Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 25

The hallway air was moist with leftover shower steam, and it smelled like Deana's shampoo. Her bedroom door was ajar but he didn't look in. Gloria's door was closed and there wasn't any light showing under it. She was asleep, like she should be, in her own bed. He swung the corner into the kitchen and caught himself using the wall. I guess mom is right, he thought, those were his hand prints.

Deana was at the sink and hadn't heard him. The white towel on her head made her look top heavy. Unable to resist, he approached in stealth mode and grabbed her, pressing her against the counter. "Hal"

She shuddered and did a pathetic fear dance. "Damn it!" she hissed. "Damn it, Evan, you jackass."

"You're lucky," he said. She smelled fresh like a field of flowers.

"Lucky" she said, "lucky you scared the hell out of me?"

"No, lucky I didn't yank your towel off like I used to do."

"That would have been better than giving me a heart attack."

"So," he said, "you'd rather I see you naked than scare you?"

"I didn't say that. I was talking about the towel on my head," she said. "You're the pervert who wants to see me naked."

How had she suddenly flipped it to make him the bad guy? "It might teach you a lesson," he said.

Deana stared awkwardly at him, then finally said, "If you didn't have a dirty mind, it wouldn't matter what I wore around here!"

Was she right or was he still feeling the effects of that kiss? He changed the subject, "Hey, Brainiac, I need your help studying for my social studies final."

"I'm not as smart as you think I am," Deana said. "You get straight A's."

"That's because I pay attention, instead of fantasizing about having sex with my teacher. She flashed her all knowing smirk.

"I suppose you're right," he said, "but I still need your help." "I'm sure we can work something out," she said, and walked away. He watched her hips swing side to side. Was she trying to look

seductive? No, not Deana, he thought, it had to be him, he was the

one who sniffed her underwear. That had to stop.

Candy laid on her bed watching John through the partially open bathroom door. He was naked, brushing his teeth. His muscled, six-four body was still intimidating after all these years. She'd known him most of her life. At twelve, she became the babysitter. Evan and Deana were babies then, but now, Deana looked so much like her mother, Sandra that it was scary, and Evan wasn't her Little-man anymore.

Sandra was younger than John, and the most beautiful woman Candy had ever known. She was wise and easy to talk to, so Candy told her all the things she couldn't talk to her parents about. Other than herself and the father, only her sister, Sally and Sandra knew who Gloria's father was. She loved Sandra like a big sister, the same way she loved Sally, before things went wrong. "...and knocked up, her mother screamed. "I told you all that curiosity would get you in trouble. Whose is it?" Candy never told. She was a teenager when Gloria was born. Her parents, Sally and her brother, Bobby insisted she, "Do the right thing," but she refused to give Gloria up for adoption like Sally had done with her baby. She still wondered what became of that beautiful, redheaded baby girl.

The teenager Candy had been, with all the fantasies, hopes and

dreams, was gone. She was Mommy to Gloria, and Sandra became

her mentor, and the one to suggest she move in and become their full time nanny. Maybe she flirted, but John should have discouraged her, not taken advantage of her curious nature. One night, while Sandra was home, John came into her room, the very room Gloria now called her own, and he fucked her. That's how she saw it now, even though John's giant arms used to give her comfort and courage and confidence, now she said, "He fucked her."

When Sandra was killed in a car accident, John was a single father, she was a teenage drop-out with a baby, living in his house. He told her people would talk, he laid it out like a business deal, she should marry him or move out. Now, he owned her.

John came out of the bathroom and approached the bed. She'd stopped taking the pill six months ago, hoping if they had a child of their own, he would love her the way he used to. He didn't want anymore kids. He said three was enough. That was easy for him to say, he had his two kids, his business and his friends. What did she have other than Gloria?

John climbed on the bed and the mountain of a man, who had made her feel alive as a girl, covered her like dirt on her coffin. Why now, after six months, why now?