Author's Note: On the fan site, I have a link up to a family tree for this story. It's still a work in progress-- need to add several more people, check some of the names, and put in the pictures. However, it's mostly done. Check it out, and click on all the names-- as you'll see, just about everyone in the story is connected, mostly by the Marlow/Foley families.


“Can’t believe her,” Tacita grumbled to herself. “The nerve of my mother!”

Lisa looked over at her mother worriedly, then peered out the car window. The whole ride from Tacita’s family home, Tacita had been moody and irritable. Lisa hoped that her mother would not always be this way.

Finally, the car stopped in a driveway. Lisa stared at the house, confused. It was nothing grand or eye-catching, merely a tidy brick box with flowers in front. “This is it?” she asked.

“Home sweet home,” Tacita responded, opening the car door. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go inside.”

Lisa followed Tacita into the house and stood by the door, staring in disappointment. Certainly, the house was nicely decorated with costly enough items. But the whole place seemed somewhat… unlived in. It lacked the warmth of Ophelia and Cy’s home.


“I don’t spend as much time here as I should,” Tacita explained apologetically. “I spent more time with the band than I did hanging out here. But I guess that’s going to change, huh?” She looked around, then said, “I guess you can crash on the couch for tonight, and tomorrow, we can go buy you some bedroom furniture. I’ll have to clear out the spare room; I’ve been using it as a junk room.”

Lisa simply looked around, without a word.

“Anything I can get for you, sweetie?” Tacita pressed. “The kitchen’s through there, the bathroom is just down the hall. You can watch some TV if you like… or play a video game… or…”

Lisa sighed and sat down on the couch, frowning. “What’s wrong?” Tacita asked, stroking Lisa’s hair.

Lisa quietly looked up at Tacita and responded, “…I miss Miss Lia.”

“I know you do,” Tacita replied, “but I’m here. I’m going to try to take care of you, okay? We’re going to get through this.”


Cy peered quietly into the bedroom. Ophelia sat on the bed, head down, in her pajamas. Cy frowned, then, shut the door.

I hate to see her like this, Cy thought worriedly. There’s got to be something to cheer her up. She needs support from her friends. I can’t help her through this single-handedly.
An idea in mind, she nodded and went over to the living room, where she knew she would not be overheard. She had some calls to make.