Jessalyn Larocque

Her eyes opened slowly, and the first thing she saw was a young woman crouched down at the fireplace cleaning out ashes and putting freshly cut logs in their place. Jessalyn smiled and stretched a little before pushing back the blankets, shaking her messy brown hair from her eyes, tiptoeing forward, then pouncing downwards and wrapping both arms around the other woman in a tight hug. The young woman gave a short, startled scream that quickly turned into a laugh, and then she turned around slightly to return Jessalyn's hug. If one didn't know them, one would think the two women were childhood friends who had been separated for years. In a way, that was true. When Jessalyn had gone off to school when she was 11, it had been 6 years before she and Rachel saw each other again. So naturally, they now clung to every moment they had together with both hands. Then with Rachel always running around doing things and Jessalyn being forced to either sit still at her embroidery or go out to social events, sometimes there were entire days where they never saw each other once. And then, of course, there was the fact that no one could know they were even speaking to each other. Rachel was, after all, a slave.

But that word didn't even matter, here behind closed doors when it was just the two of them. Jessalyn could never look at Rachel with that word hanging over the other woman's head. It was just... wrong. Rachel wasn't a slave to Jessalyn. She wasn't a housegirl or a servant or a maid. She was a friend. Her best friend. And every moment they had to themselves was precious. So they hugged each other tight as if they hadn't seen one another in years, and then when they pulled apart, both women laughed a little. Finally, though, Jessalyn stood up, tucking her hair behind her ears and then taking Rachel's hands. "Help me get ready?" she asked with a smile, giggling at Rachel nodded enthusiastically. They both knew what was so special about today. Not only was Eric here, but his sister Emily was on her way and due to arrive within a few hours. Their two families had been close first in business and that had given way to legitimate relationships developing, especially between the children of each family. Jessalyn had known Eric and Emily her entire life, and Emily had to be the only other person (aside from Jessalyn's brother Timothy) who knew of and supported her friendship with Rachel. Heavens, when Emily had spent last Christmas with them, Jessalyn realized that the younger woman viewed Rachel as as much of a friend as she herself did! With Rachel with her and Emily about to join them, and Eric just down the hallway in her father's study... Jessalyn dared to say this day was looking very bright!

By the time Rachel had finished helping her, putting the last bit of curl into her hair and straightened the lace on her pink silk dress, Jessalyn was practically bouncing up and down in excitement. Rachel gave her one dash of perfume, then hugged her tight, whispered, "If he don't see how beautiful you is, he's a fool," then pulled away and playfully pushed Jessalyn towards her bedroom door. Jessalyn blushed a little, but inside she prayed to God that Rachel was right. That today might be the day that Eric... took special notice of her... But she blinked and refocused herself quickly. They smiled at each other one more time, then Jessalyn left and hurried down the hall. She reached her father's study and didn't bother knocking, just opening the double doors and walking right in with a big smile. Her father sat at his desk with Eric and her brother Mark seated in front of him in two chairs, and they were clearly in the middle of talking business. But Jessalyn didn't care. She smiled at all of them, walking right up to her father and brother, kissing both on the cheek, and bidding them good morning. She grabbed an orange from the bowl on her father's desk and started peeling it as she went to the window, looking out to the road to look for Emily's carriage.

"Emily's supposed to arrive soon, right, Daddy?" she asked, "The last time she wrote she promised she'd be here today before supper. I couldn't stand it if she was late, I miss her so much! I'm sure you do too, don't you Eric? I know how you dote on her. Besides, she promised to bring some pictures of the latest fashions out of Paris, not to mention I'm dying to know what everyone in the north is thinking of the presidential race. You know they say candidate Lincoln is going to win by a landslide?"

Mark watched his sister walk in. His father accepted his daughters kiss but said nothing of her flouncing about his meeting. Mark wasnt so accepting. He stood from his chair next to Eric and walked around the desk to stand next to his father. "Jessalyn," he interrupted her, his voice firm but kind. "our father and I are in the middle of a very important meeting." He waited for her to understand. Surely he wouldnt have to explain to her the importance of their privacy. Then again this was Jessalyn they were talking about. Perhaps spelling it out for her would indeed be the better choice. Mark looked down to his father. The older mans stoic expression gave away nothing as he watched his daughter calmly. Her place at the window, with the morning sun shining over her golden skin and the brown curls of her hair falling just so over her shoulders, had suddenly become the object of the rooms attention. Marks eyes narrowed. His sister could be so childish sometimes. Simply impossible. And their father, strict as he was, was too lenient for his good. 

On the other side of the desk, Eric sat comfortably in the chair he'd been given. His elbows rested on either arm of the chair and his hands met in the middle, one hand folded over one fist. He'd been keeping eye contact with Mr. Larocque, as was always important during matters of business, but once their discussions had been put on hold for his daughters sake, Eric's eye had fallen to the hand carved edge of the desk before him. It wasn't that Jessalyn was unpleasant to look at. Quite the contrary. If Eric were to look up at her for more than a glance he wouldn't be able to pull his eyes away. And though someday their secret would have to be exposed, for now their meetings, though few and far between, were ever so much more exciting when only they knew. Keeping their desires and affections for one another secret made the whole thing so unspeakably intoxicating. Eric had a poker face better than any man he'd ever met, but even he had a tell. His one and only weakness, that beautiful woman sitting just across the room. He took extra cautious to keep his eyes away from hers. If he were to meet her eyes he wasn't sure he'd be able to contain his obvious human needs. How long had it been since last he'd laid eyes on her? Touched her? Kissed her? Months. Long, agonizing months his own father had kept him away in New York. He had handled it then, but now, when she was so close, just thinking about it made the seconds pass like years. Just her scent was driving him insane! 

Yet on the outside, none would ever be the wiser. Mark certainly wasn't as his fists clenched around the arm of his father's chair. "Jessalyn, really, you need to leave now. This meeting is of the utmost urgency and we can not continue with you sitting here."

Dear Charlotte

"Charlotte was a strong woman..." a pause to look out over the people who'd gathers to honor the woman who'd passed. "She had a strong sense of values. She had a strong love for her family. And she had a strong love for God. In the last ten years that I knew her she did more for the churches and the women in this community then most have been able to do in a lifetime. She was a stubborn woman who would not accept anything to be done half-way. It had to be done right or done over. This was so in her home," a look to the woman's children, who smiled and nodded at the fond memories the words brought back. "and in her ministries." Another look over at those who'd worked with in the woman's groups, then to those who'd been helped by her women's groups. All nodded agreement, holding tissues and handkerchiefs up to their eyes and noses.

"I have never seen a woman so passionate about life. She made every day her last day on earth, never leaving anything unfinished or unresolved. I can't remember a single argument she ever had with anyone she didn't make amends for that very same day." a glance over at the woman's husband. He sat staring at the coffin at the head of the room, his loss evident by the grief-stricken expression across his face. "That was just how she was. There was no special effort. She simply lived day to day, the way everyone ought to. She lived with her eyes on heaven, and everything she did reflected that. Her life was a picture of heaven itself. There was no mistake Jesus shown through in her ever action. And she was so happy for that. You could just see her face light up when someone told her that. But Charlotte was always a humble sort. When it came to her accomplishments never once did I hear her take the credit. It was always for the hard work of others, by the grace of God. What a testimony. What a blessing it was to know her, to have met her."

Ducky paused here, not for the sake of the people he was speaking to, but for his own sake. His eyes were watery, his voice thick with emotion. This wasn't just a eulogy for a person he'd never met before. This was the life of a woman he'd considered one of his dearest friends. His sister in just about every sense of the word. To know that he would never be able to see her again the way he used to, call her up for a Bible study or church bake sale, taste one of her sweet homemade pies...oh, he was going to miss her terribly. "The day that Charlotte left us the world lost an amazing woman. A woman who loved, who laughed, who lived. But all of us gathered here today, we are not here to mourn her passing, but rather to celebrate her having lived with us for the time that she had. I speak for myself, and for all of you, when I say that we will miss her fiercely. But we can rest in the hope that some of us will see her again someday. I know Charlotte is happy now. More so than you or I could begin to imagine. And someday we'll go up to meet her and we can share in that everlasting joy! But for now, let's live. Live the way she would have wanted, the way she showed us by her great example. Let's pray." The room as a whole bowed their heads in respect as the pastor's low voice spoke no longer to them, but to someone much more important.

"Heavenly Father, we come to you today in a very sorry state. Our hearts are breaking for the loss of our dear friend, mother, wife, sister, daughter, grandmother Charlotte. We thank You for her life. That You gave each and every once of us the true privileged to have met this wonderful woman. We thank You that You welcomed her into Your family ten years ago and that You hold her in Your arms now. We ask, Lord, that you would give to us Your peace and Your joy that Charlotte showed to us every day. Comfort our souls as we wait for the day that we will see her again with You. Thank you for this beautiful service in memory of this beautiful woman. May all our days be as filled with You as hers were. In Jesus name we pray, Amen." The congregation whispered in unison their amen's, raising their heads and waiting for the rest of the service to continue. Ducky stepped down from the podium and sat next to his wife, who took his hand and squeezed it for the emotional support she was in need of. Another man took Ducky's place on stage and explained to the group that they would now be allowed to say their last goodbyes before the casket was taken to the burial sight. It was requested that the family be allowed to go first so that they could ready their cars for the procession to the grave sight. Ducky watched as one by one people began to stand. Charlie, then her children and grandchildren. Ducky's own daughter urged him and Linda to come as they walked on.

"You're as much family to Charlotte as we are, dad. Come on," she leaned over to tell him, pulling him and her sisters out of their seats to walk with them. Ducky did as he was told, following the rest of the family past the open casket. He didn't look in though. The people who'd prepared her for this day had done a good job of making her look pretty, but she didn't looks like Charlotte. Her body had already been vacated. She wasn't there. Ducky knew she no longer looked like the woman he and Linda considered one of their own family as well. She no longer looked like Charlotte, he didn't want to see that. Instead he focused on getting up, getting past, and getting out. As they walked along the aisles on their way to the back door and towards the parking lot, Ducky couldn't help but overhear the silent whispers of the different people who'd come. Talking about Charlotte or what they were going to do after leaving or where they'd go for lunch now. He smiled. It was good to know people weren't going to lock themselves inside their homes and cry. They were going to go out and celebrate, honor her the way she would have wanted to be honored. It was a good thing. But one voice, he couldn't help but notice, stood how over the rest...mainly because it was much louder than the whispers and the sniffles of the others.

"Now can we go to Chik-fil-e???" the loud little voice echoed through the building, even though it was obvious he was trying his hardest to be quiet.

"Shhhh!" came the hurried response from the man next to him.

"But Christian! They've got those bug capturing boxes in the kids meals and I want one before they're all gone!" People were turning to look at the two boys as the older desperately tried to silence the younger. Many of the parents who knew the pair were smiling and snickering at the all but humorous child. It was all Ducky could do not to join in. As he passed their pew he leaned over and whispered, "You both are invited to my house after the casket is buried. Miss Linda's making pie." He beamed as he heard from behind him the little voice gasp. "Forget the bugs, Chris! We get pie!!!"

To continue reading this chapter, click here!

State of Grace

80 million people in the US were born between 1980 and 2000, a generation defined by sociologists as Generation Y - more commonly called Millennials.  According to experts, Millennials feel entitled, are more narcissistic than their parents, and delay previously established "rites of passage" such as moving out and getting married.  They are less interested in voting and preserving the environment, and more skilled in the practical use of technology than they are in effectively communicating in writing or speaking.

Of these 80 million, 15% identify as Christians.

In Greenville, South Carolina, one of the most internationally renowned Christian schools teaches thousands of students every day.  Among majors like Theatre Arts and Chemistry, Millennials receive a top education coupled with a Christian environment, where there are nightly prayer meetings and physical contact between boys and girls is punishable with community service.  Centered around Bob Jones University, Millennials clash with each other and the world around them, pressured by their parents and grandparents to be one way while the world beckons them to be another.  Can a Christian named Christian preach the gospel while raising his baby brother?  Can a little boy with two loving fathers understand the battle going on around him? Can two teenagers really have everything they want and still make everyone happy?  And is it really so bad to have a little sin in your life?

Only 15% of Millennials identify as Christians.  The question, is why.

United Division

In the warm September air of 1861, life on the Moon Lake Plantation couldn't be better for Jessalyn and her two brothers. Their parents are healthy, their cotton fields are full, and their dear friends are visiting from New York for their last vacation of the summer. All is well in the world and no one could be happier. No one, that is, but the slaves. And Eric Banning, the wealthy son of a factory owner in New York, couldn't agree more. When the Bannings start to stir up trouble around the plantation, Jessalyn's simply life is thrown into turmoil and she has to make the most difficult choice of her life. To stand by her family and their way of thinking or join the handsome rebel in New York and find true love.

Meanwhile, Eric's sister is living in paradise. Being the upper class means the highest quality in fashion, food, and friends. But when her flirting gets her carried away, she finds herself suddenly married to a man she may never be able to love. And when Eric leaves their family business to pursue his political standings, she's left with only an old flame and some new friends to keep her spirits alive.

In the background through all of this is Rachel, a quiet slave girl who's never known anything but hard work and cruel slave drivers. She faces loss after loss as friends and family die from poor conditions or are sold to other properties. But one thing keeps her strong. The kindness of the youngest Laroque son, Timothy. They've always been friends, ever since childhood, and though their stations are different, he never inherited his father's cruelty like his older brother Mark. When Mark discovers Timothy's true feelings for Rachel, he tries to teach him a hard lesson, and Timothy and Rachel are forced to flee West from their family, friends, and everything they knew and loved. 

Facing a hard journey west, a civil war, an impossible marriage, and the loss of loved ones, these three women are in for more than they ever dreamed of facing. But one thing holds true. Love is stronger than any war.

Exposure

If there was some way any of this could be avoided, Derick would have gladly taken that road to the one he was facing now. He'd started, so there was no going back. That didn't make the task at hand any easier.

"Kelly, just shut up for ten seconds and let me tell you!" he snapped at her incessant questioning. Kelly instantly shut down. She knew when he got like this there was nothing she could do but obey. Not doing what he said would cause a fight, and that would cause insults to start flying, and eventually it would end in her crying and begging for forgiveness. But this time, a fight had the potential to end in something much worse. She could accidentally blurt out her big news and mess the whole thing up. He'd be angry with her for not telling him sooner, or for telling him in such a hostile way, or for having the news to give at all! Not that it was only her fault... Babies took two to make, after all...

The silence was relief to Derick. He had a second to actually think. He needed to just say it. There was no better way than to rip off the band-aid, and right now they were doing more light tugging than quick pulling. So with a deep breath, he tensed his shoulder to brace for the impact of her reaction and said simply "I joined the army."

Kelly's body went cold.

"The..." she took a deep breath and forced herself to repeat it. "The army." The words in her throat made her want to gag. Or maybe that was morning sickness. She couldn't tell. All she could tell for sure was that he'd just told her he was leaving for many long periods of time, and he decided to tell her this on the very day she found out she'd be needing him more than ever. Without thinking further than that, she cut off what he'd been about to say to expose her own secret. "I'm pregnant."

Manual Labor

News... She had news... Big news...

"I don't always cry." she insisted, sitting up in the center of the bed. He gave her a look she was sure meant 'Of course you do.' But she wasn't about to argue with a look. "Alright, I promise. I won't cry."

Derick ran a hand through his dark blonde hair. He sighed. Stood and walked across the room. Not good signs. He rested his hands on the top of the dresser and stared at her assortment of generic brand lotions and body sprays. "You know I've been applying for different jobs."

Kelly nodded. She knew he'd wanted a new job ever since she'd met him. She'd even helped him look and apply for places in the hopes of maybe getting at least a second job. They could use the income. Especially now...

"Well. I heard back from one." Derick knew she'd be excited about that. He hoped that would help soften the blow. Putting it in the light of a new job, better pay.  It worked in movies and tv shows.  ... At least, he thought it did.  Most of the time...  In fact the more Derick thought about it the more he could feel that cold tightening knot in his stomach.  It sent a dreading chill up his spine and made it feel like his hair was turning white.  As Kelly leaned forward on the bed with a surprised and hopeful, "Oh my gosh! Really? Which one? What's it for?" Derick felt the feeling spread into his throat and block all words.

When he turned to face her all he could say to her was a brief, "It's like a manual labor type job."

Kelly blinked at that and tilted her head like a kitten might, "Manual labor... Like... Building houses?"  She thought that might be good for him.  He liked using his hands, and tasks like that always came easily to him. Plus she rather liked the idea of him coming home all tanned and sweaty and dusty and...

But Derick shook his head, "Nope.  More like... like... Like lots of running and exercise stuff."

He saw her eyes blink and narrow a little. She was getting suspicious. God, Derick just didn't want to deal with a breakdown right now. If she would just stop asking questions...! But Kelly couldn't stop. She couldn't figure out what he was talking about. None of the jobs they'd applied for involved physical fitness. At least, not the ones she knew of. So what was it...?

Breaking

Kelly finally moved away from him, back to her own pillow.  For good measure, Derick pulled his an inch or two to the right.  Just to make sure she didn't try to slide over again.  As he knew she would, she let out a sad, deep sigh in response.  And in response to that, he gritted his teeth against a groan of frustration.  She always took things like that to mean he didn't want to be close to her anymore or that he was pulling away from the relationship.  That wasn't what he was doing at all!  Derick was not a subtle man, if he wanted to pull away from the relationship there'd be no mistaking it.  All he wanted was his own pillow.  His own sleeping space, free of someone else's arms and long hair strangling him in his sleep.  Was that too much to ask of her?  He went to stupid romantic comedy movies and paid for her half of the gas and used money he didn't have to make sure she always got a new charm for her charm bracelet every single Christmas.  He did all of that... and she still wanted his pillow?!  God, sometimes it was all he could do not to kick her out of bed!  Out of the room!  Out of the house!

In the two seconds it took for him to clench and relax his teeth, those thoughts shot through his head, and as had been happening with increasing frequency lately he saw bright red flash in front of his eyes.  But as quickly as it came it passed.  He let out a deep breath and shook his head a little, reminding himself that thinking those things wasn't going to do any good.  Saying them would do even less.  It would just lead to a pointless fight that got nothing done, and eventually one of them would crawl over with their tail between their legs and beg for forgiveness.  Derick hated when it was him - he rarely thought he'd ever actually been in the wrong.  But he hated it when it was Kelly too.

He just hated this whole entire mess.  And he didn't know how many more times he could think that to himself before he cracked.

Derick sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, even though he'd lain down not three minutes ago.  He ran a hand through his hair, then took a breath and let it out and said, "How much of a bonus did you get?"

She sat up as well and hugged her knees, answering quietly, "Not much, actually... But we can eat real meat this month!"  It was an attempt at a good-natured joke.  They both knew it was, but neither of them laughed.  Derick stood and pulled a change of clothes from the single banged up dresser they had, then answered vaguely.

"So... I have some news too...  I mean, it isn't major or anything.  So no crying.  Please..."

Danni Santiago

Danni was excited to finally get back to Florida. She'd been backpacking through New England for so long she thought she'd have frozen over by now. She needed the warm sun, the sand and surf, the palm trees! Who'd have ever guessed she'd miss those gut-ugly palm trees... Well, Kelly had. Oh, her dear sweet Kelly! She missed her so much. She was like Danni's twin sister, and it had been two years since she'd even seen a picture of her. They talked a couple times, when she could find a phone, and she sent post cards when she'd had a little cash for stamps. But that wasn't enough. Not when you were talking about your best friend in the whole world.

They hadn't always been as close. Danni and Kelly had gone to daycare and several years of elementary together in Orlando, Florida before Kelly and her grandmother had moved to Jacksonville. Danni didn't know everything about her situation, but she knew that Kelly had been going through tough times. So when Danni had moved to Jacksonville in her second year of high school, she was glad to find Kelly as bright and friendly as ever. She was a familiar face, and someone Danni grew very close to through their years of school together. She could even say that at one point, she'd been in love with her. But that was a long time ago. A different period and stage in her life. Things were different now. Danni was different. But they were still the closest of friends and she couldn't wait to see her!

As she sat at the back of the Greyhound, slowly making her way down through the Carolinas, she couldn't help but pull out her sketch pad. Danni had always loved art. It was one thing that drew her to the big cities like New York. The street art. The tagging and the performers. The city was filled with beautiful, living breathing art. She'd loved it! Every second of her days there had been filled with new discovery, color and vibrancy and passion. But in the days outside of the city, through the hard times where she had no food and no place to sleep, she'd learned to find that in the every day ordinary. She'd practiced and worked and studied to create her own art out of nothing more than what she could find around her. And that was what finally convinced her to go home to her beautiful sunshine state. She couldn't wait to make it home!

Who Likes Who

The official synopsis for Who Likes Who. In case you missed it. =)

Eleven different people living eleven different lives and dealing with different struggles, find themselves face to face with one common goal. To save the old FairView Hotel from demolition. But when the economy takes a turn for the worst, many are forced from their jobs, homes, and families, and have no one to turn to but each other. Through struggles in their own lives, and through the continued restoration of the old building, eleven very different people become eleven very close friends. One by one, they learn the importance of forgiveness, the meaning of being a family. Join these eleven as they try to recover the spark that had once been in their relationships. And find out how an ordinary building can sometimes be a little magic.

Sunday News!

Kiki and I talked about this for a long time before deciding to do it. We've both wanted to do something like this for a while but now we've finally decided it's time. First, let me start by saying that Kiki and I are Christians. We believe the Bible from the first page to the last as a complete truth, and we try our best, with God's help, to live in a way that reflects the Bible and it's author, the one true God. Now we do understand that this will turn many of you off and that the subject matter of the following Sunday posts may offend some of you. We mean to do none of that.

In our Christian lives we have seen a great need for good spiritual fiction. The books published for "Christian readers" are shallow and lacking in anything worth while for well rounded readers. I personally have walked through Christian book stores many times with the intention of buying a romance novel or a historical fiction, and so many times I've had to leave empty handed. The books are out there, but they are so filled with worldly ways of thinking and dramatic dribble that the books become a chore to read through, however decent the plot may have been.

For our fellow Christian brothers and sisters, we wish to write to you a work of fiction that will express the true and genuine lives of Christians. The struggles and hardships, the triumphs and blessings. Everything from falling in love to facing death itself. But most of all, we wish to convey the deep and passionate and living relationship that true Christians share with God. The love He shows for us, and the love we have for Him. And we sincerely hope that if you are not of the same religion, that you will continue reading anyway. It's going to be a great run!

For those who do not agree with us or share our beliefs, we do not mean to offend or attack you by the things we write. Our writing is an honest expression of the way we believe, and each character has his own thoughts on how those beliefs should be followed. Their feelings do not always express exactly what is in our own hearts but will always try to be Biblical and honest. All we ask is that you would show us the same tolerance that is asked of us, and that our work would be shown the respect deserving of any writer.

Our new story, State Of Grace, will premier next Sunday, and be updated every Sunday following for the foreseeable future. And for those of you choosing not to follow, don't worry. Regular posting will continue during the week.

We thank you for your patience with us and for your continued support through this new venture.

Secrets

Kelly sat for almost ten minutes alone in her room. She knew she looked better now because she could see that her eyes weren't as swollen and her nose wasn't red. She didn't look like she'd been crying, but instead looked tired. And she was, but that wasn't going to help her get to sleep tonight. Too many fears and worried swirled through her head to let her rest while awake. They wouldn't shut off just because it was time for her to sleep. If only she could somehow evolve an on and off switch for her brain...

The door opened without warning. Kelly felt a moment of panic. Oh no. Did he know? Could he tell?? Was she ready? She wasn't ready. What was she going to say to him?! Somehow, despite her brain's inability to form a complete thought, she heard herself say a soft and simple "Hi, Honey. How was work?" Slowly, following the automatic greeting, she stood from the bed and went to hug the man she'd loved for so many years. His strong chest was warm and welcoming, as it always had been, and he put his arms around her in a comforting embrace. He somehow had the uncanny ability to shut her brain off, like a switch, and let her relax for a moment in his arms. 

Derick kissed her forehead the way he always did. She could tell he was on auto-pilot too by his response. "Fine," he said as he released her from the brief embrace and moved past her into the room. She knew work wasn't "fine" because work was never "fine." Something was wrong. Kelly followed him into the room. "And how was your mom today?" Derick moved through the room in a matter someone might push through a room filled with jello, in a slow labored fashion. He dropped his keys and wallet on the desk and carried himself to the bed. In a heap he collapsed on it, answering her second question with another "Fine." She wished she's stop asking things. Couldn't she tell he was tired?

Kelly walked to her side of the bed while Derick kicked his shoes off. She crawled up next to him and rested her head next to his on his pillow. Derick hated when she did that. He loved Kelly, but there was such a thing as personal space, damn it. He sat up.

"I got a bonus today," she told him, sitting up as well, hoping talking about extra money might help cheer him up. It certainly did her. Derick hardly reacted at all.

"Oh really," he mused emptily. "Why's that?" Kelly could tell the question was one to be polite. He didn't really care all that much. There were bigger things on his mind.

She answer with an equally empty, "Overtime," then rested back into her own pillow. She'd already changed into her sweatpants and tank-top. Any minute Derick would change into sweatpants, maybe a t-shirt if he planned on going downstairs, but usually he didn't. They might watch a movie or eat a small supper, but it was late and they were both tired. Neither really wanted to do anything but sleep and avoid the subject on their minds. The secrets they both needed to share. 

Derick Logan

Walmart hadn't been his chosen career field in middle school.  That was when his school system had started administering those career placement test things.  You got a half-day off of school to take the test and a week later found out whether you were destined to be a fashion designer, a microbiologist, or a postman.  Because those were the only three options anyone ever got.  Derick?  He'd gotten postman.  In seventh grade he had laughed at it and thrown the test results into the trash.  Because of course he was going to go pro football or baseball or something involving balls and scores.  And he'd get a huge house in Malibu and marry the Olsen twins and have five kids who all helped cure cancer.  It was the same plan every seventh-grade boy had.  Just... they'd all figured out their real plans before they graduated from high school.  And Derick hadn't.  Which was all the explanation needed for someone to understand why he was 23 and still working at the same Walmart job he got when he was 15.

Derick could make all kinds of excuses.  The one other people used for him all the time was, "Your mom has been sick.  Of course you can't go to college or travel or do anything other young men your age are doing.  Don't feel bad, it just means you're more mature!"  Good.  God.  If he heard that one more time he was going to burn this mother down.  Derick didn't wanna hear about how mature he was.  He wanted to hear a hot blonde calling his name from his truck so they could run off to Miami for an impromptu weekend.  He wanted to hear people chanting "Chug!" as he downed as much alcohol as he could in one minute.  He was so sick of having to take care of his mom all the time like this.  He was sick of doctors telling him she didn't have long, sick of needing to stick her with needles three times a day, sick of... Of all of it!  There were no excuses for this kind of life!  He had been an idiot, a flat-out idiot.  If he had gotten his grades up and gone to college, or at least taken classes at the community college, maybe he just... Maybe he just wouldn't be in this screwed up cesspit that was his life.

And this was why he hated the drive home from shifts.  The longer the shift, the more pissed off he was, the more poisonous his thoughts got on the way home.  And Kelly always cried and he knew she was close to her period so that meant she would probably cry if her socks didn't match.  He drew in a deep breath as he turned into the driveway off the little side road their house was on.  He knew he had to get a grip of himself before he went inside.  As he braked and shifted the gear from drive to park, he imagined he was loading up a weapon of war.  It might seem violent but to him it was such a mechanized, processed thing that it forced all his thoughts to come into line and settle down.  Like soldiers in a regiment.  And that reminded him.  Tonight, he had to tell her.  There was no hiding it anymore.  Hopefully... signing up would be something Kelly could understand...

Miss Kelly Thompson

Bright blue eyes started at their reflection in the bathroom mirror. She'd always had a fascination with teary eyes. A terrible habit her mother had never been able to break her out of. She liked to watch herself cry. Not that she particularly enjoyed crying or whatever event caused the tears, but somehow she always found herself staring into her own reflection when it did happen. She had the type of eyes that sparkled when they cried. There wasn't much she liked about herself, but she did like her eyes. They were her best feature, and she determined that because of them she was not an ugly crier.

That didn't mean she wanted people seeing her cry. No, that was something she kept very private. This particular evening was no different. She'd just arrived home from work, a dead end job at a little diner off sixth street and brown. Right next to the Books-a-Million and across the street from a record store. As if anyone actually knew what records were anymore... The dying music culture was not why she was crying, although it did sometimes bring up the desire to be sick. She was crying because of the little white stick in her hand. The one she'd used that morning to decide her fate. How messed up was that? Letting her fate be decided by some pink lines on a stick. After a long day of dealing with rude, inconsiderate costumers, having her life defined by this one... or three... stupid sticks. This was not how she'd seen her day play out. 

Kelly was twenty-two, struggling to finish college one class at a time while she payed her part in rent and gas and groceries. She'd used her last bit of cash to buy these stupid sticks. Dumb little tests with a fifty percent chance of passing or failing and she'd failed. All. Three. Times. Derick was going to kill her. She just knew it. He was trying to take care of his mom on top of his share of all life's expenses, and his Walmart job wasn't any better than hers. At least she got tips. How were they going to afford this? Would he even want this? Did she?

A noisy sputtering car engine pulled up, then stopped. She'd know that engine anywhere. Derick's truck hadn't been to a shop in six years, and he wasn't as good a mechanic as he thought he was. She swallowed, tossed the tests away, then wiped her eyes quickly and tried to reapply a bit of make up. She still looked a complete mess, but at least it was more of a "bad day at work" mess than a "guess what test I took today" mess. Maybe he wouldn't notice. That would at least give her enough time to figure out how she felt about all this and how she was going to tell him... Slowly leaving the bathroom, she walked back down the hall to the bedroom she shared with her boyfriend of four years. Kelly closed the door and sat on the corner of their bed. She had a few minutes until he'd come up, and she took those moments alone to let the news sink in. To really understand what she'd just been told by two pink lines on a stick.

"I'm pregnant..."

Hello World!

My name is Ash. I have a cat who's obsessed with watching rain, a walk-in closet turned library, and a twin sister. She's not the kind of twin you'd think of when you hear the word. Born of the same parents at the same time in the same place. We were born of different parents, at different times, in different parts of the world. But we found each other nearly five years ago, and I am convince beyond a shadow of a doubt that we were meant to be twins. She is my closest friend, my family, and my inspiration. When we met, I was a struggling high school graduate with no plans for the future, no friends outside my family, and an ego rivaling that of Captain Kirk. I was a geek with nothing to do but write for my mother and gloat about how impressed she was. Kiki was a writer on a website I joined. I was proud to say I was better than anyone I'd ever written with, disregarding the fact that I was writing with people who'd failed high school English twice. We began a story together and I quickly realized I was way out of my league. I had two choices. Give up and admit I'd been wrong, or get better. I'm proud to say, my beautiful and talented sister drove me to get better. She has pushed me and fought with me to better myself and has helped shape the writer I've become. There's still a long way to go, but she still pushes me to be my best, and it's kept me where I am.

In the past four months, Kiki and I have been working on ideas for how to share our collaborations with you. Our readers are the most important thing to us, next to our writing. Without you, there'd be no us. Just two girls in a room with a computer and too many ideas. We've had several thoughts but this seemed the most profitable. So, welcome to our story telling station! Where we'll be putting up our stories little by little every day to share with you our love and passion for what we do. I hope with all my heart you'll love these stories and characters as much as I do. And I hope that somehow we will be able to inspire you other writers out there to get better. To write your hearts out. And to have the courage  to share what you love with the world, even if the world doesn't always love it back.

Ditto.

Well I guess I should say something equally as insightful and clever and heartfelt... Well...  Hey there.  I'm Kay, or Kiki as Ash calls me.  I'm 21 years old (the baby here) and my life has been everything but exciting and interesting.  Upper-middle class family, white picket fence, dog and cat, two older siblings, blah de blah, blah de blah... And that was when I met Ash.  A friend from high school was babysitting one day and she invited me over and showed me this new "gaming" site she found.  She liked it for the games you could play, but what I noticed was the writing section of the site.  I joined up and, through a few mutual acquaintances, met Ash.  At the time, I was just about the epitome of a stuck-up, selfish, bratty young adult.  It took a lot of troubles and fights and losses for me to realize I was absolutely nothing special.  I wasn't the cute exception to the rule I'd been all through school and in my family.  There were no excuses for me out in the real world (and contrary to popular belief, college did nothing to shake me of that mentality).  What it did take... was the best friend I could ever ask for a really big, life-changing event.

This isn't really the place to go into the details of what happened, but basically it involved a movie, an online chat room, and lots of crying.  Ever since then, Ash has been the only person I can go to for everything.  Literally.  There has yet to be a subject that I can't freely talk about with her - and trust me, I've run experiments.  And one of the best parts of our entire relationship is how hard we push each other in our writing.  We both thought we were all that when we met, and we've both gone through times when we've seriously considered never writing again.  She's been a friend, a sister, and the greatest inspiration (butt kicker) I've had yet in my life.

So in summary.  We don't really care if you guys like our stuff.  Or if you read it at all.  This is something we wanted to do, and we're going to do it.  No matter how long it takes to do posts or think of new things to write about.  So come along for the ride if you want =)  It'll probably be pretty awesome.