"No mules would I deny you, child, nor anything.
Go along now; the grooms will bring your gig
With pretty wheels and the cargo box upon it."

"The Odyssey," Fitzgerald Translation. Book 6, Lines 75-77. Used without permission.
 

MICHAEL:

October 4, 2001

Okay, it was a nice wedding and all. Not a free-for-all like Ally and Langly's was (now that was a party), but nice. My mom's happy, Carl's happy, we're all like, this is cool. Food was good, too. And open bar. I didn't get drunk, I only had two beers. Joel took care of the getting drunk part. Lucky for me, he didn't puke in Ally's car. He just passed out on the floor when we got back to Mom and Carl's last night. Nobody bothered to move him. So he wakes up with a wicked hangover and his back's killing him. I get the feeling he's done this before.

Les didn't get drunk at the rehearsal dinner, but she got pretty toasted at the wedding. She started crying at one point. She's bummed about Pam, about school, about Dad, about how she and Mom don't get along so good anymore, about life in general. I almost felt sorry for her. Well, okay, I did feel sorry for her. We spent a long time sitting outside the country club (fucking cold up there on the bluffs, too!) and I let her spill it all. I would've rather been someplace warmer, but I didn't want her ruining Mom's day, because Mom would really get pissed at her then. And she was decent to me about it, she didn't go back inside and start being an asshole to me like sometimes she does.

There were tons of doctors at this gig, so Kelly was like in heaven. She actually talked a lot to Diane, Carl's daughter the anesthesiologist, who's real quiet, but they talked about medicine and school and stuff. Kelly liked her. Got to admit I barely spoke to her, I danced one dance with her because it seemed like the right thing to do, and she was nice and all. And her husband the software engineer seemed like a righteous dude. He's real quiet too. I didn't dance with him.

The funny part was at the end when Joel asked Les to dance. Kind of weird, the two kids who're gay dancing with each other, and besides, hate to admit it but he's way prettier than she is. She did try hard to look real nice yesterday. "I'm gonna do lipstick lesbian," she tells me while she's getting ready. Whatever the hell that is.

So it's finally over, and this is good. It's only like six o'clock, but Kelly and me got to get back to study and do a ton of stuff tomorrow, and anyway, Mom and Carl are heading for Maui tonight. So we do the last set of pictures (God, I hate that part), and we say good bye to Mom, which takes me like half an hour. She's had a little bit to drink and she's all misty and mushy and I'm her little baby all grown up...

I'm going to gag.

We didn't tell her we officially got engaged, but we already talked to her about like getting married after graduation when we came last time, and she was cool with it, and anyway, no point in stealing her thunder. She doesn't like it when you do that. But she gets almost as bad with Kelly as she does with me when we're leaving.

"God, I thought we were never gonna get out of there," I say to Kelly when we're finally locked in Ally's car and headed back to Mom's to just pick up our stuff and get out.

"Oh, Michael, be nice," she shakes her head at me. "She just got married again. She's happy."

"She's tipsy, too."

"So what? It's not like she's falling down drunk, you know!"

Like her mom always was. And then I realize, I bet this day was hard for Kelly. I mean, I know she had fun with all the docs around, but like it probably just reminded her that her mom and sister aren't there anymore.

And for her, that sucks.

"She said to tell your dad and Martha thanks for the flowers," Kelly adds.

"Dad sent flowers?"

"He sent the big arrangement in the ceremony, the one they put on the head table."

"Whoa. That's weird."

But you have to admit, it shows that my dad has class. Sometimes.

Now if we can only get him to do something about the alpaca vest and the yellow hat.
 

I really liked having Kelly stay with me last night. The idea that I have to go home and sleep in my own bed without her is like, well, just not very nice. I suppose I could ask to sleep at Chateau Langly with her, but her bed is real small, and she says she wants to get a lot of studying done in the morning before we hook up again.

"And just think about how nice it'll be next time we get together...sometimes anticipation is a good thing," she giggles.

Yeah, and it makes me nuts.

"So Michael? I think we need to tell your dad about us."

"I don't think he's ready for that."

"I don't think he's ever going to be ready. But I think we need to tell him."

"Yeah." We really do.

Suddenly, I've gone from not feeling like going home to really really feeling like not going home.
 

FROHIKE:

Martha went on days today, working 7 to 7, and by the time she arrived, it was after 8. I should have made her dinner, but my leg still bothers me. The other two incisions, where the bypass and ulcer were done, are not too bad, just some minor itching. But the one where the vein was stripped from my leg is still very bothersome. I know I need to walk on it more, but it's painful after only a few minutes.

I missed her. Having her gone all day was torture.

Particularly after last night. She spent the night in my bed-our bed now, I like to think of it. I haven't slept so wonderfully in years. I woke up and felt rested-and satiated. I got up when she did so that I didn't have to be in bed by myself.

She won't be sleeping on the sofa anymore. I like that.

I slept a fair bit of the day on the sofa myself. I cannot believe I'm still this tired. It's been several weeks now. I get some work done, but not nearly enough. I'm annoyed with myself for this incapacity.

I'm also bothered by certain things that are missing from my life right now-like real coffee, good Scotch, and cheesesteaks. I find having to do without these to be a painful adjustment. Martha is a wonderful cook, and I know I'm going to have to modify some things in my life, but these are my comfort treats, and I'm a lost soul without them. Unfortunately, there are
times when I find myself snapping at her because of my feeling deprived. She takes it calmly, but informs me I cannot speak to her that way. Which I respect.

And I cannot complain of deprivation in one area of my life anymore. When I think about it, if I had to trade cheesesteaks for this, I'd be cheesesteak free for all of eternity.

I'm so happy when I'm with her...why am I so beside myself when she has to go on about her life?

One of the bright spots in my day was a visit from the lovely Dana Scully. She came by with her two young daughters in tow. They're monsters, but they're adorable monsters, and seeing them was a pleasure.

Dana, however, seemed uneasy, very much under the weather. It took a while, but I finally got her to reveal what the problem is.

She's pregnant-again. And feeling poorly, even more so than the first two times.

I don't think this was her purpose in visiting, to confide in me. I think she came as a friend and medical advisor, to express concern and maybe advise me.

It didn't end up that way.

She of course was inquiring after me for quite some time, looked me over, and pronounced me recovering on schedule.

She seemed ill at ease by that point, saying she shouldn't stay, I needed my rest.

I felt there was something on her mind, and there was.

Several things, actually. One, of course, is that she's expecting again.

We largely communicate by writing. "I haven't even told my mother, if you can believe that."

"Why?" I thought she was close with her mother.

"Because my mother will just tell me that every baby brings its own blessings, and I should be grateful...and I should be. Particularly when I thought it would never happen to me."

"But how do you feel?"

"I don't know. Sick, mostly. I feel physically terrible. And I have so much work to do, and barely enough time for the two I have...I just can't seem to reconcile myself to it. You realize that we'll have three children under three years old, which I know that my mother did, and handled it beautifully, but I'm not my mother."

"Your mother didn't have a full-time career as a lecturer and researcher."

"I know. And we have so much work to do, and I'm pushing my staff so hard, all the while not carrying my own weight."

I'm sure she's wrong about that. In spite of her infirmities, I'm sure she's holding her own, and then some.

"How does Mulder feel about it?"

She shakes her head sadly. "He doesn't know yet."

"You need to tell him. NOW." I underline the word now with three bars for emphasis.

"I don't know, Frohike. I know I have to do it sooner or later. Later might be better."

"I disagree." Mulder will want to know. Of that I'm certain. "He wanted a large family."

"Yes, but being with these two characters so much, I think it's given him a reality check. He's saying things like maybe later, when things calm down."

"They're never going to calm down for you two, I'm sure you realize that, don't you?"

"Still...the timing couldn't have been worse."

"When are you due?"

"I calculated my due date to be the 14th of May."

Looks like a late spring-early summer baby boom around here.

"I can't keep doing this, Frohike. I don't know what to do. I actually momentarily considered termination..."

This shocks me. Dana is, like me, very Catholic in her regard for such things. She supports a woman's right to choose. And choosing, to her, means the right to not do it as much as the right to carry it out. For her, it would not be the right thing to do, to terminate the pregnancy.

"I'm 37 years old, which is not young for three pregnancies so close together. I've had problems with the previous two and this one looks as if it's following the same path."

Not good news.

"I shouldn't be bothering you with this," she says to me.

"That's nonsense. What are friends for?"

"And you've always been a good one."

"Have you told anyone else?"

"Ally knows, but that's as good as no one else knowing. I only told her because I work with her in such an intimate relationship. She's bound to notice, and I also know she'll keep quiet about it."

"She's said nothing to me." As I would expect. Allison is a tight-lipped woman. Too tight-lipped at times.

"She wouldn't, either. I doubt she's even told Langly."

Of that I'm certain, or there would have been a public service announcement by now.

"You have to tell him. Today." That much I do know. I know how much I don't like being kept in the dark and fed bullshit. I'm not a mushroom, and neither is Mulder, even if I do regard him as a sort of fungal growth at times.

"There's another thing," she tells me.

"Which is?" Oh Christ, don't let it be something with that miserable excuse for a husband of hers.

"You remember when we started losing our data over the summer...you had to hack into our system?"

"I do."

"I need you to be doing that...if you can. I know it's a lot to ask-"

"It's no bother." And for her, it's not.

"And also...I've been getting some anonymous, and very unfriendly, e-mails. So far I've been able to keep it from happening to the staff, but I think it's likely to spread...and I don't need a panic on my hands. Do you think you could help me?"

"Of course."   She shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable about asking. She knows that I'd do anything to help her.

"I shouldn't really ask, seeing how ill you've been-"

"Dana, my body may not be in great shape, but my mind still works." And my heart.

And thank God, a few other critical parts.

"Thank you, Frohike." She leans over to kiss me on the cheek.

"Don't even think about it."

I should be thanking her. Sometimes some of us just need to be needed.
 

Martha and I, to my delight, both adore old movies. Her favorite is 'Now, Voyager.' Which I own.

And it's not in its place. Where the hell is it?

It's lying on top of the VCR. The kids must have watched it. How many times do I have to tell that useless son of mine to put things back where they belong? It's never ending with him.

"When is that boy going to grow up?" I mutter at Martha.

She laughs. "If putting things away in their places was a hallmark of maturity, a lot of us would be in sad shape."

I laugh at this. She, who is almost anal about returning things to their proper spots, sticking up for my lazy slob of a son?

"He's a good boy, Mel."

"He's got a long way to go."

"Oh, cut him a little, Mel. He works hard."

I can't argue too well with that one. I confess, the boy is a workhorse.

He's also a royal pain in the ass.

Watching the movie with Martha is wonderful. She's as sentimental at heart as I am, and I catch her sniffling during the line, 'but no one's ever called me darling before!'"

"Well, darling, would it help if I did?" I lean over and whisper to her.

My reward is a wonderful, long kiss. And then another. And another.

Hands begin to travel over each other's bodies...

We take it to the bedroom.
 

MICHAEL:

Almost midnight when I get in. The TV screen's blue, like Dad and Martha were watching a movie and then didn't turn off the VCR. And I know Martha's here because I parked right behind her.

I'm quiet when I come in, Dad might be asleep, I really don't want to wake him up, because he's a real bear if he's tired.

I snap off the set. I notice they're watching 'Now, Voyager,' same movie me and Kelly were watching. Or they were. Dad loves that movie, maybe Martha does too. She likes old flicks. I catch her doing Turner Classic movies sometimes.

I hear something. Not real loud or anything like that, but like this moaning noise...

Oh Christ. They're in his bedroom...

Doing it.

Oh Jesus. Both my parents, within 24 hours, doing it-with other people. I mean, it's weird enough to think about your parents doing it. Weirder even when you think about them doing it with someone else.

And Christ, are they noisy. I thought me and Kelly were bad, although last night we were real good about keeping it down.

This is just too bizarre.

So I do the first thing that comes into my mind.

I stand in the hallway, near their door across from mine, which is open so I can slip in real fast.

"Honey, I'm home!"
 

October 5, 2001

"You!" I hear my dad's voice, and it's not happy.

"Hell of a way to say good morning," I groan. I'm tired. I'm trying to work in every minute I can of sleep here.

Dad's not about to let that happen.

"Don't you mouth off at me, dear boy!"

"What the hell is your problem?" Okay, I'm sitting up now.

"My problem? My problem? I think it's your problem, dear boy!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You watch your language, young man, and listen to me."

Oh fuck. He's pissed. Seriously pissed.

"You are not going to be rude to me, or to Martha, in the middle of the night like you were!"

"Jesus, Dad, I was just joking!"

"I'm not putting up with this kind of bullshit, do you understand?" He's got his finger in my face. The temptation to bite it is tremendous. "I don't treat you and your young lady that way-"

"That's because you don't let us do shit when you're around! Christ, you watch us like a hawk, you act like I'm kind of sex-crazed pervert-"

"Which you are."

"Oh, and you're not?" Who the fuck is he to be getting on me like this? I was just having a little fun with them, that's all.

"Martha and I happen to be consenting adults-"

"So're Kelly and me!"

"No, you're not."

"Law says we are, so there!"

"You two are just kids, there's a big difference there-"

"Hey Dad, guess what? We're not kiddies anymore. I asked Kelly to marry me, and she said yes!"

"What?!"

"I said, Kelly and me got engaged!"

God, this is not the way I wanted to tell him. This isn't the way it was supposed to happen...

But it always seems to happen like this.

Oh Christ.

He's speechless. Just kind of looking like I kicked him in the guts.

We both just stare at each other for a few minutes.

Finally, he gets it back together, a little. "Take a shower. When you're done, I want to talk to you, so don't even think about just running out of here."

"I got work to do."

"I said, I need to talk to you, and you're going to listen." He shuts the door behind him.
 

He's at the kitchen table when I come out. "Sit down."

"I'm kind of busy today, you know."

"It can wait. Now sit."

"Fine." Here comes the Dad lecture. I can feel it.

Dad goes slow when he's like this. Takes him a long time to crunch it all up before he opens his mouth. Maybe this is good.

"When did this happen?"

"About three weeks ago."

"And you didn't see fit to tell me. When were you going to tell me?"

He sounds real hurt, more than anything. Pissed off, but hurt, too. So now I feel kind of bad.

"I was waiting till you felt better-"

"Oh, please, I'm tired of hearing that! Certainly gives you all a convenient excuse, doesn't it?"

"Dad, I was trying to be decent about it-"

"Well, you weren't."

He's really feeling sorry for himself today, isn't he?

"Well, I'm telling you now."

"How many other people know, Michael?"

"We didn't tell anybody except Jo. And you can't get mad at me about Jo, man, she's in bad shape."

"I know she is."

I'm not gonna say we told Martha. I think he'd get real pissed at me, and maybe at her, and then he'll be an even more miserable bastard than he already is.

"Where's Martha?"

"Back on day shift."

"When's she get off?"

"7."

Wonderful. He's gonna be in a lousy mood all day.

"Michael, I don't think you're ready to make that kind of decision."

"It's made. It's done."

"Do you have any idea of what kind of commitment you've made?"

"Yeah, a big one."

"No kidding, dear boy. So you think you're sure she's the one for you."

"She is."

He just gives me this look. "I don't know, Michael. You can't even pick out a major in school."

"I'm getting closer." Well, maybe I am, maybe I'm not.

He snorts. "Oh, sure."

"Mom and Kelly and Carl think I oughta do premed."

"What?!"

"What, you don't think I can do it, do you? You don't think I can do anything!"

"I didn't say that."

"No, but you think it, all the time! I work my ass off, just thinking maybe you'll think I do something right for once, but all you do is give me shit about it! Just like with Kelly! Just like with everything! Nothing I ever do is good enough for you, you're never satisfied, you're never happy with me, you're never happy for me!"

I shouldn't lose it with him right now. But I already have.

As far as I'm concerned, this little dialogue is over. I got stuff to do, and I don't have time for his shit.

I'm so bummed.

I hoped he'd at least say congratulations.

Yeah, right.

END OF PART 60