Classification: TRHA

Rating: PG

Summary: Ladies night for Ellen and Ally. A lot of revelations and even more liquor.

Spoilers: Nope, not here.

Disclaimer: I really think they belong to my cybermuses, but I'll have to give 1013 Productions and Fox Television credit for now. Martha, Susan, the B-we know that the truth is out there.
 

"O Hermes, ever with your golden wand
What brings you to my island?
Your awesome visits in the past were few.
Now tell me what request you have in mind;
For I desire to do it, if I can,
And if it is a proper thing to do.
But wait a while, and let me serve my friend."

Homer, "The Odyssey," Fitzgerald Translation, Book 5, Lines 92-98. Used without permission.
 

Katharismos
 

October 25, 1999

The downstairs portion of my house was undergoing mass destruction. 17 teenage girls had descended upon our humble abode, and I feared that even if the house survived, I might be in need of my own services by the time this slumber party was over.

Langly, Byers, and Frohike had been duly warned not to plan to work that night-Miranda's rooms downstairs were only 50 feet from the converted garage that now housed their offices, and they could expect to accomplish little beyond a nervous breakdown should they have decided to stick around. They wisely didn't. Langly in fact indicated that they had a weekend trip planned, and wouldn't return until Sunday, when the house would be restored, the noise level reduced, and my hangover nonexistent.   I think he said something about driving up to Jersey, but he didn't give me any details, and I didn't ask. I trusted him to do only illegal things, not immoral ones.

Ellen finally showed up about 9:00-she had planned to come several hours earlier, but got stuck in a late meeting. She had a liter of Jose in one hand and a large bottle of mixer in the other.

"I thought we might need extra lubrication for this one," she announced.

"So much for the myth that Jewish girls don't drink," I grinned at her.

"What about the one that says we don't do blow jobs, either?" We both gave each other a look and cracked up. And we hadn't even done the first drink.

"And I've never had plastic surgery."

"And I don't overprotect my kids. Hell, I don't think I protect them enough." Ellen was lately riddled with maternal guilt of exponential caliber. Her two sons seemed to be very good kids, and really, she was a good mother, but she was also a workaholic, married to a workaholic, and the combination seemed to be dragging her into the land of the I-need-Prozac
folk.

"What's the deal on your mother-in-law?" I asked as I threw the ingredients for margaritas into the blender.

"Marsha's going to be moving out here next month."

"You get along with her okay?"

"Marsha? Hell, I like her better than I do my own mother, and I feel guilty as hell about it."

"In some ways I liked my mother-in-law better than my own mother as well. I'm not sure I could have lived with her, though."

"If I want some kind of adult presence in my boys' life, I'm going to have to be able to live with her. I'm certainly not there enough."

"Ellen, quit bashing yourself all the time, do you mind?"

"Why? I do it so well."

"Well, there is something to be said for perfecting one's skills, but I think you've got the guilt thing down even better than I do."

"What would I do without it? It's part of who I am. Anyway, Marsha was a schoolteacher in the New York public school system forever before she retired. Dave's father died when he was 9, and she always had to hump ass to get by, so she's pretty good about my not being there to dote on her grandsons all the time, which is more than I can say for my own mother.  I'm sorry I ever gave her my work number. She seems determined to drive me more insane than I already am."

"Mine doesn't call much."

"You're lucky."

"Yeah, but when she does, it's usually because she's pissed off about something and wants to rave."

"So let her rave."

"I do. Then I feel like shit."

I poured the margaritas into two Chablis glasses-we don't drink wine, but they were four for a buck, so we had a liberal supply of them.

She took half the drink in one gulp. "So is she out winning big bucks right now?"

"Seems to be." I really didn't want to talk about my mother; the last time she had gotten on the phone, she had forgotten her medication and she was raging at me for all wrongs real and imagined, and Langly had finally picked up and told her to fuck off, then hung up on her. I needed for her to chill out for a few weeks, and then she'd call and act as if nothing had happened,
and we could pick up again.

I heard a loud crash downstairs. Normally, I'd get up and check it out, but tonight, the solution appeared to be in more tequila. I drank up.

"And I thought boys were loud." Ellen laughed.

"Didn't you ever do this when you were young?"

She laughed her good, strong, Ellen-laugh. "Not on Friday night, girlfriend. Don't forget, my family's Orthodox. I think my marrying a Reform Jew was worse than if I'd married a goy."

"Dave seems pretty cool. How could you hate him?"

"Honey, I just told you. He's not, in their minds, a real Jew."

"Guess I wouldn't be, either."

"No way, and you really blew it by going and getting engaged to your goyische guy." We both chortled. She polished off the balance of her drink in one more gulp. I refilled her promptly.

"I'm afraid we're not going to be able to totally escape the noise, but let's go in the living room, it's not as close to the stairs and we can relax in comfort and style."

"Girlfriend, your style is comfort." Our home decorating style caused some puzzlement on the part of a number of people. We had the best electronics money could buy, but the furniture was, well, how do you say broken-in and make it sound positive? "I thought I had the only house where people could put their feet on the sofa and not get shot on sight."

"I'd have been dead ten thousand time over by now if that were true here."

"Did your mother use those plastic slipcover things?" Ellen asked as she gulped down a large portion of her second margarita.

"Nope. We were just trained that if we so much as sat on the living room furniture, never mind put our feet on it, we were subject to a fate worse than death."

"I assume that would be your mother on one of her rants."

"Would. Or my dad. He could be just as awful." She toed off her flats-Ellen eschewed pumps for the most part, and I unlaced my boots. We placed our feet on the sofa.

"God, it's so good to see you, Al."

"Hey, I've been looking forward to this."

"Girlfriend, you have no idea how much I need a little liquid therapy and girl talk. Not necessarily in that order, of course."

"Liar."

"Yeah, well, okay. How's life back in academia? You seem happy."

"I am. Nice students, my boss is a paternalistic bitch, but I rarely have to deal with her. One of the things I like about the job is the independence it allows. I just do my work, and I do it to suit my students and me, and I get on with it. It's not like I have to agonize over all these huge moral issues. The confidentiality issue is about as heavy as it gets, and it's pretty simple to hang to that."

"Simple for you, maybe. You might find it harder if you had no ethics."

"Well, you just try to do the right thing."

"Don't I know it. I feel like I spend my whole life trying to do the right thing, and half the time, I don't even know what the right thing is." I lit a cigarette, and she eyed me. "Mind if I have one? I quit in college, butit sounds good right now."

"You and Langly, the occasional chippers." I laughed.

"He raids your stash, too?"

"Only once in a while. I think the last time he had one was after we came back from Vegas. He bitched about how raw he felt after having only three of them."

"Thanks. So Al?"

"Hmm?"

"You and loverboy ever going to set a date?"

"Tell the truth, Ellen, we've been so busy, we haven't even discussed it."

"I figured as much."

"And right now, with the...Lydia situation unresolved..."

Ellen looked very sad and guilty. I held up my hand. "Whoa, stop right there, Mama Bear. I know you've been busting ass to find her. So get off the guilt trip."

"Can't. It's unnatural for me. And Al, I'm telling you, we will find her. It's just...ah, shit, who am I kidding? I have no more idea than I did when I first found out about it. That and a lot of the other shit we've been working on."

"What kind of stuff?"

She looked at me levelly. "Al, I'm not supposed to discuss this shit with anyone, okay? A lot of this stuff is classified. So what I tell you is between you and me and the ashtray, got it?"

"Ellen, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"If I don't tell somebody, I'm gonna explode. And I'm telling you because you don't have a big mouth, okay?"

"Does Dave know what you're going through?"

She sighed. "Dave is really great. He really tries to be there for the kids when I can't. He's always trying to be there for everybody, in fact. He sleeps four hours a night on average. And he never bitches that for dinner, we generally select from our wide array of take out menus-if I even make it home. He doesn't complain about the fact that you can't walk in my house, and I am not exaggerating on that one, girlfriend. It's just...Al, I don't even remember the last time we made love and took our time at it. It's like we're so busy living our lives for everyone else, we're not as close as we could be. And that's putting it mildly." She took a long drag on her cigarette, and coughed harshly. "God, I've even forgotten how to inhale."

"Well, then, you're right up there with Bill Clinton."

"No, girlfriend, he just didn't inhale. Or so he says. And I wouldn't put a dollar on that." We giggled. She sighed. "Seriously, Al, I feel like my life is falling apart. I really wanted to work on the X-files. I still do. In fact, I do more than ever. And it's tearing me apart. I want my family life, I want my job, I want them both 200 percent, and I don't want to make any compromises anywhere."

"Sounds like Dave supports you on this."

"He does, but...sometimes Dave is just so damn easygoing, I wish he'd say no to things! And I wish he'd do it because I can't!"

"Like what do you wish he'd say no to?"

"Like when something comes up that requires traveling. Instead of saying no, don't go, he just says, good luck, call me and let me know you're safe."

"Ellen, if he told you not to go, you'd do it just to piss him off."

"Probably. But it's like, whatever I want, no limits, just push myself."

"Sounds to me like he knows you well."

"I just...the amount of emotional energy that goes into this job is unbelievable, Al. And I've done plenty of law enforcement work. I was one of New York's finest for eight years, and I've been at the Bureau for six. So it's not like I haven't seen some godawful shit go down. But nothing prepared me for this, Al. I wanted it. And now that I have it, I'm lucky, I should have been careful for what I wished for." She blinked back-tears? Ellen? "Shit. My solve rate used to be pretty damn good. Now it sucks. I went into law enforcement thinking I could make a difference in this lousy world, Al. And now I'm thinking, I don't know jack. I feel like the stupidest rookie on the planet."

"Mulder speaks highly of you, El. And I don't see him handing out compliments to everyone he meets."

"Yeah. Al, don't say anything about this, but I just have this...hunch that with the arrival of little Becca, he's not coming back. I'm willing to bet that neither of them will."

"They said something?" They hadn't mentioned a syllable to us.

"No. Not a word. This is pure speculation on my part, but I'd like to think that after 14 years of law enforcement, I've developed some instincts, and my instincts say, little Becca wins."

"That bothering you?"

"Yes. No. Both of the above." She reached for the pitcher. "This thing needs a refill, and so do I." She started to get off the sofa.

"Ellen, this is my house, and you're my guest, so sit your ass down and let me get it."

"If you must." She trailed behind me into the kitchen. "Hate to impose, Al, but I haven't eaten, can I scrounge in your refrigerator?"

"No, you may not, but I'll get us something to eat. Feel like some nachos?"

"Sure. Want me to grate some cheese?"

"Ellen, which word didn't you understand? Sit down and be a guest, for God's sake!"

She slumped into a kitchen chair. "Anyway, as I was saying, I really think they'll give it up, Al."

"I'd be really surprised if I did."

"Okay, take this perspective. One, Mulder hates being in the field without Scully. He's certainly equal to the task professionally, but emotionally, without her, I don't think his heart's in it. Two, they've got a brand new baby, a baby that's terribly sick and premature and needs them 200 percent. Three, they're not going to do anything that compromises that baby's safety. And God knows they've had enough people have it in for them. I think they're ready for safe suburbia."

"Somehow I have a hard time envisioning that."

"I don't. Like I told you, this job drains you emotionally like you wouldn't believe. And I really believe that Mulder's had enough. I think he's tired of being an emotional wreck-I mean, he'll still be a basket case, but I think he's ready to be a basket case on a much more limited basis. Even the thing with his little sister, I think that will definitely get a back seat to Scully and Becca. Mulder wants to find the truth, Al. And I think he found it. He found it in his wife and daughter."

"How d'you feel about not having him as your boss anymore?"

"Schizophrenic."

"I think everything connected with Mulder is a bit schizophrenic."

She laughed in assent. "Yeah, he does that to people. Not always in a bad way, mind you. He's the most intelligent person I've ever worked for-I mean, the guy is so damn brilliant it's scary. He's got this amazing intuition, and his experience in profiling-I'm not sure what I'd do without him. On top of that, he's polite and he listens to what we have to say, and he's not faking his interest. He's not without ego, but he's always interested in a different point of view. He seems to thrive on it, in fact. And I love the fact that I can always bounce an idea off him, no matter how outrageous, and he'll listen up and give his input. His mind is this endless warehouse of knowledge, and he's not afraid to share it. I've learned more from him in the short time I've worked for him than I have with any dozen people I've worked with.

"On the other hand, he's flighty, you don't know what's up with him half the time, he micromanages us to death, and his paperwork is the bane of all of our existence down there, mainly because he never does it. Sometimes he can focus with a clarity that's unbelievable, and other times, he's so scattered you wonder how he accomplishes anything. He'll listen, but he can also be bitterly sarcastic, and it can hurt sometimes. Yes, Al, even I get my feelings hurt, unbelievable as that may seem." I poured her a new drink and stuck the nachos in the microwave.

"So what do you want?"

"What do I want? Good question. I'm not sure."

"I think you are, El."

"I don't think so. It's like, Al, I'd love to head up the division, and at the same time, I'm scared to death. The potential to bomb big time is there. And I'm not Mulder. I do occasionally care what my superiors think, if it means I keep my job. I know that sounds like I'm a sellout, but the fact is, if I want to do some good, and I do, it means not getting my ass fired. And if I don't show some results, it's a really vulnerable division. The budget gets cut, we're out. It's happened all over the map in past
years. Any way the political wind blows, that's how we swing.

"Plus I feel guilty for wanting the position. It's almost as if I wish Mulder would quit because then the opportunity would be mine."

"D'you think that influences your sensation that Sculder isn't going to get back in the saddle?"

"It might. I don't think it's just the liquor talking, though."

"What does Dave think about all this?"

She laughed, a short bark. "Dave? It's always, whatever you want, Els. He'd be happy if I got the position, and happy if I didn't."

"Sort of hard to know which way to go on things."

"Even when I know, and I know I'm right, there's always this tension."   She started to sip a little more slowly; her nose had to be numb by now. She's a big woman, but I make sturdy margaritas, and she was downing them like water in the desert. "God, if I wasn't so fucking neurotic, I might actually accomplish something."

"El, you're one of the least neurotic people I've ever met."

"No, Al, you're one of the least neurotic people I've met. You make choices. You stick by them. You don't justify yourself to anybody. You just do."

"I do agonize over some things."

"Yeah, but you're always like, just focus. Your emotional issues don't dominate you."

"I beg to disagree with that statement."

"How so, girlfriend?"

"Well, for example, Wednesday is supposed to be Eric's unveiling. And there's no way I'm going to make it to LA. And it's really got me bummed out." I'd been mentally apologizing to him for weeks.

"Anybody going for you?"

"Emma's gonna do it."

"That's your sister-in-law?"

"Yeah. A lot I've done for her lately." I ruefully poured myself another drink.

"Oh, get off it, will you already? Emma knows this isn't your fault."

"How do you know?" I demanded, a little more sharply than I intended.

"Al, get real, okay? Please, let me beat up myself, I do it so well, and you don't. Emma thinks it's got something to do with her employer."

"I think that route has been exhausted, from what you and Mark have told
me."

"All the obvious stuff has been exhausted. That doesn't mean it's not there. We just haven't found it. And dammit, we'd better find it soon."

"El, I know you're doing everything in your power, so let it go tonight, okay? You're not at work anymore."

"That's the problem. I never leave work. My mind is there."

"Maybe that's why you're so good at what you do."

"Yeah, then how come I'm not showing any results? I've got this backlog of cases, and almost no closes. I'll probably get bounced out on my ass if I don't start coming up with something."

"I don't think so. I think Skinner understands the...nature of what you do."

"Skinner is a really decent boss. I know he's not your favorite guy, but he's really got heart and soul and patience. He knows this is unusual, and he deals with it. But he's still gotta answer to people, and in case you hadn't noticed, I tend to be fairly thin-skinned about what people think of me, and I want him to respect my work."

"You? Thin-skinned?"

"You'd better believe it, girlfriend. Why do you think I push myself? I'm so afraid of a negative comment, I'm gonna make sure that I don't do anything wrong. And lately it doesn't matter. Nothing I do is right." She looked utterly depressed.

"Ellen! This is ridiculous!"

"Maybe. But it's real to me. And it's like, I can't reconcile anything. I want the division head position. I don't want Mulder to leave, and I honestly think he will-of course, if you breathe a word of my suspicions, I'll have to hunt you down and kill you-and I want to do this work, and I'm not getting anywhere with it. I wanna be with my boys, and I wanna work all the time. I want my husband to give me total independence, and then I get mad at him when he does. Go figure." She finished her third drink. We were well on our way to being liquored up beyond recognition. "Enough about me, girlfriend. Now that I've utterly bummed you out, tell me about what's happening by you."

"You didn't bring me down, El. You just need to vent, that's all. What're friends for if you can't scream and rant and rave with them?"

She looked up gratefully. "Thanks, Al. You're a good friend. It's one of your best talents."

"Hey, just doing what needs to be done."

"I swear, they're gonna put that on your headstone, Al."

"Works for me."

"That's because you make it work. I mean, say I'd gotten in your situation, and my husband died. I'd feel like I had to wait until after the unveiling just to even look at a guy, and you went right ahead and followed your heart and plunged in."

"I just don't think time's for wasting. We're not here for all that long. When we were at the wedding, and Langly and I kissed, I said fuck it, I want it, and I'm going to have it. Life is too damn short and messy and ugly not to have good things in it. And he's the best, El."

She smiled broadly. "At the risk of sounding crass-"

"Ellen, I've never known you to worry about being crass."

I got rewarded with a rich Ellen-laugh. "Ain't it the truth? I was gonna say, you ever compare him and Eric in your head?"

I laughed really hard. "God, I'm embarrassed as hell to admit it, but I do it all the time, El. I hate myself for doing it."

"I don't think you'd be a real person if you didn't. So tell me, how do they stack up?"

"Well, Langly's taller and blonder." We giggled like the girls in my basement.

"Aside from that. I'm dying to know, who's better in bed?"

"Ellen, you're positively evil."

"We know that. Just answer the question, enquiring minds want to know!"

"Wellll...they're different in some ways, alike in others. They're both pretty good, if you consider that as a lover, I'm not terribly adventurous. Neither of them go for weird stuff in the bedroom, if that's what you mean. So I've been satisfied with both. They're both gentle, and they're both kind of...what's the term I want? Langly's definitely more weird on the issue of desertion. It's like he's hanging on for dear life sometimes. I think he's had a lot of loss in his life, of people he cares about, and he's been alone for a long time. Eric stopped being apprehensive for the most part a long time ago."

"Well, dammit, you were with him longer."

"Yeah, that's true. I suspect Langly'll get past this. It's weird. It's not like he's real clingy, just in bed. Most of the time he leaves me alone to do what each of us has to do. Eric was more demanding in terms of wanting to know where I was, who I was with, when I'd return, what I was doing. Langly's pretty much always on the move, and he doesn't bug me about that. Well, maybe a bit more lately. Since Lydia...disappeared, we've tried to be more careful, but we've slacked off lately. Except with Miranda and Shelby, of course."

"That kid still just about living over here?"

"As much as she can without declaring us her legal residence." Shelby almost never seemed to go home these days. Even on school nights, she would frequently stay over. "Langly thinks she's having some serious problems at home, and we should just be available to her."

"Girlfriend, kids don't take up permanent residence in somebody else's house unless there's a problem. She's lucky to have you." She topped her drink. "So what else can you tell me about the two men you've loved? I'm curious. I've never had the opportunity."

"El, Langly and I...I don't think I've ever been so happy with someone. But, as much as I love him, and I'm glad he's my life now, I wish things still hadn't gone down the way I did. You want to talk about a weird dichotomy? There's mine."

"Maybe you should just say, I've been lucky, I've loved and been loved by two of the best guys on the planet."

"I absolutely feel that way. It's like, Eric was a gift. Always. I felt so fortunate that he and I had a life together. It was a good life. I loved it and I loved him with all my heart. And I still do. I don't think I'll ever not love Eric. It's just a fact of my existence that I do.

"So being with Langly-it's like being given a bonus prize. I'm not sure why I was so lucky, I just know I am. It's like...how do I say this? I'm definitely getting liquored up here, so my brain is moving pretty slow, it's almost like I was supposed to be here?"

"Maybe you were."

"I have no idea. When I had life with Eric, things seemed more...controllable? Is that the right word?"

"Al, you're totally language obsessed. Get over it."

I laughed. "Life with Eric was mostly calm...he was moody and difficult sometimes, but I expected it. We had our home, our daughter, our work, our animals, our friends. Life moved on, and it was a gentle existence. And I think Eric worked hard to make it like that, and so did I. We were like hobbits in a way-we wanted a comfortable, quiet life, and that's what we had. And I loved it. I was happy.

"Now I'm in this world where I can't even see the shadows. Hell, I don't even know what constitutes a shadow anymore. I feel buffeted from every side. We get into a groove, and then panic breaks loose again. I've never been so tired or so...exhilirated? I hate to say it, but I've become addicted to this, El. I'm scared out of my mind half the time. And I just want to keep coming back for more. You know what I'm saying?"

"What I've been saying all night, girlfriend. I'm there, believe me."

"I feel like I am on this marvelous, wonderful, terrifying adventure, and I don't want it to end. I mean, there are things I definitely don't want to keep going. I want Lydia back. I want her back safely. I don't want to be telling Miranda she's got another fucking dead relative. That kid's been through way too much in her life already. Swear to God, I wouldn't want to be a kid today. I think it's a lot harder than it was when we were kids."

Ellen looked up from her drink. "Mind if I pose a challenge to that? I mean, just for the sake of argument."

"You must've been a debater."

"All the way through high school and college. Old habits die hard."

"You probably took some serious prizes."

"I did. So why do you think your daughter's life is harder than yours was growing up?"

"For one thing, my folks had more money."

"Big deal. So you had more and better things. It's not like she doesn't have enough."

"And my father didn't bite the bullet when I was young."

"How old were you?"

"27."

"Okay, so you had him around till you were a grownup. How much was he involved in your life?"

"Well, he and my mother were always very busy..."

"And were they always available?"

"Well...my parents, they...they had their own life..."

"Al, stop making excuses for them. Were they there for you or not?"

"Didn't feel like it. I feel like I mostly raised my brothers, not them, particularly Jason."

"Maybe that's because you did, Al. Have you considered the possibility? I mean, you want to protect everyone in your world, and I sympathize, because I want to do the same thing. Look at the work you do. You translate classes for your students, but you also cheer them on and listen to their problems and keep 'em going forward. You want your daughter's life to be perfect. I got news for you, girlfriend. Not gonna happen. Already too late. Already too late when she was born. And she deals. God, that kid deals. She's great."

"Yes, she is."

"And I'm getting the sense that there's a lot of resentment between you and your folks."

"Hey, I'm too old for that. What's past is prologue, you know."

"Doesn't mean it's gone away. Hey, my mother makes me crazy. She's not happy with the way I turned out. But Al, she's always there. I know I can count on her, and I always could. I fight her tooth and nail, and always have, but she is there for me, and if I need her, she'll be around."

"My mother did put the down payment on this house, you know."

"Oh, Al, she's trying to assuage her guilt, don't you see? She knows she's put you through hell and back. She knows you don't like her very much. And in her own, warped way, she's trying to buy you back."

"Funny, Langly said almost the same thing. I don't think it's true."

"Then you're delusional, girlfriend. She's how old now?"

"68."

"And she's not gonna live forever. You're her only daughter. She wants some sort of relationship with you, not the one she has, but had no clue how to go about it. So she ponies up a little cash so you and loverboy can raise her granddaughter in the 'burbs. I mean, think about it, Al. She can't possibly be happy that you went and fell for a goy, eight years younger than you, just a few months after your husband is cold in his grave. I mean, just the hair would give my mother heart failure."

"Maybe she just wants me to be happy."

"It's possible. Maybe, though, she could start by being honest with you."

"She's never lied to me, El."

"Yeah, but I bet she doesn't tell you a lot of things. Just like you don't tell her."

"So? Maybe I'm better off not knowing some things."

"Maybe. Sometimes I think I'd be happier not knowing some of the things I do. But for all the nastiness that goes on between my mom and me, I love her, and she loves me. All the warfare in the world won't change that."

"Well...I do love her. I care about what happens to her."

"Of course you do, dammit! But you'll never tell her what makes you happy, what you need from her."

"Maybe I can't get it. So why bother?"

"Because it never hurts to ask, that's why. What do you want most from her?"

"Respect."

"Well, demand it. You can, you know. Don't let her go off on her little tangents when she's gotten too liquored up and then forgets her lithium. You don't deserve that."

"Don't think I could stop her."

"Well, then, just do what loverboy does. Hang the hell up. You notice she always calls again in a few weeks and everything's hunky-dory?"

"I think she forgets."

"Yeah, well, I don't think you do, Al, and I think it hurts you. And letting Langly deal with it is not the answer."

"You're right. It's not. I just...I hate conflicts, El. I really do. It makes my stomach turn."

"We all hate 'em. Mostly we survive 'em. God, Dave and I, if we shied away from conflicts, we'd have no life." She giggled. "How's your daughter doing with your engagement? You said she wasn't exactly thrilled about it in the beginning."

"It's weird. She really likes Langly a lot. But after we got engaged, she's been decidedly more...subdued with him. She's getting better about it, they've started arguing again, which is a good sign for the two of them, but any attempts on his part to discipline her, she really is resentful. It's like all the dynamics have done this major shift to the left."

"Of course they have. And they'll shift even more after the wedding. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. But this is probably really awkward for her."

"We're not all that big on PDA or anything."

"Yeah, but she knows you're sexually active with him. She sees that you're intimate with him. She's watching the whole thing unfold at a time in her life when her own sexuality is coming into play. And that's gotta be hard for her, and for you guys."

"I guess it would be. Problem is, sometimes I think of Miranda as so adult, and other times, I think of her as my little girl. Weird, isn't it?"

"No, it sounds like you're a normal parent to me. I just mentioned it because you'd said she'd been sort of difficult lately, and don't forget, you can take the girl out of her sociology major, but you can't take the sociology major out of the girl. I'm not indicting your skills as a mom, Al. You're a terrific mom, way better than me, and your kid knows it. And loverboy does seem to have a rapport with her. I think he's pretty good father material, actually. Are you guys thinking of adding on?"

"Get real, El. I'm 44. I'm not saying it couldn't happen here. I'm just saying it probably won't."

"I think they'll be okay, Al. And I think they'll be okay because they've both got you."

"Methinks thou dost give me too much credit."

"No, I think you don't give yourself enough. Whaddya say, girlfriend? Ready to move this party back to the living room?"

"Hey, we've got nachos, we've got margaritas, we've got each other. What else do we need tonight?"

END OF PART 30