Unfortunately, life was not going smoothly for some of my other coworkers. Liz came in one Monday looking dead on her feet, the usual dark bags under her eyes having gradually gotten more apparent. She had answered vaguely when asked what the matter was, and kept mostly to herself. Emily came in that day with matching dark circles, and an air of stress. They avoided each other all day.

Liz talked very little at that week's S.E. meeting. In fact, her mood seemed to worsen every time Emily's name was mentioned. At the end of the meeting, I stopped her in the hall and asked what was wrong.

"Nothing," she said stiffly, trying to brush past me.

"Surely there has to be something." A sudden thought then came to me, dark and foreboding. "Are you and Emily fighting?"

"No," she said, her voice a little too hard for me to believe it.

"What happ--"

"Look," she suddenly snapped, "everything's fine, okay? Everything's exactly how it's always been."

She then stormed off, leaving me gaping after her.

I didn't get much information when I questioned Emily, either. Her eyes widened when I asked if there was something going on, and she quickly shook her head.

"No, Liz is just going through a lot right now," she then sighed. "It could be considered partially my fault."

"Why?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Just because. I'm not really at liberty to discuss it at the moment, though."

I was extremely stressed out on Wednesday. That next morning we would be shooting the most difficult scene of the episode, and I was completely unprepared. It was after five o'clock, and I couldn't ask for help because everyone had already left. Panicking, I hurried to the bus stop. As I stood waiting, I dialed Emily's number, desperate for some reassuring words. My anxiety doubled at the sound of her voicemail.

"You've reached Emily!" the especially cheery recording said, "Please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Have a nice day!"

Fifteen minutes later, I watched out the window as the bus passed my stop. I needed help, and, as ridiculous as it seemed, there was only one place I could think to get it.

I traveled wearily up the walk, taking in the beautiful red flowers that grew on either side of the cement slabs. The sound of the doorbell was a delightful melody that echoed through the house as I stood waiting. After a moment, the door was thrown open and I came face to face with a little boy with shaggy brown hair.

We stared at each other a moment, before he turned his head and called back inside, "Aunt Emily! Someone's here!"

Emily rushed into the entryway, looking flustered. "Benny!" she scolded while trying to catch her rapidly fleeting breath, "What did I tell you about opening the door?"

Benny turned back to me. "To not to."

She sighed. "Well, at least invite her in."

Benny moved inside to let me pass, then seemed to grow bored and dashed into another room. Emily smiled and shook her head, then turned to me. "Hey!"

"Hey," I replied, moving further into the room.

"What's up?"

We strode into the living room, where half a dozen army men were scattered across the floor. Benny was lying on his stomach clutching a green plastic figure in each of his small hands, making "pew! pew!" noises as he had them feign shooting each other.

"Benny," Emily said, smiling at him, "would you mind picking up the toys you aren't playing with so no one steps on them?"

The four year-old sighed and sat up. He started off strong, scurrying around on his hands and knees picking up a couple army men and a plastic fish, then paused to study a miniature race car. Within seconds he was zooming it down the wooden floor of the dim hall and chasing it out of sight.

Emily sighed and nudged the remaining toys out of the way with her foot, then gestured for me to take a seat on the couch. I moved a couple of picture books off of the cushion before sitting.

"So," I began, trying to make small talk, "you're stuck babysitting?"

"Well," Emily replied, her chuckle sounding forced, "I wouldn't say stuck. It's always a pleasure to have him here."

"Right."

We watched as Benny ran back into the room, his energy never faltering. "Aunt Emmy," he said, tugging on Emily's sleeve, "I wanna watch a movie."

"Okay," she agreed, rising slowly from a cushioned chair.

Benny dragged her over to a cabinet on the far side of the wall. Emily opened the high magnetic doors, revealing an impressive movie collection. I gasped. The cabinet housed pretty much every Disney movie ever made! She took out a few DVD cases from the front of the stacks and laid them out for Benny to choose from.

After a moment of careful consideration, he pointed to the case for Pixar's Brave, one of my favorites.

"Are you sure, Sweetheart?" Emily asked, chuckling, "This is usually a little too scary for you."

"I'll be okay."

She nodded and moved to put the disc into the DVD player. Benny wandered over to me and explained, "She has to put it in for me 'eetus I'm too little to do it all by myself."

"I see."

After Emily had skipped over the previews at the boy's request, she beckoned for me to follow her into the other room.

"Now," she said when we had reached the good-sized kitchen, "what did you want to talk about?"

I hesitated, feeling very foolish. With all the excitement of a rambunctious four year-old, I had forgotten all about my predicament.

"I'm nervous about tomorrow. I don't even know how to begin working that scene!"

Emily nodded thoughtfully, a look of understanding passing over her delicate features. "Can you point out a single problem?"

I thought for a moment. "How about the way Giselle's supposed to say, well, pretty much anything? Is she sarcastic, sad, angry?"

"Well," Emily said slowly, "when you read it, how do you think she's saying it? If you find yourself reading her lines angrily, she's probably angry."

"I've tried that," I moaned. "I must have read through the script about a million times."

"Hmm," Emily bit her lip, as if unsure whether she wanted to say what was on her mind, "Who does Giselle remind you of?"

I looked at her for a moment. "Is that rhetorical?"

"Seriously, who does she bring to mind?"

I thought for a moment. "Me?" I finally guessed, not sure what she was getting at.

"Um," Emily frowned, "anyone else?"

"I don't know!" I said, growing annoyed. "She doesn't really remind me of anyone."

"Maybe this will help explain better," Emily began. "My character reminds me a lot of my cousin Susan--obnoxious, temperamental, and self righteous. She always has. So, whenever I'm stuck and don't know how Morgan would act in a situation, I stop and ask myself, 'what would Susan do? How would she react?' Understand?"

"I think so."

"Great. Now, I'll ask again: who does Giselle remind you of?"

I thought for a long time. Finally the face of Abby McAllister flashed into my mind. Abby had been this annoying, whiny girl back in first grade that always had to have things her way. I'd hated her. She fit my character perfectly.

"I got someone."

"Wonderful," Emily said, "now say your lines like she would say them."

I took a deep breath and repeated the words in my best impression of Abby. When I had finished I looked up at Emily with pride.

"I did it!"

Emily clapped her hands. "Great job! Now, take that and dial it down a bit."

My elation immediately ceased, replaced with hurt. "Why?"

"It's not that you were bad," she said quickly, "you just need to balance out your alter egos. If you become all this other person, you lose yourself--the most important aspect of your character's existence."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay."

"Do it again."

I began my repetition of the lines without enthusiasm, annoyed at what Emily was making me do. About halfway through the first sentence she held up her hand.

"You're not taking this seriously."

I sighed, covering my face with my hands, fighting the urge to blow up. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired."

At that moment there was a loud roaring sound from the TV in the other room and a scream from Benny. He ran into the kitchen.

"You okay?" Emily asked him, her mouth curling into a wry smile.

Benny slowed his pace to a leisurely walk, trying to appear casual. "I'm kinda tired of that movie."

Emily chuckled in reply. "Rosie," she then said, turning back to me, "just sleep on it. You'll be able to function better after a good night's rest."

I nodded.

At Benny's request, Emily went in and changed the movie. I waited in the kitchen for her.

"Emily," I said when she sat back down at the table, "do you enjoy babysitting?"

She shrugged. "I don't mind."

I nodded and continued, trying to make small talk. "How long will you be watching him?"

Emily shrugged again. "Depends. Could be days, could be months." She then looked at me with wide eyes, as if she had just revealed some very sensitive information.

I gaped back at her. "You said he could be here months? Why?"

"It's really complicated," She suddenly looked uncomfortable. "It's really not my business to discuss."

"I mean, you're the one who's watching him so long,"

"Still," she sighed, "it's complicated."

"Well," I said, trying to be gentle in my pressing efforts, "why is it so complicated?"

"Have you seen the new Beauty and the Beast?" she asked in a pathetic attempt to change the subject, "Benny's watching it now, if you'd--"

"Emily," I said, realizing how risky my words were only after I had said them, "is it 'just don't want to take the time to talk about it' complicated or 'dead baby' complicated?"

Emily blanched. I gasped at the surge of fire in her eyes that flickered out almost too fast to see.

"It's not my business to discuss!" she repeated, "And I don't want to."

"So pretty complicated," I muttered.

Emily sighed. "Benny's father...Benny's father is a bad man.  He's arrogant, and selfish, and cruel. Liz met him when she was twenty-three, and was instantly charmed by his handsomeness and flare. Of course his insane amount of wealth sealed the deal, too. He could do no wrong in her mind, even though in the eyes of everyone else he was a mess."

Emily walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out two cans of lime soda, then returned to her seat.

"He didn't even have the decency to keep his games a secret! They would go to a party together and he would flirt with the closest girl in sight the moment her back was turned. Liz let him ruin a lot of her closest relationships over that."

She sighed. "One evening we were at a Christmas party for one of our friends and he came on to me. I asked him how he could do this to Liz, and he just laughed and said she wouldn't believe me over him."

I gasped much harder than I meant to at that.

"Of course Liz chose that moment to walk over," Emily continued. "It was awful. She demanded to know what was going on and, before I could even open my mouth, Matt was spinning some tale about how I had approached him and he had merely been bravely fighting me off to defend the honor of his fair girlfriend. Guess who she believed?"

"She honestly didn't believe you?" I exclaimed, "She chose some random creep over her best friend?"

Emily shrugged. "Liz made a huge deal of it, calling me a traitor and a--well, you get the idea. That was a huge blow to our friendship. One that I don't think was ever really recovered from.

"A few short weeks later, he proposed to her. Of course, everyone who had ever cared about her warned against it, but, when her mother refused to bless the marriage, they eloped."

I felt really bad for spewing my soda across the table at this.

"What?" I exclaimed.

Emily nodded solemnly. "It broke poor Nancy's heart. Her only child. When they returned from an expensive honeymoon in the Bahamas she was a different person.

"It hurt. A lot. She kept mostly to herself and her credit cards during that month and a half of bliss. Never returned calls, never went out with her friends. He really had a hold on her."

Emily's eyes were filled with sudden pain. "Then one day in early March she comes knocking at my door. I was surprised to see her. She hadn't spoken to me since Matt told her I had been the one messing around. She came in and told me she was pregnant, but," she bit her lip, "but Matt hadn't taken the news too well."

I frowned, sure I wouldn't like where this story was headed.

"He didn't say a word after she told him, just got in the car and drove away. He returned that evening to get his things and hadn't been seen since. Poor Liz refused to believe he was gone. She just knew he would come to his senses soon and come back ready to be the dad of her dreams. That never happened.

"She moved back in with her mom, but nothing felt right. She spent the coming months sad and alone. Nothing anyone said or did could make her feel better.

"I," Emily sighed, looking down at her hands, which were clasped together so tightly her already pale skin turned white, "I tried to offer my assistance as much as possible, but it was hard. I didn't think it was fair that Liz, who through her own stupidity was bringing a child into a broken home could have a baby when I...when I couldn't."

She drew a shaky breath, taking more than a moment to compose herself, "I tried the best I could, and, somewhere along the line I re-earned the privilege of being Liz's best friend. When Benny was born she named me the godmother," Emily then chuckled softly. "We always said that when we grew up we'd name our first kids after each other. Of course, I chose Elizabeth."

"Oh," I said, "Benjamin. I get where Emily fits in."

"Uh, uh," Emily said, wagging her finger at me, "Benjamin Emil."

"I see," I teased, "that might work if your name was Amelia."

"Ha ha," she said. "Anyway, when Benny was about eighteen months old, Matt suddenly rushed back into the picture, demanding full custody of his son."

"What!" I exclaimed, "But he'd given Benny up!"

Emily nodded sorrowfully. "Naturally Liz refused. Matt swore he'd be back, and, sure enough, he gathered the best attorneys money can buy and took her to court. It's been three years, and they're still going at it."

"That's awful," I said. "Surely they can't do anything, not really."

"No, Matt will probably never get him," Emily slumped against the polished wooden chair, "but that won't stop him from getting what he wants."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think Matt cares whether he gains custody over his son--or if he even wants to. His main objective is making sure Liz can't have him either."

A lump was forming in the pit of my stomach. "How can he do that?"

"Matthew Flores is very powerful, and very wealthy. He can pay to keep this game going as long as he wants, and he will play a huge role in its outcome. No judge would be able to sleep at night knowing that he gave an innocent kid to an obviously negligent parent, but that doesn't mean he'll think twice about turning a blind eye away from the foster system."

"But what does that have to do with you?" I wanted to stop talking about this.

To my surprise Emily smiled, despite her difficult story. "Sometimes a judge is bribed enough to declare Liz's home unfit for Benny to stay, especially during heated points in the case. When this happens he is sent to a 'third party individual'."

"You?" I guessed.

She laughed, "Well, I am his godmother." Her eyes held a far away look as she continued, "It truly is a pleasure to have him here. Things get so lonely when it's just me and Steve."

"But who takes care of him?" I questioned, "I mean, you both work."

"During Benny's stays Steve tries to work his schedule around him, bless him," Emily smiled. "He usually tries to take the night shift, then stays with him during the day."

"Aunt Emmy!" Benny called from the other room, "The movie's scratched!"

Emily closed her eyes for a second, opening them again when he poked his head in from the doorway. "I'm sure it's okay. The DVD player is probably tired from all the work you keep asking it to do. Why don't we give it a break?"

Benny nodded, then came over to sit on her lap. She hugged her arms around him, resting her cheek against the top of his head. Benny watched me curiously.

"Aunt Emmy," he asked, "who's she?"

Emily looked up at me. "This is my friend Rosie. She works with me and your mommy."

"Oh." He continued to watch me as Emily gently pushed him off of her and stood up.

"I think it's about time to be making supper," She then turned to me with a kind smile. "Would you like to stay, Rosie?"

I nodded a little too eagerly. "If you don't mind," I then said in hopes of not making myself look too desperate.

I stayed at the table while Emily moved to the cupboards and began pulling out various ingredients for spaghetti, refusing my help several times.

"It will be quick. Doesn't really require more than one person."

Benny stood with her at the stove watching the noodles boil, one bony arm around her tiny waist. He got to help pour a few spices into the creamy sauce, but mostly just taste-tested.

About ten minutes later, Benny proudly presented me with a plate of steaming noodles.

"It's good," he guaranteed. "Aunt Emmy's the bestest cook ever!"

"I believe you," I said, smiling as I accepted the plate.

Emily caught my eye and shook her head modestly. "It's one of only three dishes I can make."

I took a bite. "Wow!"

The long noodles were cooked to perfection, complimented masterfully by the rich sauce. Instead of the usual meatballs, yellow squash and zucchini served as compliments, but they weren't nearly as strange a combination as I thought they would be.

"Are you vegetarian?" I asked in regard to the vegetables.

She shook her head. "Not usually. My diet varies frequently, and this time meat is off the menu."

"Yeah!" Benny piped up, "She can't have cookies either! Or even candy!"

"Wow," I said, the sudden memory of the candy fiasco that time I visited her in the hospital returning in full force.

Emily smiled and shook her head. "All the important things."

"How come?" I asked around another bite of spaghetti.

She looked suddenly uncomfortable. "I have digestion problems. What I can and can't handle always seems to be changing."

"She's sick," Benny informed me, looking up from the plate of noodles Emily was cutting for him. "But don't worry, you can't catch it."

Emily blushed, biting her lower lip. "Yep."

"She has Cys--Cysmic fibrosis," he continued, over-pronouncing the words. "It means she has yucky stuff in her lungs that makes it so she can't breathe, and sometimes Uncle Steve has to hit her back really hard so she doesn't die."

"Thank you, Benny," Emily said quickly. "This isn't really a good topic for dinnertime."

"It's true, though," he told me.

"I believe you."

"Benny," Emily said by way of changing the subject, "what did you do today?"

"Oh!" Benny's face lit up, "Me and Uncle Steve went to the zoo!"

"Really?" she asked, intrigued.

"Yeah! We saw bears and monkeys, and lions! Roar!"

Emily gasped in pretended fear. "Big lions?"

"The biggest ever!" Benny exclaimed.

"How many?"

"A whole family! The guy in charge said a lion family is called a 'pride'. It was so cool!"

Emily smiled lovingly at him.

"We took pictures!" Benny went on, "They're on Uncle Steve's phone. We got a bunch of the big, daddy lion! He was so scary, but cool."

"Ooh," Emily said, "we'll have to get him to send them to us."

Benny nodded emphatically.

"Do you like the zoo?" I asked him.

"Yeah!" he practically shouted, "It's my second favorite place ever!"

"Where's your first?" Emily questioned, chuckling.

"Your house!" he cried, throwing his tomatoey hands around her.

"My house?" Emily's breath was short from the force of the sudden hug.

"Yeah! I love it here!"

Emily shook her head like she didn't believe him, and turned the conversation back to the zoo. "We'll have to all go together sometime."

He turned to me. "Have you ever been to the zoo...what's her name?" he then whispered to Emily.

"Rosie," she said softly.

"Have you ever been to the zoo, Wosie?" he questioned, his childish letter mispronunciation bringing a smile to my face, which quickly diminished.

"Never."

Benny gasped like he had never heard anything so shocking before, and turned to Emily with wide eyes. "She's never been to the zoo, Aunt Emmy! How come you've never been to the zoo?" he then demanded.

I shrugged, unsure what to say.

"There are plenty of people who've never been to the zoo," Emily said, saving me, "why don't invite her along the next time you go if you're so worried about her."

Benny continued to frown at me, pity in his eyes. I felt awkward, realizing how much childhood I had missed out on. I'd never had money for the zoo, not even enough to go there on school trips. I didn't think the boy would understand that.

Emily and I ate in silence, listening absently to Benny chatter on about the other animals he'd seen, and then the toy he'd gotten in his Kid's Meal for lunch. ("You press a button on the top of the guy's head and a dart shoots out! Wanna see?")

After the meal was finished, and I had stalled as long as possible, I made my way to the door.

"Bye!" Benny shouted after me, too preoccupied with the dart launcher toy to care much about my leaving.

"Thank you for coming," Emily said, walking me to the door. "I hope that advice helped."

"Wha--oh," I responded, the memory of her help lost in the evening's other events, "yeah. Thanks a lot."

She smiled. "No problem. I was happy to help."

Returning her smile, I stepped into the fading twilight.