Book 4-Feels Right?

Silence overcomes the room. Finally, a statement rolls into my mind, one that had been at the back of my mind since yesterday morning. "My grandmother always told me, `You know you love someone when you can spend the entire night just sitting by the fire, watching them sleep'," I say aloud, then shake my head. "I don't know why that popped up so suddenly." An uneasiness enters me, making me realize that I could possibly have grown feelings for him.

Mark gets up, looks at his watch, and asks, "Did Luke get to the bus on time?" I nod slowly, and he walks over to me. "Your eye's better; the puffiness is gone, and the color is almost normal." I nod again, looking down at the carpet, afraid to look into his eyes. "Go get some sleep, okay?" I nod a third time, and Mark leaves the room.

I get up a few minutes later, and trudge up the stairs to my bedroom, where I plop down on my bed. "What have I turned into?" I ask quietly as I snuggle into my pillow and close my eyes.

My dreams are flooded with my nightmarish life, which makes it nearly impossible to get any good sleep. My whole childhood had quite a lasting effect on my adult life, and so often are my dreams invaded by Greg's uncontrollable rage or my last boyfriend's sudden anger and impatience.

I awaken in a sticky sweat from one of those nightmares, my breathing ragged, and my heart pounding in my throat. I look over at the bedside table, and see that it's almost noon. I get up, hop into the shower, and think hard. "What's the worst possible scenario?" I ask myself. "I could get used and abused all over again, get kicked out, and find myself without a job or money." I look at the tiles on the walls as I let the hot streams ease my back. "On the other hand, I could actually find a lasting relationship that, no matter what happens, we'll always be friends." That false hope that I had kicked out the door so long ago just re-entered. "Who am I fooling?" I sigh. "I'll never be a normal woman."

Disgusted with myself, I step out of the shower, and begin to dress. I put on tight jeans and a black, wanna-be halter-top that looks knitted or crocheted, which exposes my bra somewhat, and stops at mid-torso. I look at myself in the mirror. "I look like a whore," I say to myself, then shrug my shoulders. "Like it's any worse."

I go downstairs to grab a quick bite to eat, just throwing together a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich. I finish off the sandwich, and head out to the front porch to see where everyone is; I need to ask Mark a question. I walk around the side of the house, and see Mark inside the garage, tinkering on something. Having never been in the garage, I inch closer until I'm beside the open garage door. "Hey, Mark," I call out.

I shake my head. "Nothing for you to be troubled with," I say to him, and look past him into the inner part of the garage. There, I see an old, broken-down motorcycle sitting in the middle of the mess. "What's that?"

I go inside, and walk over to the bike. "I don't know how, but my father, when he had one, took me on a few rides. What is it?" I next ask, kneeling to look at some of the parts he'd strewn about the vehicle.

I can only look in awe at the work he had done so far, though I don't know when he started and what it looked like when he got it. "Wow," I remark again. After a few moments, I stand back up, and run my hand down the seat. It feels like well-softened leather.

An arm circles around my waist, pulling me to its body, making my body tense up, but when a pair of warm lips touch my neck ever so gently, it takes me everything I have not to scream out. "Mark, please don't," I whisper, beginning to lose my calm. "You have a date tonight." I peal his arm off my body, and turn to push him away. Before I could get my arms up, his lips come over mine, his moustache and beard tickling my skin. I am about to scream when I realize something strange; his lips are soft and gentle, just content on being on my lips and not wishing to go further. Something I have never experienced before.

"No, it's all right," he interrupts, his breathing just as ragged. "I'm entirely at fault. I moved too fast on you. I should know better." He runs his hand through his hair.

"I've got to pick up my mother," I state, more to myself than to him, and walk out of the garage. I remember what I had wanted to ask when I came outside. I turn back to the garage. "Hey Mark, could I borrow the Lincoln to pick up my mom?"

I nod, and reply, "Thanks, Mark. Be right back." I walk over to the Lincoln, and get in on the driver's side. After finding the right key, I stick it in the ignition, and start the car, backing out of the driveway slowly.

As I head to the airport, all I can think about is that kiss. It was so different from the few other kisses I had gotten before, so soft and not demanding. Maybe there was hope for me yet. "My God, girl, you're losing it!" I say to myself. "You're losing control. See what happens when you make friends with guys?"

I pull into the airport parking lot, and race to the gate where my mother's supposed to come in. Not even a minute after I reach Gate 15, the plane lands. I stand by the terminal, waiting for her to come through. I don't wait long as she is one of the first people off. "Mama!" I call out to her.

She smiles when she sees me, and we walk together. "Ally, my dear girl, I'm so glad to see you," she says as she pulls me into a hug. "Let me get a look at you." She holds me out at arm's length. "I see that black-eye is healing nicely. Not much discoloration."

"Mama, I told you already that it wasn't that bad," I say to her. "Now, c'mon, we've got to go get your stuff." I take her hand, and lead her to the baggage claim. "Did you have a good flight?"

Mama grabs her suitcase, and I take it from her. "They think he's a mutt," she laughs out. We go claim Slayer, who's confined in a huge crate. A clerk rolls him out to the car, and with help, gets the huge thing in the backseat. Once we're all settled, I start the engine, and head for home.

"Alisha Tala O'Malley!" my mother scolds. "Stop fooling around with an old woman. Tell me the truth. Something is bothering you. You can't hide it from your own mother."

I sigh again, and respond, "All right, Mama. You know I've never even looked at a man since what's-his-name when I was seventeen." She nods. "Well, my barriers have disintegrated without my knowing."

"About May or so," I tell her, "when we first met. It just shocked me. Then it grew from there. I moved into his house, had gained the trust of his son, and it began to break at the hardness around my emotions. I began to become friends with all the guys in the company. It was just so weird."

"Remember how Grams used to say `You know you love someone when you can spend the entire night just sitting by the fire, watching them sleep'?" Mama nods. "Mark watched me sleep throughout Monday, and last night, I stayed up to watch him sleep."

"Mark and I were in the garage," I relate to her. "I was admiring an old motorcycle he had just gotten and was fixing up. Suddenly, his arm was around my waist, and his lips on my neck. I turn to push him away, but his lips come to mine."

"So you're all worried over a little kiss?" she asks. I nod slowly as I turn down the street. "Child, I'm sure it was a `heat of the moment' thing. Look at what you're wearing, Ally! Don't you think that would stimulate a man into doing something like that?"

"I'm stunned, Ally," she states. "Stunned. You're attracted to a man, and you wanted to kiss him back when he kissed you. Truly amazing! After all this time, I thought you'd be a spinster."

I pull into the driveway, and put the car into park. "Just do me a favor, and don't mention this to anyone, okay?" I ask her as I unbuckle. She nods, and we get out of the car. Mark is still in the garage. I put my hands around my mouth. "Hey Mark! Come here for a minute."

I set the suitcase on the concrete. "Guess what else she brought?" I say to him as I open the backdoor. He comes around to see Slayer in the crate. We laugh as Slayer begins to growl at being caged-in. Together, Mark and I get the crate out, and I open the door, releasing the wolf. He runs into the garage as quick as he can, then turns around to come back to us. "Looks like he's glad to be out of that thing."

At quarter after seven, just as I finish putting away the cleaned dinner dishes, the phone rings. I pick it up, and say, "Hello, Callaway, Jacobs, and O'Malley residence. Can I help you?"

I put the phone on the counter, and exit the kitchen only to bump into Mark. "Sorry about that," we both say. I shake my head. "There's a woman on the phone. She wants to talk to you."

Mark goes into the kitchen, and picks the phone up as I sit on the stairs. "Hello?" he says into it. A minute or so passes. "That's too bad." Another few moments go by. "Yeah, I understand. Maybe some other time then. `Bye." He hangs up the phone.

"My date canceled," he tells me. I scoot over to allow him to sit beside me. He sits down with a heavy sigh. "I tell you, it's the hardest to go anywhere without being hassled. The dates are just as bad." He puts his head in his cupped hands. "I'm getting too old for this."

Mark looks over to me, and answers, "Well, a bunch of us guys were going out to eat then to a dance club before everyone had to go home. I had the luck to acquire a date, which the aforementioned party has canceled at the last minute."

I go inside the room, and say, "Mama, I need a favor from you." She looks up, and the question of `What?' dances in her eyes. "I was wondering if you could watch Luke for me. The guys invited me out with them tonight, and I said I'd go."

"Thanks, Mama," I say to her before I turn down the hall to go to my bedroom. I look in my closet for something nice. "What do I have that's actually `nice'?" I pick out the closest thing to `nice' that I have: a dark blue dress that has no straps, and reaches my ankles. I put the dress on, and go into the bathroom to see how it looks. "Hmm, not bad, Ally. Not bad at all. Much better than the see-through top you were wearing earlier." I apply a light layer of make-up to spruce my face up, and am astounded at the difference. "I haven't worn make-up like this in a long time."

I go back out into the bedroom, pick out black dress sandals with a medium heel, and put those on. I finally grab a black shrug, put my arms into it, and head out of the room. The sound of conversing voices stops me short, and I scrunch into the corner of the rail and wall, unseen by those in the living room. I see Mark sitting on the couch, Glenn in the armchair, and my mother standing between them, talking. I manage to catch my mother tell Mark, "Just be glad she likes you enough to save you from a curse. After I saw what you did to her, I was out for vengeance, but she talked me out of it. You really should be grateful." She leans toward Mark. "Do it again, and it will be Hell on Earth for you." I have to quietly laugh at her protectiveness. She ventures toward the hallway, where the library sits; she loves to read.

Mark laughs, and replies, "I'm not worried because I know I won't hurt her again. I made that mistake once." He looks at Glenn. "If I do, that's two threats that will come to pass."

Both men laugh. Once they calm down, Glenn, with a serious tone, says, "I saw what happened in the garage." Mark looks up at him again. "I was looking through the dining room window, and saw it happen."

Mark looks into the fireplace. "I don't know what happened," he tells his friend. "I mean, she was wearing these tight jeans that hugged in all the right places and a top that stops just under her ribs with the holes. She just looked incredibly sexy." A heavy sigh comes from him. "My hormones got away from me."

Mark smiles again. "I'm not really sure, Glenn," he answers "I think it was everything about her. The way she turned me down the first time, the way she carries herself with pride and respect, the fact that no matter how strong she is, she's still just a human being who's carrying around too much emotional baggage." He looks up at Glenn. "I like her fiery personality, the way her hair falls into her face when it's loose, and her aqua eyes. I've never seen anyone with that color as their natural eye color. You wanna know something new?" Glenn nods. "I like the way she challenges me, always pushing away when we get closer to each other, emotionally."

"That's something new for you, someone who's as stubborn as you are. I think, Mark, that you really want that spitfire." Glenn comments. Mark nods slowly, and Glenn smiles at his friend. "I want her, too, you know."

Mark looks up at Glenn, and says, "I know that, Glenn, but I can't help it. Do you know how long it took me to actually accept the fact that I do want her as my own? Let me tell you, man, it was a while, and I felt guilty because I knew you had the hots for her, yet it was such a relief to my conscience." He puts his face into his hands slowly. "What are we gonna do?"

I decide to make my entrance, and descend the stairs. As I come down the steps, I hear Glenn tell Mark to look. When I reach the bottom, I turn to the living room to see two awestruck, handsome men standing beside each other. "Ally, is that really you?" Glenn asks.

I nod, and walk toward them. I stop when Mark begins to walk toward me. He circles around me, a small smile on his lips. "My, my, my," he says. "You look magnificent." I begin to feel a blush come about my face at the compliments, but more of my own observations of him. He had recently let his hair return to its normal auburn color, and with the hair in a tail down between his shoulder, it makes his appearance much more intense. He is dressed in a black shirt, black blazer, and black dress pants; semi-tuxedo, my mother and I used to call it.

"Yeah, she cleans up real good when she wants to," Glenn adds. He isn't a total slouch when it comes to dressing up, either. Glenn has his brown curls down, which almost totally envelop his broad shoulders, and wears a golden-brown sweater and dress pants.

They both shake their heads, and Mark says, "Nope, I truly think that you are the only `dazzling beauty' we've ever met. Right, Glenn?" Glenn nods as he walks over to us. "Are we ready then?" Both Glenn and I nod.

Before I know it, the limo is pulling up to the front of the restaurant. Mark gets out first, Glenn and I following after. "Wow," I state, looking at the huge, beautiful building. "You weren't kidding when you said `Only the best'."

"The best is yet to come, Little One," Mark says, holding open one of the double doors for me. We get in quickly, and are taken to the private area sectioned off for us. I see that we are the last to arrive. "Look who came to join us." Mark points down toward my head.

I just laugh it off as the waiter pulls out a seat for me. I sit down, and push myself in. "Joke all you want, you all," I tell them, "but it is me. I'm as much in shock as you." We order dinner quickly, and return to our conversations.

The food is delicious! I can't believe that me, Alisha O'Malley, is dining in such a fancy place. Yet, I'm reminded over and over, the night is just beginning. Once we finish dinner, which is around ten or so, we head out to our limos to meet back up the dance club on the other side of town. When we arrive and exit the limo, Mark and Glenn escort me inside the club. "I have to warn you guys," I tell the group when we all reach the table, "I haven't danced in such a long time." I remove my shrug, and place it over the back of a chair.

"No sweat," Bri says, then slaps Jeff Hardy in the chest with the back of his hand. "Me and Jeff here will reteach you. Come on." He takes one hand, Jeff takes the other, and they drag me onto the dance floor. Before too long, I'm dancing pretty well with the boys to the fast beats.

A slow song comes on. Glenn bows in front of me, and asks, "Could I have this dance?" I nod with a smile, and circle my arms as best I can around his neck. He places his arms around my waist, and I begin to tense up. "It's okay, Ally. I'm not gonna kill you or anything." I begin to relax, but not entirely. We sway gently with the music. "You look real good, you know."

He puts his face close to mine, his hair falling around my vision like a forest of brown locks. "I must tell you that there is a slight problem with Mark and myself," he whispers. "It seems that we both have feelings for this beautiful young lady whom seems to constantly avoid any deep relationships."

"I guess that's the way it has to be," Glenn says. The music stops, and I pull away from him. He returns to his chair, and I join a few of the others for the dance song.

I swear, within the next three hours, I've danced with all the guys. All, except Mark. He seems to be avoiding the situation all together. He's not much of a fast dancer, either, as I've watched him the entire time sit in that chair. I do notice that when Mark actually dresses up pretty decently, which he has for tonight, he looks pretty damn good himself. I continuously stare at some points during the night, and I'm sure it makes him somewhat uneasy; that is, if he even notices.

I decide to sit out on the next set of fast-paced songs to give my feet a rest. While sitting, I sneak glances of Glenn and Mark as they seem to be doing the same to me. "She's looking at us," I hear Glenn whisper to Mark. Eavesdropping has become an art form for me.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore," Glenn says softly. Mark's eyebrow lifts at the statement, and he looks at his friend with concern. "I can tell that her eyes have been glued on you the entire night, and has been, in some way, shape, or form, since the time you two met. I give in; I know I could never earn those kinda of looks from her." Mark's about to protest, but Glenn holds up his hand. "I know you're going to tell me not to put myself down, but it's the damn truth, and I've finally accepted it. Besides," He nods toward a lady in the crowd, "I promised her the next dance."

"Are you positive about this, Glenn?" Mark asks him. "I don't want to go around, backstabbing my best friend." Glenn nods, and I turn back around to watch the people on the floor.

After a few more moments, the DJ gets on a mic, and says, "Guys, grab a girl, and head for the floor for a nice slow song that everyone loves." Not many move. "Come on, I'm not starting this song until everyone gets on that dance floor with a partner or two."

Mark walks over, and says, "Bri, I think it's my turn." Bri nods, and goes to his seat. Mark leads me out onto the floor. As he faces me, he places his arms around my waist, making my body tense up yet again, and I haven't a clue what to do with my arms. "Don't worry, I don't bite unless you want me to."

I place my arms around his neck, relaxing completely for the first time tonight, and reply, "That's the part I'm worried about." He smiles, and the DJ finally begins the song, Evan and Jaron's "Crazy For This Girl".

All through the song, I can only look deeply into his eyes as we sway together to the song, and wonder at the lyrics and how they coincide with our little lives. `Am I really falling for him?' I ask myself. I mentally shake myself clear of the question. `Don't ask for explanations, Ally. Just take it as it comes.' Near the second to last chorus, I lean my head against him, and close my eyes. Right now, nothing can possibly be better than this.

"Me too, Ally," he whispers back, and leads me back to the tables. I grab my shrug as Mark tells Glenn that we're leaving. The three of us say our good-byes to them before we head out to the limo.

The ride home seems to make my nerves go on the fritz just at the closeness of Mark's body to mine, and I nearly scream out because of it. `This is so new to me,' I think as the limo rides through the city. `What am I gonna do now?' I glance at Glenn, then Mark, and finally set my eyes forward. `It seems so right, yet wrong at the same time.' I sigh quietly. `Does every woman go through this?'

"Let me down, Mark," I tell him. He starts up the stairs, and I close my eyes in frustration of everything this night has brought me. "You're such an ass, you know that?"

He smiles back, and heads for his room. I enter mine, and throw my sandals into the closet. I can't get his smiling face out of my head. "Girl, you've fallen so hard," I tell myself, sitting on the bed in the dark. "How could you not see this coming a long time ago?" I sigh, realizing that Mark and I need to have a little heart-to-heart.

I sit on the bed beside him, and take a deep breath. "Mark, I think we need to…" I begin, then trail off as I look up into his face, and see what I should have been seeing all along: the sexiest eyes that bury into the soul, and bring out the innermost secrets of a person's life. He leans toward me, his lips coming to mine in the soft manner as they had earlier. Before I can stop myself, I begin to kiss him back, placing my hands lightly on his arms.

Somehow, I end up lying down under his body, with his hands beginning to roam. His lips leave mine, and continue down to my neck, and finally, my chest. At the lightest feeling of pressure on my chest, I suddenly sit up, whispering, "No, I can't." Tears begin to spill down my cheeks, burning as they do.

I shake my head to his questions, and answer, "No, it's not that, Mark." I stand, and begin to head to the door. Mark follows me, and folds me into his arms before I reach for the doorknob. I push away from him. "Please don't do this to me." I open the door, dazed and confused beyond what I can sort out. Mark walks out, and I close the door again. I lean against it, wishing that I hadn't done this to him. Looking around for a minute, it finally hits me that this isn't my room.

"Nothing," I tell him as I help him back into his bed. "I just let my emotions get ahead of me for once, that's all." He gives me a quizzical look, then decides to ignore his gut feeling that I'm lying to him. "Get some sleep, Luke. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day. Your grandparents are coming, aren't they?" He nods, closing his eyes. "You don't want to be tired when they're here." I can see he's already drifting back into sleep. I smile at him, and head out the door.

I cross the hallway to my room, seeing that both Mark and Glenn had gone back into their rooms. I go into my room, and draw a hot bath. As I sit in the tub, my only thoughts are `How could this be? What do I do from here?' Soon, my heart is telling me to go and talk through it with Mark, but my mind is telling me to just forget it, move out, and move on.

After washing, I dry off, change into my pajamas, and brush the tangles out of my hair. I go into the bedroom, and stare at my bed, wanting to just plop down and fall asleep, but I can't. "This has to get resolved before I can rest easy," I tell myself, and head for the door.

The hallway is now dark and nearly foreboding. I creep down as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake anyone. Once I reach Mark's door, I take a very deep, cleansing breath, gather my courage again, and softly knock. After a few moments, Mark answers, "Come in."

I step into the room to see him sitting up against the headboard, staring into space. He had changed into shorts. When his eyes come to mine, he focuses again. "Hey," he says.

"Oh," he interrupts, and places his arm around my shoulders as he sighs. I welcome the weight for the first time without trepidation. "I've got to be honest: I thought you were a stuck-up bitch when I first asked you out. The more I got to know you, though, I became more interested in getting to know you on an even more intimate level. I really like the way you've been with Luke. I don't think most women would be a friend to a seven-year-old like you have been to him. I know he loves you like a child would love his mother. I've been thinking about our relationship a lot as of late, and I would like to pursue into this new stage, but it's up to you. Do you want to become involved with me?"

I look down at my hands for the longest time before I reply, "I've had problems in the past. My father was killed by a drunk driver on his way home to take us out to eat the Saturday before Christmas; we used to always go out to the fanciest place in town on that Saturday every year. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've ever gone out to eat at a fancy place since."

I nod. "And I had a lot of fun tonight, Mark," I tell him. "The most fun I've had since I was seventeen." A tear trickles slowly down the side of my face. "My mother remarried about a year later to a guy who was more than what he appeared to be. He was an alcoholic, and after seeing what that did to him, and what he did to my mother and me, I decided to never drink, but I broke that one a few days ago." I shake my head in disappointment. "Anyway, he began to sexually abuse me when I was ten. It was terrible, especially when I had to tell my mother three times before I was sixteen that I was pregnant. She scheduled abortions for me, and I swear, the pain was worse each time. The third time, she made me tell her that it was my stepfather who'd done it all three times. She quickly divorced him, and we moved on.

"I thought I'd never date until I met the star athlete of the school when I was a senior. It was a good relationship at first, but he began to change after I refused him sex. Used and abused seems like the only words that come to mind when I think of it." I wipe the stinging tears from my face. "I haven't been able to look at men until I met you." I look up into his eyes. "You're the first I've let get to me like this in many years. You ought to be proud of yourself."

"Actually, I'm not," he replies quietly. "I didn't think your past was that horrible. I just knew that I had these feelings for you that won't go away, and I didn't mean to do anything like that and trample all over your emotions. I don't know-"

I place a finger on his lips to silence him. "Mark," I tell him softly, "if you can live with having a relationship without sex, I want to pursue into this new stage, as you put it."

I snuggle down closer to his body, putting my head down on his chest, and somewhat slowly, place my arm around his bare torso. "Good, good," I respond, closing my eyes. "You're an incredible man to be able to put up with me like you have."

I think to a few months before. "Mark, remember when you asked about the scar on my thigh, and I wouldn't answer you?" I ask him, and he nods. "That was from my stepfather. During one of his drunken rages, he'd acquired a kitchen knife and chased me with it until he caught me, then slashed at my body. That scar was the deepest cut I had received that night."

Mark sighs heavily, and states, "He was a pretty horrible man, wasn't he?" I nod, a feeling of fatigue coming into my body. "You know, not all men are like that." I nod again. I listen to him talk for a few minutes before sleep finally conquers me.

Opening my eyes, the first thing I notice is that I'm not in my bed. At first, I begin to panic, but then remember back to the night before. I sit up, and look around, wondering, `So what time is it?'

The bedroom door opens, and in steps Mark, holding a steaming cup, and still in his shorts. "Morning, Little One," he says sweetly as he walks over. He bends to kiss my forehead. For possibly only the second time in my life, I don't shrink back from it.

I look up at him, and smile again, replying, "Thanks, but it's a tradition in my family to cook a huge Thanksgiving dinner that takes like two hours to prepare and five hours to bake and cook it all."

I laugh lightly, stand up on tiptoes, and kiss his lips softly, without so much as an ounce of hesitation. `Big step, Ally,' I think to myself. "Thanks for the coffee boost," I say to him. I run from the room, dash into mine, and quickly change into a small, white, sleeveless T-shirt and dark blue jeans with a thick, black belt. I brush my hair and teeth, and taking a final glance into the mirror, declare myself ready to face this new part of my life.

I hop down the stairs, and enter the kitchen. As Mark had told me, Mama has already begun getting things ready to cook; as I enter, she is peeling potatoes at the counter island. "Would you like help?" I ask, startling her.

I sit beside her, and pick up a peeled potato, cutting it into smaller pieces with a knife. "Do you know how much I miss this, Mama?" I state, starting on another potato.

"If I know my daughter, she doesn't fall asleep in any man's arms," Mama replies. "She never lets that happen. I came down this morning, saw you weren't up, and thought that you had gotten back late. Mark comes down and informs me that you were still asleep in his room. She lifts her eyebrow at me. "Care to explain?"

"Mama, you over-analyze," I say to her. I sigh when I see she won't let this drop, and put the knife down. "Mark and I have reached a point in our relationship where we thought it'd be in our best interest to go on to the next level. I guess you could call us an `item' now."

Once all are cut, we place them in a pot of water, and turn the stove on. I can tell she is tired more than I think I've ever seen her. "Mama, why don't you go rest? I can do this by myself." I tell her.

She concedes, and heads into the living room. I open the oven, baste the turkey, and close the over door again. Luke comes into the kitchen with Slayer. "Hey, Ally, watch what I taught Slayer to do," he says excitedly. I turn, and watch as he instructs Slayer to balance on his back feet while balancing a small, rubber ball on his snout, which the wolf pulls off with almost complete perfection.

I clap as they take their bows (yes, Slayer too). "Wow," I remark, "I could never get him to do that. Of course, I was just content in having a friend to run around wild with." I turn back to preparing parts of the Thanksgiving Day meal.

I nod, and reply, "Oh yeah, completely. What else could I do?" I hand him an apple slice, which he accepts and eats slowly. "I was stuck with a stepfather who drank all the time. I needed places to escape to, and they could never be found indoors. I'd usually run to someplace that was like the woods: peaceful and calming. Slayer was always with me, no matter what."

"You know what?" I reply, kneeling to look him in his eyes. "Whenever you feel you need to run away, you can talk to me about it, okay?" He nods. "If I'm not around, hide out in the backyard and think, or call me on my cell phone and we'll talk."

"I remember when I was seven, and had no one to turn to," I respond. I pull back, and he grabs another apple slice, running out into the living room before I could say another word. I shake my head in amusement, and return to my cooking.

A few minutes later, after having just put the finishing touches on the apple concoction dessert I had made, Mark walks into the kitchen, placing his arm around in front of me. "Hey you," he says into my ear.

"Mr. Callaway, this could be considered foreplay," I warn, for once enjoying the feel of his hands and lips without having a war with my emotions, "and if I'm not mistaken, that's close to breaking our little pact."

"Maybe it is, Miss O'Malley," Mark replies, continuing on to my bare shoulder, "and maybe it isn't." He turns me to face him, and kisses my lips softly. I melt into his arms when he folds me into an embrace. "I still can't believe we've grown this close."

"Considering the way I treated you, I can't believe it either," I respond. I pull away from him, and smile up at him. "You're distracting me from my preparations, Mr. Callaway. You'll have to leave the area."

"Not without one more kiss," he says, and leans down for a deep kiss, nearly taking my breath with him as we pull apart. He walks backwards out of the kitchen, watching me all the way out. I can only laugh, and get back to business.

A few hours later, nearly everything is either cooking or has been cooked. Mama and I are making her stuffing, all made from scratch; Mama has a knack for that sort of thing. The doorbell rings, and by the familiar sound of racing footsteps, I can tell without turning around that Luke has run to answer the door. His shouts of glee confirm it.

After a few more minutes pass by before I turn to see Mark leading an older couple into the kitchen. With their graying auburn hair and piercing green eyes, it's easy to tell that they are indeed Mark's parents. "My, she's a pretty one, Mark," the woman says to her son, who obviously towers above them both.

"Hi, Mrs. Callaway, Mr. Callaway," I say to them, holding out my hand to the woman, then realize it's full of breadcrumbs. I wipe my hand on the back of my thigh. "Sorry `bout that." I hold my hand back out.

She shakes it, then pulls me into a tight embrace. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Ally," she says. She holds me at arm's length. "Mark's told me so much about you, but his words could never give real justice. And when he called me this morning and told me, I was just ecstatic that he was dating again." I don't know why, but I begin to laugh lightly.

Mr. Callaway shakes my hand next, and says, "Yep, Mark's got this great sense for picking out women. I can tell he's gonna have to make sure that those other men don't get too close." He pokes an elbow into Mark as he says this, and both chuckle at the little joke.

Mrs. Callaway smiles at my mother, and pulls her into a hug, too. "It's just so good to have new faces in the family," she says with a smile. She pulls back from Mama. "My name's Regina, but I go by Gina."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Mama replies sincerely. "It's more of an honor to see the people who were able to raise such a fine man. Lord knows, I don't think I could do any better."

Gina and Mama laugh as Mark and Tom head out to the living room, Mark leaving with a grin on his face. `He's up to something,' I think as I return to the stuffing mix as our mothers converse.

Not long afterward, Mark walks in with video camera in his hand. "Three of the greatest women I've ever known, all in one kitchen," Mark says to obviously the machine. "Hard to believe."

I smile evilly at him, and he slowly backs out of the kitchen. I turn back to the mothers. "I still can't figure out what it is that connects a man with a video camera," I say to them. They shrug, and we three begin to start finishing the stuffing.

Half an hour later, the three of us have set the table, and set the food out. Once all is complete, we finally sit, and begin to fill our plates. "Do you know what we missed, Ally?" Mark asks as he passes along some food toward me.

"The food fight on Smackdown," he tells me. I nod, remembering the undisturbed table of food that had been ringside all night. "It's a somewhat new tradition in the company." I nod again, and we go on eating.

Dinner is delicious, of course, and we all have quite a few laughs, most of them at Mark's or Glenn's expense. The majority of the huge feast is devoured within the hour and a half we're sitting at the dining table. Once everyone proclaims they're stuffed, we take the dishes to the kitchen, and place them on the spacious counter island. I watch as the others head into the living room, chattering away joyfully. I contently sigh as I see their smiles, and turn to start the long clean-up process.

A few minutes after I begin cleaning the dishes, Mama walks in, and stands beside me. "Why don't you leave these be for now, and come out into the living room?" she asks, placing her hands on my shoulders.

She gives me an odd look, but leaves me to the exhausting chore. Quicker than I thought it'd take, I clean every dish, dry it, and put it back in its spot in the kitchen. After double-checking the dining room and kitchen, I head out into the living room to sit with everyone else.

"You wouldn't happen to be talking about a certain stunt I pulled a while back concerning a roof and a dumpster now, would you Mama?" I ask as I walk up to the sofa, where she is sitting.

The entire group walks them to the door. "It was so nice to meet you," Mrs. Callaway says as she pulls me into a hug. "Mark is a lucky guy." I can only smile at her compliment.

After the good-byes and Mark's parents leave, we head back into the living room. "Well, wasn't that just a blast," Glenn states, patting his stomach after he sits back down in an armchair. "It was one great dinner. One of the best I've had in a while."

"I'll second that," Mark replies as he sits down in the opposite chair. He pulls me down to sit in his lap. "Of course, it helps to have a great cook in the house." He kisses my temple lightly.

Saturday comes too quickly, and before I know it, we five are at the airport to see my mother off. These few days have let me get used to my new relationship with Mark, and discover how unhesitant I am at giving and receiving affection, which almost throws me off entirely. Right now, though, it's about seeing my mother leave for home again. I had almost wanted her to change her mind, and stay; we have the extra room, but Mama won't stand for it. "You need your space, Ally," she tells me. "Explore your new relationship."

Now is the dreaded moment. Mama's plane has just been called, and we walk toward the terminal. She hugs Luke, Mark, and Glenn before she pulls me into her arms. "You be good, you hear?" she tells me. "Don't make me come back to discipline you."

"I'll miss you, too," Mama says. "It was fun. We'll have to do it again sometime." She smiles at me, which makes me smile back. She walks into the terminal, and onto the plane. As she goes out of sight, a solitary tear slides out of my eye, and I quickly wipe it away.

Luke runs over to the window to watch the plane take off, and we join him. Mark puts his arm around me as a few more tears come down my face as I watch the plane taxi down the runway, and head into the sky. "You okay?" he whispers into my ear.

I nod, wiping my face, and reply, "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just hard to watch her leave." I open my mouth to say more, but how can I tell him about this weird, terrifying feeling of misfortune that I feel at the bottom of my heart? "I guess it's that she's been such a great mother and all, and it seems so awful to see her go."

Mark rubs my shoulder to comfort me. "Come on," he says softly. "We've got a few things to do before we go back to work." I nod, and let him lead me out of the airport, with Glenn and Luke ahead of us.