Simone threw over the covers, dropped her feet on the side of the bed and ignored the clenching ache to her pelvis. The bathroom door was partially open with the light pouring out into the room. "You hungry, baby? I'll cook you something to eat before you leave." She picked up her robe, which was thrown on the chaise, and slipped it on. Hot tea and two ibuprofen were the only things to get her through the morning. The phone rang. Yawning, she walked over and picked it up.

"h.e.l.lo?" she said.

"Morning."

"Keith?" Simone sat. She looked to the bathroom she thought he was in. "Where are you?"

"I didn't want to wake you. I'm at the office."

"Huh? It's six in the morning. What time did you leave?"

"It's my first official day."

"Yesterday was your first day."

"You know the drill, Simone. This isn't New York. I wasn't sent here to just..." Keith paused.

"Just what? Finish?"

"Never mind that. I got pressures you don't know about."

Simone fell back over on the bed and stretched. The tension in her lower pelvis lessened. "You could have woke me. I would have made you breakfast." She turned over, drew her knees up and tried to ignore the dull aches that now spread from her pelvis down through her thighs.

"I will next time. So what will you be doing today?"

"Oh, I don't know. I don't feel good," she groaned. "Didn't tell you last night, but my period started after we made love."

"Cramps?" he asked.

"Yea. Are you disappointed?"

"About what?"

There was a rustle of movement. It sounded like soft closing of a ledger and then typing on a keyboard. She imagined him behind a dark wood office desk in a large black swivel with his gla.s.ses riding the edge of his nose as he pecked away at the keyboard, barely listening. Her imagination didn't stop there. A secretary with bigger t.i.ts and a shapelier body than hers would saunter in. Stacy's twin possibly. She'd decided to come in early to be of 'extra' help. She imagined things she shouldn't since she said she forgave him. Closing her eyes, she forced the doubts from her head. He just wanted to catch up on his work, make a good impression. Besides, he called her this morning. That was thoughtful. He deserved points for that much.

"What should I be disappointed about, Simone?"

"My period, Keith. We aren't pregnant."

He sighed and answered with silence. His silence always made her feel small.

"We've been trying... we still aren't pregnant." Simone reminded him.

"And if you want to, we can keep trying," Keith answered.

"If I want to? What does that mean? We both want a baby. Right?"

"I don't have time for this right now. If you feel better today, you can come to the office and bring me lunch."

"Oh, joy." She rolled her eyes.

"If not, I'll see you when I get home for dinner. At the very least, get out of the house today. Take a tour of Castle Rock. Get to know our new town. Call you later."

"Keith?"

She overlooked the note of exasperation in his tone. "Yes."

"I'll bring you lunch. I want to see your office. I'm proud of you sweetheart."

"Thank you, baby," he said. She could hear a smile in his voice. She smiled too.

"Bye, Keith. See you at twelve."

The line clicked off. With eyes shut, she tossed the phone. She was pushing and he was avoiding. That's what Dr. Tanner once said. So it was her fault that her husband cheated. She pushed too hard. It was his fault for cheating because he evaded instead of dealing, which was bulls.h.i.t. Keith always pushed her, and she always evaded the issues they'd had as partners. She didn't get therapy at all.

Simone groaned. She rolled over to her side then drew up the sheet. She forced the questions to silence in her head. What was the point? She made the choice to be his wife and support him again. She pledged to forgive and forget, because part of her still felt lucky that a man like Keith Livingston married her. If this was it, if this was all there was, she had to do the best she could to fit in and deal with life.

"What?"

The carafe of juice slammed down on the table with the fresh squeezed lapping at the top, threatening to spill. Maryanne looked as if her eyes would pop from their sockets. Her face ran scarlet. Her lips pressed together so tight they were pale, almost white.

"What?" she mocked him. "You know what. This is terrible."

Cain took another sip of his orange juice. He woke to find her in her negligee preparing breakfast, a ruse to get into his good graces again. He liked it better when she didn't bother. He foiled her seduction by sharing some morning news.

"Not really. It is what it is."

"You said he was Senior V.P.? That's not possible."

"It's totally possible. Keith Livingston is your neighbor and my new boss, the new Senior V.P.," Cain answered.

"That's not right. Daddy said you would be Senior V.P. It was supposed to be your promotion! Daddy said..." She struggled over her outrage and a full-blown tantrum. In short order, decorum won out. With the calm of a debutant, she smiled at him. "You must be mistaken, dear. Whatever this so called appointment is, it has nothing to do with you. You are the one set to run that division. I believe Daddy wants you on the board one day."

"Wrong." Cain picked up his paper and snapped it open, turning the page. The paper was delivered early. He appreciated that. Nowadays people didn't read newspapers. They turned to the internet. But in Castle Rock, the local paper was a tradition every man of means held on to. A morning read, breakfast with the wife, and then off to work.

Maryanne sat back in her chair. She crossed her arms. "Well?"

"Well what?" he asked as he peeked over the edge of the newspaper.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I thought you said I was mistaken."

"Cut the bulls.h.i.t, Cain. What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. Should I get him a tie or invite him to the club? We definitely need to welcome him to the neighborhood. Maybe you can take over one of your pies," he winked. He knew she probably did just that.

"Don't be an a.s.s."

"And don't be a b.i.t.c.h. It's unbecoming, dear."

"I'm serious, Cain. Are you going to sit there and pretend you don't care?"

"Not pretending, love."

"I'm calling Daddy!" She pushed from the table and walked off. He didn't bother to wait for the next episode in 'princess' meltdown. He felt like celebrating. He didn't want the Senior V.P. job. h.e.l.l, he didn't want his V.P. job. Why the f.u.c.k did he ever think he could fill her daddy's shoes? Cain chuckled to himself. Easy answer. He loved her. And even now, with all their issues, part of him loved her still. And worst yet, she used that love against him.

There was no point to dwelling on it further. This was his life. He had no choice but to live it.

Chapter Four.

Bad Habits Kim "Pancakes!" Kim sang.

She flipped the cake over. There was a squeal, followed by the soft patter of little feet pedaling over carpet. In the Jensen house, 'pancakes' was the magic word. The twins were sure to gobble up their favorite breakfast within minutes.

Kim chuckled. She stood barefoot in the kitchen. A pink robe that frayed at the hem from over washing stopped at her ankles. Underneath, she wore panties and a green and white Jets t-shirt that belonged to Dennis.

It was just her and her sweet babies. Dennis renovated her home in the area of southern Brooklyn known as Sheepshead Bay. From the hardwood floors to the walk-in closets, sunken garden tubs, and extended wrap around decks that faced the bay, it was their dream. Dennis worked round the clock to save for the down payment and purchased it right after she found out she was pregnant. For that reason and others, she could never abandon this place-although the mortgage was certain to bury her.

Kim slid the spatula under the flattened cake in the skillet, then carefully flipped the golden-brown discs on to twin Elmo plates. Breakfast today for her would be a mix of her favorite morning flavors: maple, cooked breakfast meat, and the roast of fresh brewed coffee. Kim's eyes lifted to her window when the wind caused a thin branch to hit the pane. The sun hadn't risen, but she could see the jungle gym that Dennis had started to a.s.semble covered in fallen leaves and dying gra.s.s. Simone asked to replace it, or at the very least finish it, but for two years Kim avoided dealing with it. She was getting good at avoidance.

As only a mother could, she slid the b.u.t.ter knife through the small stacks to create little chewable squares. "Sounds like my babies are hungry," she sang. Faster than a speeding bullet, Denny rounded the corner, dodged the kitchen island, and went crashing into her legs.

At barely two-feet tall, he wore a baby blue sleeper with covered feet. Bam Bam was her sister's nickname for him because of his love of banging things. He threw his chubby arms around her knees and squeezed with all his might.

Kim laughed. She reached down. Her fingers buried in his thick fro. Anne had taken out the twins' braids in order to wash them.

"You hungry?" Kim bent over to kiss him, but he turned his head and released her. "Denny, where's Mommy's kiss?"

Her son moved on. He had no interest in being babied. Her boys were changing. Every day they grew more and more independent. At the very least, she got a kiss whenever she wanted one. But Denny was the more self-reliant of the two. He recently cut her off cold. Kisses only came with a bribe of an apple slice or a scoop of yogurt or pudding. Was it because she was home less and less lately? G.o.d, she hoped not. She was only surviving off the kisses of her babies.

"Where's Danny?"

The cabinet door slammed. Kim rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Danny, don't start, baby." She looked back. From the stove she couldn't see him. The kitchen island blocked the other side of the kitchen from view. Danny slammed the cabinet door again, and she stepped around, trying to get a fix on where he was. There he was at the cabinet near the sink. He yanked the door open once more and then proceeded to pull out pots and pans. Kim picked him up and he protested, bucking in her arms. She put him in his high chair and then Denny.

The changes never stopped. Take for instance their speech. Denny and Danny had an eleven or twelve word vocabulary. So far she could make out okay, no, yes, stop, mommy, please, thank you, Elmo, eat-eat, cake and juice. Then there were the strange words that just the two of them could understand. She'd watch them sometimes communicating with each other, wishing to be a part of that little shared world.

Every now and then they'd use the one word she wished they didn't, daddy. They had taken up the habit of calling Simone's husband daddy and he wasn't very receptive to it. It made her feel her loss even more.

"Here it is!" She lowered the plates to each high chair. The phone rang before she could turn and locate the syrup. Cursing under her breath, she managed to answer and cover the cakes with sticky sweetness.

"h.e.l.lo?" Kim said with the phone pressed to her ear. She fixed them both cups of milk with lids for sipping, and her own breakfast plate.

"You said you were going to call me back. You didn't."

"Sorry, Simone. It was tough yesterday. Plus, this morning Danny was extra cranky. I think he resents me for working all these d.a.m.n hours."

"He's two, Kim."

"It's not that. He's more needy than Denny. He doesn't let me console him when Anne is here. And Denny...well Denny thinks of me as a food and drink machine. He's so active, banging and demolishing everything in his reach. To top it all off, Danny had Dennis' picture yesterday and-," she sighed. "I'm just tired."

"Then take some time off. I'll pay for you and the boys to come up here. I miss my babies. I can take care of you. You didn't look well the last time I saw you. The nose bleeds?"

Kim blushed, "That was allergies and it cleared up. Besides, I'm just venting. We're okay," Kim sniffed, rubbing her nose. With her pride welling up in her chest again, she inhaled a deep breath. She forced herself to calm down. "Now, what's up with you? How's Castle Rock? I hear it's beautiful."

"It sucks," Simone mumbled.

Kim smiled. "I wish I had your life. Let me tell you. How's Keith? Did you two work out the 'Stacy' incident?"

"No, he didn't mention it and neither did I. I don't feel like dredging that s.k.a.n.k back up. She's no threat to me. Forget her. I called cause-I need some advice."

"Go ahead."

"I got my period."

Kim smiled sadly. She forked some food in her mouth, chewing and speaking. "I'm sorry."

"I must be doing something wrong. I'm sleeping with the man every day. EVERY DAY! I should be pregnant by now. How long does it take for birth control pills to wear off? It's been four months."

"It's different for everybody. Frankly, Simone, you need to be a little patient. It takes time."

"I guess. It's just that Keith wants a baby."

Kim frowned. She remembered how Keith was with her sons. In a word, he was uncomfortable. He didn't have a paternal bone in his body. But her kid sister always saw Keith differently than most. The man breaks her heart, and she wants to reward him with a kid. It made no sense to Kim.

"Relax, just let it go naturally. Give it a little more time, okay? Stressing doesn't fix a thing. Trust me. I know. You need to let things develop."

"I miss you. How are my cuties? Do they miss me? Show them my picture everyday and practice saying Tee-Tee."

Kim laughed. She sipped her coffee before answering. "Yes, they miss their Auntie and they already call you that. Anne took some pictures of them at the park. I will upload them at work and send them to you.

"Kim?"

"Yes," she said.

"Are you okay? I mean if you need money, Kim, I can help. Seriously, I got plenty from the shop, so...so just say so. You got two people keeping the twins with the shifts you're working. Ms. Martha during the day and Anne at night."

"I'm fine. Actually better than fine. Got a meeting with the attorneys on Monday. The city might settle. So keep your fingers crossed."

She heard Simone sigh. She knew what that sigh meant. Kim braced for it. Her sister thought curing her financial issues would help. Maybe it would, but only temporarily. Eventually she'd have to support her family on her income alone. That's why she tried so hard to manage it fully.