What IS it about final chapters? Just when I want to go racing toward the big finish, I realize there's another subplot or something else that I have to address before I can do that. This chapter deals with some of those things as simply as possible, but I'm glad this is just the first draft so that I can go back and do some of this in a less haphazard way later!

It's still kind of fun, though, and his reunion with Lakesha and her crew will tickle some of you who know their story. The next chapter is going to be a hoot for sure--you'll see why when you get to that part. Enjoy the updates, for now.

And the song is for baby boy Ty, by the way. You'll "get it" in a minute...

It started like what was becoming a normal day for us, after a couple of weeks. Until Mike came sashaying in half nekked.

I mean, there I was really enjoying just feeding the kids—okay, I'm gonna get all squishy on you here, so just bear with me. But those first days after I became their father legally, the silliest stuff just got to me. I was totally mesmerized by everything they did.

I mean, I'd spent a lot of time with them all along, but you know how you hear people say the same thing about getting married? That everything sort of gets more serious once it's legal? I believe that now.

Cause just watching how they chewed something or how their little fingers pinched up a cracker off the high chair tables or learning the difference between the way Taylor drank from a sippy cup and the way Ty did—I could hear Ty swallowing louder than Taylor—fascinated the hell out of me. I could watch them do any little thing, and get all choked up.

So Mike bopping in there in her little boxer briefs and bra kind sort of killed my buzz. No, really, I know there are millions of men who would've changed places with me in a heartbeat, but I was in full daddy mode those days.

So I go, "Yo! I'm not alone here."

And for a minute she just sort of hung there, like she didn't understand English anymore. But then I saw the problem dawn on her a little bit. Although just to be contrary, as she was going to the fridge for something, she gave me this over the shoulder wink and bent over just enough to twerk it a little bit.

And then Taylor let out this squealy little laugh and pointed to Ty, who was sitting there with his head cocked to one side, watching Mike's butt like he wasn't exactly sure what it was doing but whatever it was doing he was down with it.

And Mike said, "Well, we know he likes girls now."

"But his expectations are gonna be 'way too high, though," I told her. As a peace offering for being such a jerk to her.

She came over and kissed me on the top of the head and said, "Good! Only the best for my boys," on her way back out of the room with her yogurt. My yogurt. I couldn't keep anything in that fridge long.

She passed Bonnie on the way out and Bonnie turned to watch her for a minute and then looked at me and said, "See, now that's just not fair."

"What's that?" I asked her, as she sat down with her first big morning mug of coffee.

We'd taken to meeting in my master suite kitchen since that's where I always took the kids. I had it put in so that I didn't have to go all the way to the real kitchen if I wanted something while I was hanging out in my master bedroom, which is kind of like a little apartment on its own, I have to admit.

The girls sort of didn't want me to have a kitchen in it at first, even if it was just a little one. They thought I'd hole up in there too much. But I didn't. I mean, I had three hot as hell women who walked around in boxer briefs and bras—and even less—out there, waiting to twerk for me. I'm no fool.

But now, well, I needed to ponder that. Set some new boundaries, even, after all those years, because the babies were old enough to walk and talk and maybe really notice what was going on in the house. And the girls were coming back home soon, too. Who were we going to be to each other now, with the kids there in the middle of it?

Anyway, Bonnie looked over the little plate of pastries from our favorite bakery down the street and picked a big old chocolate chip croissant to pick at. Gave Taylor a tiny piece.

"How they're built," she said. "I mean, I had a nice little shape when I was their age, but they're just..."

"Ridiculous," Kelli said. She was still brushing her wet hair when she walked in and sat down. "I've always wondered how a guy your age—didn't they drive you crazy, walking around the house like that?"

I poured out a few little cracker things on each of the little high chair tables. They love those crackers, but I only give them a tiny bit, and only after they've eaten something healthy first.

"Sometimes," I said. "But when it's somebody who yells at you to go pick up your room and stuff like that, it takes all the sexy out of it. They were too much like mothers or sisters or something."

"Oh, I don't think they were just mothers and sisters," Bonnie teased me. She knew the truth. From Maddie complaining about how nobody could compete with what I had waiting at home.

Kelli let that slide and just said, "My mother didn't look like that for sure."

"My mother was fine as hell," I told her. "But she never walked around in her undies. Which of course, I never even thought about 'til these little ones moved in for good."

"Well, you're used to it," Bonnie said. "But what you gonna tell them when they see you comin' out of different bedrooms in the morning? Or them comin' out of yours? Kids see everything."

"I don't think that's gonna be goin' on anymore," I said.

"Cause of Wyatt?"

I wanted to say, "Yes." But that relationship was even more complicated. If I hadn't been so busy with the babies I might've been really worried. I was worried, actually. I just had lots of distractions.

So I just said, "Maybe. But I'm with you on this, though. I mean, I really do wonder what'll happen when these guys get out there'n' see how other people, other families are. I mean are they gonna be like, 'Okay, what's wrong with this picture?'"

Kelli shrugged and said, "There's all kinda families out there now. People have two moms or two dads. No moms, no dads..."

"Some have three and four moms," Bonnie said. "It's on TV. That guy with all the wives."

"See, that's the way I used to feel," I said, "when somebody would ask me, like, didn't I ever have a normal family. There is no 'normal' anymore. I mean, girls walkin' around half nekked's pro'bly pretty tame by today's standards."

"You turned out pretty good," Kelli said, giving me a little flirty smile.

"Yeah, well, I guess I did," I said. "So maybe it's not such a big deal, you know? Normal. Maybe normal's whoever loves you like family would."

"I had a normal family," Kelli said. She was sort of smirking. "And then it ran right off the rails. God. So depressing."

She tore off a little piece of a pastry I don't know the name of and shrugged. "My dad left us for some young chick he met at work, my mother was a pill popping zombie for a couple of years and us kids just got bounced back and forth from house to house every week. From one angry parent to the other. I mean, I would've been happier in your house than I was in mine. And we had the McMansion and everything. All the stuff you're supposed to have—times two, after my father married his little hottie and bought her a big old house just to make my mother even more miserable. So normal sucks."

I reached over and gave her wrist a little squeeze, and said, "We're making you all sad. I'm sorry."

"No, you've gotta work it out," she said. "But in a way, I hope you never change too much. If you'd been the little all American boy you wouldn't've ever met that JJ guy. And then they wouldn't have all this!"

"Now, that's the truth," Bonnie said. "And I'd trust you to raise a child before I'd trust damned near anybody I've ever met. You've got the right ideas about life. And what to do with all this you got here. That's the important thing. You teach 'em that, they'll make a real difference in the world."

"It'll be hard to teach them anything," I said. "Living in a big old three ring circus."

And we all laughed when all three girls came rushing in as if to illustrate that idea. Dressed, this time, with Aisha in the lead. She was scrolling through something on her cell, which she shoved in my face when she got to the table.

"You see this?!" she said.

I pulled her hand back so I could focus. It was a picture of Hugh, Amelie and Nick—of all people—standing in front of some kind of bridge in...Paris, I thought, maybe. By the look of it. They've got those bridges across the Seine in that one part, you know? Really pretty.

Yeah, it's a pretty city. Like as if they design cities the way they cook food over there. The cities look like the food tastes. That "feast your eyes" thing? You can do that there. I like the scenery more than the people to be honest, but I do love to just sit in those cafes they have out on the street, like you see in the movies, just chillin'. Another world. An old, beautiful world.

But let's get back to my world. My circus tent, I mean.

Where Aisha was grinning and screaming, "They done got married! Swear to God! Looka here!"

I snatched the cell and scrolled to read the message, which was:

"Tied the knot this morning in Paris. Headed your way later this week. Tirrah, luvs!"

"That's it?!" I said. "No details?"

"Who's that guy there?" Kelli asked me from over my shoulder. Her and Bonnie were both up trying to see what the hubbub was about.

"Uncle Nick," Cat said. Adding, "Long story," and a little pat on the back for Kelli.

"What is he doing there?" I asked them.

"He's working with Amelie," Mike said.

"What kinda work?"

"She's trying to get him to meet with some sort of government officials in those places that don't want refugees," Cat explained, lifting Ty out of his baby chair for a cuddle.

Before I could even finish saying, "Really?" Aisha hauled Taylor out of her chair and kissed her. Cat grabbed Ty before Mike could. Mike's maternal instincts had started to kick in to our surprise. Or, actually, she was more like a dad would be. Rough housing with them on the floor and stuff like that. It was good to see her involved, either way.

"Nick's gonna ruin his reputation," Mike said. "Doin' all this good guy stuff."

"It's a shrewd move, though," I said. "He definitely knows what buttons to push."

I was thinking about how he'd handled the judge. I owed Nick big time. He'd brushed me off when I tried to thank him, of course, but I was still going to find some way to show my appreciation.

"They're gonna come after you next," Mike said. "They'll tell you about it."

"To do what?"

Bonnie went to get more mugs for everybody and Mike grabbed a croissant and pulled off a big piece which made Kelli give out with this little snort laugh and shake her head, as she sat back down. It drove other women nuts to see watch the girls eat all kinds of awful crud and keep those perfect bodies anyway. And they don't work out, either. They dance and stuff, though.

Mike was all into Hugh's news, so she just said, "Some sort of emergency fund for those refugees over there. To build shelters for 'em. They wind up living in these awful places. No water, no electricity, no sanitation—no food or anything, either. And they can't work because they're not legal, right? And the locals are all pissed at them, too, so nobody'd hire 'em even if they had papers."

"Amelie almost got trampled to death at this one border," Cat said. "They started cramming them into big trucks and then into box cars, like cattle—Nazi stuff. So all these little kids got separated from their parents. And when all the mothers were running around trying to find them, the army guys started man handling them, trying to push them back toward the trucks. And then of course, the husbands started fighting back and the soldiers just started charging into the crowd, clubbing everything in sight. That's when Amelie got knocked down. They were shooting at them, too, she said."

"With all those kids out there?" I said.

"That lil' boy on the beach, he the thing that hurt me," Aisha said.

I knew what she meant. There'd been this picture of a little toddler laying dead on the beach where his body washed up after the little raft thing his father tried to put together to get across the water had fallen apart or sank or something.

And for days after I saw it, I kept seeing Ty being swept away from me in the ocean or in some kind of flood. His little terrified face. And me going nuts watching the water take him. I'd already been through something like that when my family burnt up. But I didn't see it. And also, he's my baby, you know? I'd be watching my own child, choking to death.

"You gon' help 'em, right?" Aisha asked. Like she'd been reading my mind.

"Oh, you know he will," Bonnie said. "He'll be trying to adopt them all, prob'ly."

To save my sanity, I looked at the "wedding" picture again and said, "Helluva honeymoon."

"You know that girl don't never quit," Aisha said. "She followed 'em all the way from over there where they be cuttin' people heads off at. Tryin'a make a movie so people could see what they doin' to 'em."

"Nobody cares," Mike said. And I gave her a look, but she doubled down.

"C'mon! They're wantin'a round 'em up over here, too," she said. "We're goin' all kinda Nazi on 'em right here in the land of the free. I hate this world right now."

There was this moment of anxious silence. Because I think we all sort of hated the world a little bit right then. Some days, I wasn't sure the world as we knew it was going to last much longer. I was scared about that, too, for my kids.

See, having kids does this weird thing. Your instincts are super sharp—animal sharp. You can smell trouble, almost. The fight or flight thing, left over from our cave man days, when you had to trust all that to survive. I feel this adrenalin rush whenever I sense any kind of danger that might come at us. And those days, I was wired almost 24/7.

I didn't want to think about that right then, though. So I said, "What kinda wedding present should we send 'em?" I asked. "Flak jackets?"

Everybody laughed. And I sent them a little text message back, teasing them about the flak jacket thing. But actually, it was just like Hugh to suddenly go, "Let's do it," in the middle of a conversation or something. She was his greatest adventure, this woman. So I could see how he'd want to just lock it down. Do the damned thing.

She wouldn't have wanted the white dress and all, either. Just the man. Just the two of them. No foofy ceremonies or toasts or any of that nonsense.

I'm the same way. I figure when it's right, nobody else needs to tell you or make it "official." It's like how some animals mate for life. Nobody can make it any more right or any more real than it already is. Yeah, you can share the joy with friends and all that but we'd all seen it in their eyes already. In how they were with each other.

They looked happy in the pictures, too. Not that sappy happy you get in wedding photos, but that deep happy. Widest smile I'd ever seen on Hugh's face, in one of them. And the way he was looking at her in one of the others, I could feel it. Epic love, you know? The kind they write books about. Or try to. You couldn't write this. Unless you were God.

Nick just looked like Nick. All suavemente and sophisticated. He always reminded me of those matinee idols, back in the day. That guy in the Thin Man movies, that kinda guy.

How the hell would I explain Nick to the kids? "Uncle" Nick, the slightly shady character who could do things you didn't really want to talk about. But who'd helped me get the chance to raise them. And now was over there trying to keep a lot of other kids alive.

There it was. I'd almost solved it. Nobody's all bad, nobody's all good. Give everybody the benefit of the doubt. Love 'em for the good they might do someday. Even if you don't get a chance to see it. Something like that. I'm still working on it.

When there's nobody giving me orders like, "Tomorrow you got to be ready by nine," like Aisha was right then. "Cause the plane comin' a lil after that. I guess they gon' shoot at the airport first, and then they comin' over there to shoot some stuff in the club."

Reality blows sometimes. I mean, I didn't want to be thinking about clothes and photo shoots and stuff like that. But I had to. That was circus life, too. And I was the friggin' ring master. Who'd been gone too long and needed to crack that whip. Get the show back on the road.

"I'm gonna have to talk to Yoshi, though," I said. "I mean, the clothes are supposed to be affordable. Not for people with private jets and whatnot."

"Them the ones wanna see private jets and whatnot in the pictures, though," Aisha said. "People always be wantin' what they cain't have."

"You already did those ones in that alley the one time," Mike said. "With all the graffiti and whatnot. They were tight."

"People want to dream, though, right now," Aisha said. "They need to look at somethin' beautiful. To get away from the hatefulness."

"Well, they've sure got the right guy," Kelli said.

It was cute the way she smiled at me. But I always feel a little bit uneasy being adored like that. You remember. My looks bother me a little bit.

So I said, "Speaking of dreaming..."

Because Taylor looked like a tiny little junkie up there in Aisha's arms, her head bobbing around and her eyes all drunk and drowsy. So I reached up and Aisha gave her to me. And as I cradled her against me, she snuggled in.

She wasn't worried about any of the stuff we'd been talking about. She had all these loving arms around her all the time. That's all that mattered.

"Aren't you goin' over to that school today?" Bonnie said.

"Yeah, they're doing some sort of deal that lets you work online mostly," I said. "You come in a couple of times a week to do these tests and stuff like that. Check in, talk about things you didn't understand, stuff like that. All digital, mostly. Wyatt's in LA for training. Six days she'll be gone. Or five and a half, I guess she said."

"Why now, when school will be out in a coupla months?" Cat asked. Ty was buttoning and unbuttoning one button on her blouse like his life depended on mastering that skill. Mike had really started something that morning, right? Dude liked girls a lot.

"Senior Week," I said. "No regular classes."

"For a week?"

"Yeah! They all meet in the auditorium for first period and then they go off to all these different activities. There's a job fair, college tours—they want them to do something after graduation besides get pregnant or wind up in jail. And actually, more of 'em show up for Senior Week than they do during the rest of the year, Wyatt says."

"Can you go?" Kelli asked. "I mean, are you even a student anymore?"

"They didn't drop me completely because it was a medical thing," I said. "But I have to start over again. Only, the deadline to get registered is, like, tomorrow. Wyatt kept yelling at me to get over there, but I just had so much going on."

Aisha mussed my hair and said, "She want you over there wit her. At that new school."

"You should go, too," I said. "She's got mad skills. You saw that, remember?"

"If I was Wyatt I wouldn't wanna go anywhere near this bitch," Mike asked.

Aisha sort of looked down like Mike had said what she was thinking, maybe.

But I said, "I think she understood where that came from. We all do."

"So how come it's all talk and no action?" Mike said.

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, there's nobody watching you now. You're free and clear. You'd think she'd be dropping by or staying the weekend and whatnot."

"Nobody's watching him, maybe," Bonnie said. "But let a parent see her over here strolling up and down the streets with a student, she'll never teach another day in her life."

"She don't even need to be bothered wit them people, though," Aisha said.

That's when Cat looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Maybe she wants to be."

So I went, "Uh, oh. Come on wit it."

She sighed and said, "I've said it all before. You need to stop stealing her power all the time. Let her do for herself. Figure herself out."

"I didn't just jump in for nothing," I said. "There was all kinda crazy shit goin' on in her life."

"Yeah, and when a whole lot of crazy shit happens, it's a sign," Cat said. "You keep trying to throw her a lifeline when she's got lessons to learn—so do you, for that matter. Let go for a while. Let the woman find her own way back."

"Oh, go 'head Miss Oprah," Mike said. But I could tell she was kind of impressed, actually. Not surprised, though. She admired Cat's female intuition. Mike's too "Mike" for that kind of stuff. She's the warrior. Cat's the queen.

So I said, "That ain't Oprah. That's just the pure unvarnished truth."

"Do she know it, though?" Aisha asked. "Cause don't look like she believe she got no power."

"She took care of him better than those doctors," Bonnie said. "Took care o' the kids, too. And was strong enough to step out of the way after those last two case workers got all mean with her. Don't forget that."

"Oh, she stepped up then, for sure," Cat said. "She got past Aisha, even. But every time he rescues her, it just sucks the pride right out of her. I know you don't want to hear that, but I see it in her eyes sometimes. Like how you look when you're driving and you make a wrong turn, you know? You're looking for that house or that store you always pass, but it's not there. And you're all like, 'Whoa. Wait, where am I?' She looks like that all the time."

I was glad the cell phone buzzed—it was just laying on the table then--and Kelli glanced at it and went, "Jeez, he's married five minutes and it's back to business already. Check this out."

She slid the phone over and I read this message about the two guys we'd talked to in Vegas. The ones we were going to do a movie with. Hugh wanted to start "expediting" all the movie stuff when he flew in because they'd given him a rewrite that the director they'd been wanting to hire was finally happy with.

Celie's whereabouts were unknown, by the way. Or rather, she was in some sort of rehab thing, for a while. So we couldn't go forward with hers. But I sent him a text right quick, and then looked up at my crazy little family talking and laughing and tearing up those pastries—all women except for Ty. Am I the luckiest dude on the planet or what?

"You taking the babies with?" Kelli asked, stepping out of the whirlwind for a second.

"Nah, not this time," I said. "Kids get antsy in offices and stuff. I'll try to wrap it up as fast as I can, though."

"Don't rush! I'm starting to feel like a welfare cheat or something," she said. "I miss my job."

"Well, I like your job," I said. "But we can share, I guess."

"You know I don't hate that woman," Aisha said—out of left field. She meant Wyatt.

So I went over and hugged her and said, "She knows it, too. She does."

And Aisha touched my cheek and said, "If you happy, I'm happy. And if you not happy, I'm not happy, neither. So you tell 'er we ain't gon' be happy 'til she come home. Tell 'er it was me said that."

I kissed her and rubbed her back and said, "I'll give 'er the message."

And then I kissed both kids and handed Taylor off to Kelli. She didn't wriggle or flinch or anything, Taylor. They were fine, the kids. It was me creating all the complications and doubts.

I drove the girls to the "executive" airport because they loved it when I did that myself. And then I swung by DeGrazia to meet with the "transition specialist" who'd been hired to talk to parents and kids about the big move to wherever they were sending us after DeGrazia closed down.

Her name was Cathy Bennett. She was young and perky but I didn't trust that smile. Not because I didn't believe her, but because I felt like she was probably some kid right out of college who didn't know what the hell she'd got herself into.

The district knew what they were doing, though. I think they felt like angry parents wouldn't be quite so quick to yell at a wide eyed, clueless kid. Poor thing. I felt for her, but I got sort of angry at the people who put her there.

But she just smiled and listened and said, "That would be our Fast Track program. I'm going to give you these. And you can complete your registration at that computer by the door there. I'm here if you have any questions."

And then as I was flipping through all those papers she'd given me, she got all flushed and said, "I think I've heard about you."

"Yeah? From who?"

"Just...a lot of people," she said. "I can see why."

Awkward.

I said, "Guess I made an impression," and then, "So, from here it's don't call us, we'll call you, huh?"

She blinked like she didn't get it. But then she laughed and said, "Actually, you'll get an email and a letter telling you when to come in for orientation at the new school."

"What school are we going to?"

"It's Walker Magnet."

I frowned and said, "Like, 'way over East."

She blinked her big eyes—she was like an anime cartoon. That wide eyed stare, and how her eyes did that robotic blink.

I said, "Are they gonna bus everybody over there or what?"

"Well, we have free bus passes," she said, all proud like that solved everything.

But my frown didn't budge. Because most of the kids would never get to school if they had to take city buses that far. They'd either jump off at one of the stops to go to somebody's house or something, or if the bus was late, they'd just walk off into the neighborhood and goof off for the rest of the day around there.

So I said, "They really don't want us over there, do they?"

"I'm not...who doesn't?" she asked.

"They don't want us at Walker. In their perfect little neighborhood over there."

"There'll be some buses," she assured me. "But students won't all be arriving and leaving at the same time anymore. It's a new program. Flex schedule."

And then she gave me another flirty smile and said, "So you can sleep in sometimes, if you want."

I didn't know what to do with that. I wasn't sure she knew what she'd actually said, to be honest. The "subtext" that a guy could read into it. She was just a bobble head. A pretty one, but still...

So I said, "That computer there?"

And she nodded toward it and said, "Only one working today. We've been having a horrible time with the server. You're lucky you waited 'til after the rush."

I wanted to say that that was just more proof they didn't want us. Even the server kept booting us out. But I just went on over and signed on. Didn't have any major problems. But the ones I did have were the kinds of things that would turn off a kid who didn't know computers like I did.

See, I usually have a good idea what might be wrong and how to work around it. But a lot of the kids there didn't even have computers at home. Yes, in this day and age, there are people who aren't all wired up.

And some kids sort of act out their anger about it by pretending they don't give a damn, or that they hate computers and technology period. So if something goes wrong, they get up and walk off talking about how the damned things never work or something like that. They're scared of 'em, scared of how far behind they are, too. Scared they'll never catch up. And they should be.

But Cathy girl there, she was tickled to see me boss that damned computer around all by myself. She checked something on her own computer and said, "You did it! Maybe you should stick around and show the others how."

"Nah, got a hot date," I said. Almost just to calm her little flirty ass down. But I was supposed to meet Lakesha and her crew for lunch, though.

Cathy said, "Well, you'll hear from us soon," in her perky, job voice. But her eyes were still sending me the "Go" signals. So I saluted her and left right quick.

When Lakesha saw me bopping toward her, she let out a big old "whoop, whoop!" And a lotta female faces lit up, too. Some of the guys gave me a pound and whatnot as I passed their tables. It was sort of nice to be back, actually. Shocked me a little bit, that I felt that way.

Lakesha's little circle ate on this patio in front of the cafeteria, where the student radio station kids played music and had little dance contests and such. There were a bunch of tables on the little stage this time, though. With lines of kids standing there, filling out things.

"What's goin' on?" I asked Lakesha after she'd hugged the hell out of me.

"You what's goin' on. Siddown, cuz!"

"I mean up there. What's all that?"

Everybody scooted down so I could sit right in front of her. They had two tables they always shoved together. There were some guys now, that hung with them, too. So I did some crazy hand jive with them after I sat down.

And this very good looking girl Maria that I sort of remembered from class said, "Graduation shit. And prom shit, too."

"Uh, oh. Prom time?"

"Almos' didn't have one," Lakesha said. "They been beggin' people to buy tickets—moved the date back twice, I think. Place they rented, they needed a certain amount to hol' it for us."

"You going?" I said.

Both tables laughed their asses off. And one of the boys said, "You could afford it, yo. You go!"

"C'mon, it's that bad?"

"Don't nobody wanna spen' that kinna money to set up there listenin' to that punk ass music they gon' play over there," Lakesha told me. "They got some kinna oldies band ain't nobody heard of. DJ neither. It ain't for us no way. It's for them kids on the Student Council and the sports teams and allat. The real school kids."

"C'mon, it's the prom," I said. "People go so they can say they went."

"Len' me some prom money then, man," one of the other guys said.

"Shit, fuck money, len' me one o' them honeys to walk in wit," another one said. And they all slapped five and laughed again.

"He need to walk in there wit all three of 'em on his arm," Maria said.

"Ooooo, they'd have a heart attack, wouldn' they?" Lakesha said. "All them big ol' boobs and booties bouncin' around."

"Damn, maybe we needa go, y'all," another boy said.

And after the big laugh that got, I asked, "None of you are going?"

"Why you so concerned about a prom, home boy?" Lakesha teased me.

I decided to give 'em both barrels. So I shrugged and said, "I met this girl, when I was still sick. She was 'way sicker. Dying actually. And alls she wanted was to get well enough to go to the prom, you know?"

Believe it or not, they all got real quiet. And this girl Carla I remembered said, "She dead?"

"Yep. It as prom night, too. Or the morning after, real early. When her friends were probably still out running around doing whatever you do after a prom," I said.

Man, they looked sad, those kids.

So I added, "I bought her a corsage, to wear at her funeral."

And Lakesha "punched" my shoulder and said, "Oh, you know he gon do you right."

"I bet she was up in Heaven just grinnin' all big," one of her girls said. "Showin' off to all the other girls up there wit 'er."

"How much does it cost?" I asked them.

And Lakesha's eyes locked on mine. And she said, "I see you."

"C'mon! When is it and how much does it cost?" I said.

"This fool gon' do sum crazy," she told the others. And then to me she said, "Even if you pay for tickets we ain't got no clothes. Thing only two days away, too. You got to have a dress or a tux an' a ride an'--

"Break it down for me," I said, taking out my cell so I could type a memo.

"You gon' pay for er'body?" Carla asked, craning her neck to watch me type.

"Just break it down. What all do you need?"

For a minute, nobody could speak. Or even move. And then, slowly, they started to think of things that they would have to have. And I started to really enjoy myself. It was do-able. But I wanted to do it to death.

So I shot the memo to Che. And then I called Joie, and said, "Hey, hot stuff! Wanna make a miracle?"

And I swear to God, that was all I had to do. And I swear to God there are people who will go to their graves still talking about that night.

Seriously, I think about it all the time, too, I'm not gonna lie. One of the most memorable nights of my life. And you know my life so you know if I'm sayin' that it must've been pretty damned amazing.

That's enough hype, let's just get on into it.