOMMY MARRIED THE DYKE'S DADDY. I BETTER RESCUE THE BLONDIE BEFORE THE DYKE DOES ANYTHING TO HER. I GUESS IM HER NEW "KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR". THE PARENTS ARE GONE ALL WEEK-GOOD TIME FOR ME TO PAY THE LITTLE DESSERT PIECE A VISIT. YEAH… SHE GONNA BE GLAD TO SEE ME! GOOD OL' MICK'S BACK. ONCE THE BITCH GETS BACK TO SCHOOL… THE PIXIE'S GONNA BE SEEING MICK.

After the reception, Barry and Susan flew for a one-week stint in the Caribbean, leaving Allison and Sam in charge of each other and of Allen. Susan had been thrilled; Beauregard was treating her to the Bahamas. She was already one-upping her parents, who had honeymooned in New York for a weekend.

Sam drove them all home and tore off her dress immediately, tossing it into the trashcan. Allison did the exact opposite and carefully removed her dress, hanging it up in a plastic bag. "You never know. Besides it'll be a good memory piece," she explained.

Sam simply rolled her eyes. Who would want to remember today? She stretched languidly on the living room couch, looking forward to having the huge TV screen all to herself, but Allison joined her after putting Allen to bed.

"Wasn't today a wonderful day, Sam?" Allison asked dreamily. "Your dad and my momma are so happy together. I hope one day we can achieve that level of happiness and contentment. Don't you?"

Sam ignored Allison's novice signing and switched channels.

"Well, wouldn't you?"

"No." Sam answered briefly.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't care if you're happy or not. Leave me alone." She was in a foul mood as reality struck home. Allison and Allen were here to stay, Susan was her stepmother, and the unthinkable nightmare had come true.

"Grow up! I was talking about living in bliss and just being in love. Wouldn't you want that? What about Paul?" Allison answered furiously.

"Not me. I don't know about Paul, though. Do you like Paul or what?" Sam accused.

"No!" Allison cried. "I… just want to get to know you better is all. So, don't you want someone to grow old with?"

"Oh please. In fifty years all you see are wrinkles and limp body parts and liver spots and changing bedpans."

"A warm body to share your bed with. Someone to share your dreams and hopes with?"

"Someone that hogs the covers and the bed, someone that leaves you for some young little thing after a while."

"Children and family."

"Brats that run around screaming and crying, fights at family reunions, drunk uncles chasing their sisters-in-law, diapers and 2 a.m. feedings."

"Someone to care for."

"Then they die and abandon you. Break your heart."

"Wouldn't you want an adventurous soul to share your life with?"

"Adventurous only means they've slept with more people than I ever will."

Allison nodded gravely. "Isn't there anything positive about love? About sharing your life with someone? You're so good with Allen. Why don't you want children?"

"I just don't. I'm better off alone. I'm a loner. I like doing things my way."

Sighing, Allison propped herself up. "Come on Sam. Look upon life in a more positive light, won't you?"

The pessimistic brunette ignored the question. "Want to watch this movie? It just started." Sam strolled into the kitchen and signed. "Want popcorn?"

Allison shrugged. "Ok by me. I wouldn't want a honeymoon in the Bahamas. I'd prefer the Greek Islands or the Alps of Europe. I could just cuddle up in front of the fire while it's cold outside!"

"From the looks of it, you'd have to find a boyfriend first before jumping all the way to the honeymoon. You really need to get laid, don't you?"

"Chill. No need to be rude. I'm saving myself for that special person, my soul mate."

Sam scoffed. "Soul mates don't exist, honey. You've better luck finding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."

Allison scowled. "Don't be such a spoilsport. Let's just watch the movie. When you meet the one, your attitude will change."

Sam shrugged. "Yadda, yadda, whatever." She sat down and handed a bowl of popcorn to Allison, keeping one for herself. "Enjoy."

Allison took advantage of her week long vacation from school the same way she did every year. She worked longer hours each day at work, which meant Sam had to baby-sit Allen often. Sam hadn't been pleased about that, as it meant a limitation on her trips with Paul. She wouldn't subject the innocent tyke to strange Paul. Allison had her license back, although with her driving skills, the blonde had no doubt it would be suspended again soon. She inherited her mother's Pinto when Barry bought Susan a Cadillac.

Allen woke Sam up at 8 a.m., jumping on her bed. "Breakfast, breakfast, breakfast!" he signed cheerfully, forming a "b" with his hands on his chin.

"Go back to sleep you little brat!" Sam snarled. "Leave me alone." She shoved the hungry boy away and burrowed under the covers, returning to sleep almost immediately.

Allen blew out a heavy breath. He was hungry and didn't want to wait for his new sister to wake up. He climbed off the bed and dragged himself to the door, casting a glance backward to the sleeping figure. Allison usually woke up with him and fixed them both a bowl of cereal. But now that she was working, it was Sammy's turn to do it. He shrugged as he paddled downstairs. He was a big boy; he could get his own breakfast.

His eyes widened as he realized he could have anything for breakfast. Anything. He grinned; his new house was cool because Barry had cookies and real soda pop. The towhead remembered Barry putting some boxes of cookies on the top shelf of the pantry. They were way too high and the boy heaved a sigh of disappointment. He would have to wait 'til Sammy woke up. He tottered into the kitchen but found nothing fun to eat. Oh, well, Sammy would be up soon. He settled back on the couch and watched cartoons avidly for a few hours until his stomach betrayed him. He just couldn't wait any longer.

Allen dragged a chair to the pantry and clambered on and rose on his toes, stretching his arms to eternity but still couldn't reach the top shelf. He knew cookies had to be there. He stuck out his tongue as he stepped on the ledge. They seemed strong enough and he gripped the next shelf, climbing it like a ladder. His head poked above his destination.

A smile appeared as he saw several boxes of cookies. Mecca! He chewed his lip as he tried to decide which box he wanted to take. He reached for the chocolate chip brand but could only get within an inch. Frustrated he lunged for the sweets and lost his footing. His last thought was that the floor seemed so far away.

Sam peeked from below the covers a few hours later. Bleary eyed, she glanced at the clock. High noon. She and Allison had stayed up watching movies and hanging out until the wee hours. Her stepsister was turning out to be good company after all. Maybe she'd stop by The Addict and talk to her, getting free coffee in the meanwhile. Seeing Allen would cheer her up.

She stepped out of bed and stretched her long frame. By rote of habit, she ambled into the shower and quickly dressed. Her stomach was growling and she bet that Allen was hungry too. What had he been doing all morning? Was he even awake?

Allen's bedroom door was open, his bed unmade. Sam clambered downstairs; the kid was probably glued to the television, watching cartoons. The baby-sitter covered the first floor, but there was no sign of the towhead. Could Allison have taken him to work with her? Better check the refrigerator and make sure. She walked into the kitchen. No note. "Hey!" she called out, hoping he'd hear the sound and come running. No little boy was forthcoming.

Sam swore. She hated baby-sitting and children. Well, she wouldn't worry; the tyke could take care of himself. She opened the refrigerator door, grabbed a can of pop, and headed into the pantry for a snack.

Her stepbrother lay on the pantry floor under a pile of canned goods, cookies, cleaning supplies, and shelves. "Motherfucker!" Sam cried as she dropped the can and dashed to the still and crumpled figure. She remembered the half-assed job she'd done installing the shelves a few years ago. She'd been mad at her father for something or the other at the time.

She shook Allen frantically but he wouldn't wake up. His head was soaked in blood and his hand clutched a package of cookies. Apparently he'd wanted a box of cookies from the top shelf. He'd climbed the shelves and had fallen. "Damn!"

She cradled Allen in her arms and sped him to the hospital via Dino. How long had he been unconscious? Was he dying?

Sam ran all the red lights and stop signs, arriving at the hospital in ten minutes. Holding Allen close to her, she raced to the emergency entrance and charged through the door. A levelheaded nurse took control of the situation immediately. Allen was wheeled into the trauma room on a stretcher within a few minutes.

"Calm down, ma'am," the nurse said rationally. "We're getting a doctor right now."

Sam wrung her hands and wiped the sweat off on her jeans, then ran her hands through her hair.

Another nurse stayed behind to question the distraught young woman. "What happened?"

"I don't know… he fell about seven feet from a shelf in the pantry. He was laying under a pile of cans and other stuff when I found him," Sam explained on a piece of paper.

"When did he fall?"

"I don't know!" Sam wailed. "Will he be ok?" If anything happened to Allen, she would never forgive herself. Mom, Lucas, her maternal grandparents, and now…

"What relation are you to the boy? Please fill out this form for insurance purposes." The nurse shoved a clipboard under Sam's nose.

"He's my stepbrother." Sam scrutinized the form. She knew his name but that was it. Shit, when her father and Susan found out… She was dead meat.

"We'll need to contact the boy's parents," said the nurse.

Fuck. "I'll call my stepmother. Excuse me for a moment." Better Allison than the honeymooning couple. Sam rushed to a nearby cluster of pay phones and located one with a built-in TTY (teletype device). She dialed a toll-free number for a relay operator who would translate her typed words into voice. The TTY beeped and slid out, the relay operator on the line. She typed in a flurry of numbers and words and waited for the operator to dial Allison's number at work.

After what seemed like an eternity, Sam finally managed to reach Allison at The Addict.

"Sam? What is it? Mr. Dierkson said it was an emergency." Allison's concerned voice came on the line as the operator relayed her words to the caller.

Sam's hands shook nervously as she typed on the keyboard. "Alli, please don't be mad. I'm really very sorry and-"

"Sam! Where are you? Where's Allen?" Allison demanded. "Tell me."

The brunette sighed. It was now or never. "We're at Memorial, Allen's been hurt--" The operator informed Sam that the line had gone dead.

Sam paced the waiting room, biting her fingernails. A vague recollection from earlier that morning came to her. Allen had wanted breakfast and she'd pushed him away. Pain tore through her heart as she realized that if he died, it would be all her fault. As usual.

The nurse approached her. "Were you able to contact the boy's parents?"

"Yeah. His mother's on her way." Sam scanned the hallway nervously for Allison and right on cue, she burst through the swinging doors.

"Mom!" Sam waved her hand frantically, making the sign for mother. She'd not been able to tell Allison to pretend to be Susan. "Mom!" Sam intercepted her new relative with a giant hug. "Mom! I'm sorry!" She kept Allison tightly wrapped in her arms for a few seconds. Please don't hate me.

The nurse raised a very interested eyebrow and silently observed the stepmother/stepdaughter exchange.

"How is he?" Allison whispered as Sam let go of her.

The older girl read the blonde's lips. "He's hurt. I don't know how bad but he's in the OR now," she stammered.

Allison sprinted to the front desk. "How's my son? Allen Albrecht? How is he?" she cried. Sam hovered behind Allison, hoping for good news.

The nurse sighed. "I don't know ma'am. The examination may take a while. If you'd fill this form…"

Allison snatched the paper from the nurse angrily. "You really expect me to fill this out? I don't even know what happened to my son!"

Sam gripped Allison's shoulders and pulled her to an empty corner. "What happened?" she asked, her eyes teary.

"He fell from the top shelf in the pantry. Hit his head," Sam explained.

Allison sighed. "Was he able to talk to you? He's conscious?"

Sam didn't respond. "Well? Isn't he?" Allison demanded.

"Actually…" Sam hesitated.

"How did he get up there?" Allison asked.

Sam turned her head so she wouldn't have to look into the blonde's trusting face. "I was sleeping. He must have…" The sentence drifted off.

"Oh goodness! How long have you been here?"

"Not long. I… um… woke up around noon." She dared to look at Allison. Her stepsister must be furious. Tears had welled up in Allison's eyes and she was clutching herself.

"I'm sorry." Sam enveloped Allison in her arms and held her close, both unaware of the gossip their unusual relationship was fueling.

"That's her stepmother?" asked an incredulous nurse.

"Sure is." The first nurse nodded at the embracing duo. "Interesting, huh? She calls her mom."

"That blonde doesn't look a day over 15!" the second nurse exclaimed. "Hmph. All those older men marrying those young women. I don't like it one bit."

"You're only bitter because your husband left you for a woman forty years your junior," retorted the other nurse.

They speculated about the Cannizarro/Albrecht family for a few moments until Allison withdrew from Sam's embrace. The dark-haired girl kept an arm around the blonde's waist as she continued to sniffle. "I'm sorry. Making a fool of myself. Going on like this. See, I've squished the insurance paper." She sheepishly showed her older stepsister the wrinkled form. She looked up into Sam's eyes. "Thanks for bringing Allen to the hospital so quickly."

"Hey. Don't be sorry. It's my fault. I'm the one who's sorry," Sam murmured.

Allison sighed. "Accidents happen. No one's to blame, ok?"

"Here." Sam handed Allison some tissues from a table and stared at the blonde's purse uncomfortably as Allison dabbed at her eyes. Allison didn't know just how guilty Sam was.

"It wasn't an accident. No, that's not what I mean. It was an accident, yes, but…"

"What?" Allison asked, perplexed.

"Allen woke me up early this morning but I pushed him away. Went back to sleep. When I woke up, I found him like that… all because I couldn't be bothered," she mumbled, hoping against hope that the blonde wouldn't be able to understand the garbled signs.

"Oh." Allison took a moment to digest the new information and stared at Sam with disappointment and reproach in her usually friendly and lively green eyes. "I see. Allen's only three years old! He's a baby! What's wrong with you?" She broke contact abruptly with her stepsister and walked to the nurses' station. "Could I have another form, please?"

Sam's chest tightened and tears threatened to fall from her eyes as Allison left her angrily. But she couldn't blame the blonde for being angry.

Both nurses nodded simultaneously. "Here you go, Mrs. Cannizarro."

"Thanks." Allison quickly filled out the form, referring to a couple of cards in her purse. She handed the paper back to a nurse. "Any word yet?"

"No, ma'am," the nurse replied as she took the form. "Excuse me. You forgot to sign here…"

Sam watched her stepsister as the younger girl took care of business. She'd just lost Allison's respect. Damn, she should have just kept quiet. But why did she even care what Allison thought of her? The blonde probably didn't want to see her again, at least not for a few days.

Sam pulled the keys to Dino out of her pocket. Before long, Allison would call Barry and Susan and her ass would be fried. Hell, she might as well have pushed Allen herself. All she could do was create trouble and get everyone madder and madder at her.

The despairing young woman kept her eyes on the floor as she dragged her feet across the room, her hands fisted in her pocket, her back slouched. Her father would hate her. Barry adored Allen; he was like a son. And now her father's second son was hurt seriously, maybe permanently, or even dead, because of her.

Allison made a final notation on the form, signing her name as Susan Cannizarro, then handed it back to the nurse. Rubbing her eyes, she headed back for the corner and for Sam, meaning to apologize for her outburst. Finding her stepsister gone, Allison surveyed the room for the fugitive and finally saw her heading for the parking lot.

"Where are you going?" Allison cried as she caught up to the departing girl.

"Leaving," Sam mumbled, not looking at Allison.

"I see. That's just great. Fucking great!" Allison threw up her arms.

"Thought I'd get outta your way," Sam whispered as she continued walking. "Why would you want me here?"

Allison stepped in front of Sam, blocking her path and firmly forcing her reluctant stepsister to pay attention to her. "I'm sorry about what I said before. I'm just very… I'm very worried, Sam. Please…"

She shook her head resolutely, trying again to get past the blonde. "You're right. It is all my fault. I'll see you later." She walked the few steps to Dino and was ready to get in when Allison grabbed her arm severely.

"Samantha!" Allison screamed. "I am NOT mad but if you leave me, I'll be mad as hell! Please stay! I need you." The blonde took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down as her stepsister stood unmoving, biting her lip furiously.

The blonde reached up to stroke her companion's cheek but her stepsister rebuffed the gesture, not meeting Allison's eyes. Without even a backward glance, Dino and his driver screeched out of the hospital lot and down the street. The forlorn blonde stiffened as she stood alone in the sea of parked cars and wailing sirens. She watched the bright red vehicle disappear beyond the horizon as anger filled her. Sam didn't even have the decency to stay and comfort her!

Allison trudged back into the waiting room, the pain of Sam's abandonment just as intense as her worry about her little brother. She tried sitting down on the hard plastic chairs for a few moments, but vivid images of her towhead in a casket kept filling her head. Please, not my baby. Don't let anything happen to him. She said a silent prayer, hugging herself, forbidding any tears to fall. If Allen recovered in the next few minutes, she didn't want the boy to see her upset.

After a few minutes of twisting in her seat, she gave up. She needed to move. Allison stood up and walked around the room, her eyes falling on a bank of phone booths. She could call a friend but the idea didn't appeal to her. All of her pals were superficial, most hand-picked by her social-climbing mother. And if she called someone, word would spread and doubtless the newlyweds would find out immediately upon their return. No need to contact them unless Allen's severely injured.

By the time a doctor came out with news about Allen, his sister's cuticles were raw from her incessant picking. "Susan Albrecht Cannizarro?" called the doctor, a short and balding man with purple bags under his eyes.

"Yes!" Allison rushed to meet the man. "How is my son?"

The doctor grinned. "He's a fighter. Never was hurt badly. He sustained a minor, superficial head wound. It just looked bad because of all the blood. I dare say he was out for a very short time."

"Oh." Allison sighed in relief as euphoria filled her body. "Thank you, doctor!" The blonde beamed and threw her arms around the man. "Thank you, thank you." She let go quickly and asked apprehensively, "Can I see him?"

"Sure, sure. Matter of fact, he can leave in an hour or so. I'll have the nurse fill you in on medicine and treatment, but he can go home today. He's sedated, though." The doctor nodded, accepting Mrs. Cannizarro's profuse thanks.

Allen was lying in bed, a bandage wrapped around his blond top, when Allison visited him.

"Hey, kiddo." She sat on the bed, running her fingers over the rough white bandage, scarcely able to believe her good luck. He was fine.

"Al," he whispered, reaching for her hand, his round green eyes flickering open.

"Hey! You're awake." Allison hugged the boy and kissed him lightly. "How do you feel?"

"Headache," pouted the towhead. "My head hurts."

His sister laughed and squeezed the small hand. "I wonder why. I'm so proud of you. You're such a good boy."

"Hungry, too. I wanted the cookies. Chocolate chip," he explained knowingly. "Can I still get some?"

Allison wiped a tear from her eye. Yep, he was fine. "Of course, baby," she whispered, kissing his robust cheeks. "Of course. I'll fix you all the cookies you want."

"Bake them?" His eyelids fluttered and his voice became garbled and blurry as sleep threatened to overtake him again. "Where's Sammy?"

"A very good question, indeed," Allison whispered as the tot entered dreamland.

Allison carried her little brother into the house. The boy was securely sitting on her hip, sound asleep. It was pitch black outside and there was no sign of Dino anywhere. Where was Sam? Allison prayed that her stepsister hadn't done anything foolish like hurt herself.

The blonde slipped into Allen's room and gently laid him down, undressing him and putting a fresh pair of pajamas on him. His cherubic face was sweet and innocent; his chubby cheeks were red from the cold night air. Allison sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked his forehead, brushing back unruly strands of blonde hair. She'd been so scared for him, and so relieved to find that he was all right. She closed her eyes as she reflected on the day's events.

A few hours later, Allison was still awake, sitting on the couch and listening to the occasional drone of cars driving by, waiting for her dark-haired stepsister to get home. She was angry at Sam, hurt that Sam hadn't stayed to face up to the music, and that she hadn't even stayed to comfort Allison when she needed it most. Finally, she heard the door open and looked up abruptly, seeing the tall dark-haired girl enter.

Sam's face was expressionless as she walked through the house towards the kitchen, refusing Allison's eye contact.

Allison shot off the couch and intercepted Sam. "Where have you been all day? I was worried about you!"

The taller girl just turned around and headed for the garage door.

The blonde jumped in front of the dark-haired girl. " Where do you think you're going? Aren't you even going to ask about Allen?"

"No. Leave me alone." Sam shouldered her way past the smaller girl but Allison was quicker.

Grabbing Sam's arm, she forced eye contact. "Sam! What's the matter? Why are you running away? Why did you leave me earlier?"

Sam cocked her head incredulously. "You're joking! Why want me with you? I'm sure you'd rather a friend of yours be there. It was my fault Allen got hurt."

Allison rubbed her eyes, red and puffy from crying earlier. How could she make Sam understand? "Please. I wanted you there. Mistakes happen, even I have made mistakes. I locked Allen in a car on a hot day when he was a baby! I wouldn't be angry with you. Disappointed, yes, but more disappointed and angry that you left me there to deal with it on my own."

The brunette swallowed; she did care about what happened to Allen but she wasn't the type to wear her heart on a sleeve. Allison had no idea how horrible she felt or where she had been for most of the day. "What do you want me to say? I'm sorry. I'll take the rap when our parents get home." She made a wry grin. "They're ready to kill me, aren't they?"

Allison shook her head. "I didn't call them. No need to. Allen's fine, basically… he's home. Just for your information." The blonde sighed, suddenly exhausted by the harrowing day.

Sam didn't move. "I don't need to be coddled."

Allison gaped. "I am not coddling you! You bitch! Leave me alone!" She screamed then turned on her heels and thumped upstairs.

Sam kept her emotions in check as she watched the blonde stalk out of the living room. Oh boy. She knew she'd screwed up. Sighing, she headed into the pantry. The reminder of her stepbrother's fall remained on the floor, a bloody stain on the day.

She wished she could make Allison understand. Ever since her mother, brother, and grandparents had died, she learned not to display emotion or get close to anyone. The risk wasn't worth any possible tentative rewards. Standing alone in the pantry under the glare of the harsh fluorescent lights, Sam pressed her hands over her face and rubbed her eyes. She was tired of living such a desolate life.

Allison slipped through the partly open doorway and curled up next to her brother in the tyke's little bed. He sighed contentedly, rolling over on his side as his sister put her arm around him. She kissed him gently, he was her life, all she had in the world. Thank goodness he hadn't been hurt badly. She didn't know what she would do if anything happened to the towhead. As Allison held Allen in her arms and felt his regular heartbeat, her thoughts drifted to Sam. Who did Sam have? Paul? Her father? Julia? No one? Allison sighed and rubbed her brother's back as she realized that Sam didn't really have anyone to love who loved her unconditionally in return. Much like her actually. She and Sam were more alike than anyone realized, she mused.

She was about to fall asleep when she heard Sam ascend the steps quietly. Allison saw the dark figure of her stepsister pass by Allen's room and heard the shutting of her own bedroom door.

The blonde sighed wearily and heaved herself out of Allen's bed. She was due at work in a few hours and needed the rest. She kissed the boy good night one last time before going to her own room.

Allison leaned against the locked bedroom door. Her mother decorated the room Susan-style; it was a duplicate of her old room in the apartment, only larger. She shook her head, willing all negative thoughts to leave. She sat at her desk and began to write a note to Sam about tomorrow, what she needed to do to take care of Allen.

He needed a painkiller every eight hours for the next twenty-four hours, plus plenty of rest and no activity for a day. He was just knocked unconscious with a bad gash that looks a lot worse than it actually is.

As she was about to open her desk drawer for another sheet of paper, a dead flower and used condom Mickey had left for her remained unseen because a tentative, quiet knock sounded at the door. An inexplicable shiver of giddiness ran through her body as she briefly entertained the thought that perhaps her stepsister had come to patch things up.

The dark-haired young woman was indeed at the door, looking as miserable as Allison herself felt. She smiled slightly when the blonde opened the door, her face immediately brightening upon seeing Sam.

Sam shook her head slowly and looked into Allison's face, her confidence building when Allison didn't slam the door right away. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to let you know that I understand if you don't want me to watch Allen tomorrow while you work. But I will do better next time. I promise. You… you shouldn't be working tomorrow, anyway."

Allison smiled warmly. "I was just writing a note. Come on." She motioned her stepsister into the room and picked up the note on her desk.

Sam studied it briefly. "What's this? You're letting me baby-sit him again?"

"Of course!" Allison sighed. "Mistakes happen, Sam. No use in holding grudges… I know you'll take good care of Allen."

Her dark-haired stepsister exhaled incredulously. "What's the catch?"

"Catch?" Allison repeated to make sure she'd understood. When Sam nodded her head, Allison continued. "No catch. Just don't leave me again, ok?"

"If Allen had died or was badly hurt, you'd be singing a different tune." Sam looked coldly at Allison, not wanting to betray any emotion nor wanting to allow the blonde a chance to hurt her.

Allison continued to surprise her. "I know it was an accident; you'd never intentionally hurt Allen. I wish you'd stayed. That's all," she argued. "There's no one else I would have wanted with me." The blonde smiled to show her stepsister that no hard feelings were harbored, reached for Sam's hand cautiously, and sighed in relief when the dark haired girl accepted it.

Sam swallowed. How could the blonde be so trusting and forgiving? Instead of feeling better, she felt much worse. Allison wasn't bawling her out or blaming her for everything left and right, and that was a first. Sam wasn't sure how to react and before she knew it, she was going with the truth. "I'm really sorry. I really am, Allison. I just feel so awful. I should have been more careful," she signed morosely.

Before she realized what she was doing, she had drawn her stepsister in her arms for a hug. She held her for a few minutes, enjoying the warm embrace. Allison did believe in her. Nobody else did, not even Aunt Julia, not quite, and the new sensation touched her heart.

Allison hugged her companion back fiercely then relaxed in her strong arms, the worry and the tension of the day gradually ebbing out. Everything would be all right now. She closed her eyes comfortably as Sam caressed her back. No one had ever hugged her like that before. Sam was like a skittish colt and Allison finally understood how to get closer to her, baby step by baby step.

Sam closed her eyes as well and rested her head against Allison's, quietly enjoying the brief opportunity to let her guard down and be comforted under the pretense of comforting the blonde.

As always, e-mails are welcome at sarkel_bard@yahoo.com