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All of this was said under her breath; Stacy Haverlin did not know about her father's criminal background.

"We were just too young and too stupid," Missy whispered.

Outside, both Missy and Patrick hemmed and hawed, trying to think of more things to say. Finally, Patrick admitted he really needed to go they had a puppy at home that was probably about to bust.

"But uh, next weekend? Not this one but next?" Patrick said.

Both girls immediately whooped over the idea of going to the Lowridge Water Park. Missy smiled and accused Patrick of only wanting to see her in a swimsuit. With a blush and smile, Patrick agreed that his motives were not entirely innocent.

Again, the weekend without his girl was a dismal one. And Marco's mommy was only too delighted to tell Patrick what had happened to his neighbor, Simone. Patrick fixed the gloating woman with a hard stare.

"Ma'am? I don't know if you believe in God or not," Patrick finally said.

"What? Of course I believe in..." the woman sniffed.

"Really? Behaving like that? Over the misfortune of another one of God's children? I hope your god is much more compassionate than you are," Patrick said, picking up Upton's deposit.

On Wednesday, Patrick smiled as he entered the After School Activities room. As usual, Stacy and Stacy were together. Stacy Burke was helping Stacy Haverlin with her homework, matching the letter to the illustration.

"So, does the hat start with a j? Or and h?" Stacy asked.

They waited for Stacy's mom to come. When Missy did enter the room, the two adults smiled at each other. Patrick again reminded Missy about the Water Park and she readily agreed.

"You just want to see me in a bathing suit," she whispered as the two girls ran ahead out of the school building.

"Well of course I do," Patrick agreed, giving her small hand an affectionate squeeze before she turned left to her car.

"Momma's moving," Stacy announced from her safety seat in the rear of Patrick's car.

"She's what?" Patrick asked, fighting hard not to overreact to the sudden declaration.

"Her boss is moving to the Norwill office so she's moving to Tennessee and says I'll have a whole new school and everything," Stacy continued.

"Hmm? And when is she moving?" Patrick asked, amazed at his own restraint.

"I don't know; she's packing everything; I couldn't even find my shoes this morning," Stacy said.

Patrick and Stacy walked Upton the moment they got to the apartment. Because he was in an urgent hurry, Upton took longer than usual to do her business. Plopping Stacy in front of the television, Patrick stepped out of his apartment and left a message on Andrew Walker's voice mail, then left a message on Victoria Baker's voice mail. The answering service at Ann Richards took the message that Stacy Burke would not be in school the following day, possibly Friday either due to a family emergency.

Twyla was enraged when she received the summons to appear in Judge David Glasspool's court. She was further enraged when she was informed that, because she and Patrick had agreed to joint custody while they waited for their decree of divorce, she could not take Stacy out of the state without Patrick's express consent.

"I am that child's mother," Twyla hissed, glaring hatefully at Judge Glasspool. "You have no right..."

"And that's where you are wrong, Mrs. Burke," Judge Glasspool said. "Yes, you are the mother, but that child has two parents and each parent has equal rights when it comes to the welfare of that child."

The water park was fun. And, even though it was a one-piece bathing suit, Missy looked very sexy in her bathing suit. The thighs were cut high, giving her compact backside some definition. Her breasts were mere swells, but at four feet, five inches, anything larger would have looked out of place.

After the water park, they went to Lin Cho's Chinese restaurant. They ordered beef and broccoli, sweet and sour pork and chicken with snow peas.

"Don't worry," Patrick told Missy. "The beef and broccoli is a grown-up dish; they won't want any of it."

"Uh huh!" Stacy Haverlin argued.

"But it's got broccoli in it," Patrick said. "Only big people like broccoli."

"Nuh uh," Stacy Haverlin argued.

"Growing up, Patrick's family had lived next door to the Huang family. Mr. and Mrs. Huang spoke no English and of course the Burke family spoke no Cantonese. But Dan Burke insisted that they make every effort to help their neighbors.

One of the few words Huang Gao learned was 'Friend!' and he said it often when his path crossed with Dan, Peggy, and Patrick Burke. He and his wife and their three boys had the Burke family over for dinner at least once a month. And Peggy had the family over at least once a month for authentic American cuisine; usually spaghetti sauce out of a jar. So, Patrick learned how to eat with chopsticks.

The two girls thrilled in learning to eat with the long wooden utensils. Missy tried valiantly for a few moments.

"Patwick, I'm starving!" Missy laughed and picked up her fork.

"No, no, Momma, look! It's easy," Stacy insisted, showing her mother she was managing to pick up the broccoli just fine.

At the Haverlin trailer, Missy invited them in; she had a chocolate ice box pie and she and Patrick could have coffee while the girls had milk.

"I'm not sure if Stace-face even likes chocolate ice box pie," Patrick teased.

"I want to be Stace-face," Stacy Haverlin whined while Stacy Burke insisted she loved, loved, loved chocolate pie; chocolate pie was her all-time favorite, there was no better pie than chocolate pie.

"Okay," Patrick said, admiring the small, comfortable trailer. "You can be Stace-face."

"Aw! Then what I'm going be?" Stacy Burke complained.

"You? You're going to be scuba-duba," Patrick said.

"Scuba-duba!" both girls squealed.

"Stacy," Missy said as she filled the coffee pot. "Stacy's aweady Stace-face."

"Well, hmm. So, Stacy, what's your middle name?" Patrick asked.

"Um, Stacy June," Stacy Haverlin said.

"So...We could call you um..." Patrick thought.

"June moon?" Missy suggested.

"June moon!" Stacy and Stacy squealed in disgust.

"Stacy J?" Patrick suggested. "Aw yeah, Stacy J, getting' Diggy with it."

"Yeah!" Stacy Haverlin agreed enthusiastically.

"Dad," Stace-face shook her head, letting her father know he was not cool.

"Stacy J; getting' Diggy with it," Stacy J whooped.

"So I'm Stacy M?" Stacy asked while Stacy J did a silly little dance.

"No, you're still Stace-face," Missy smiled.

"So, what's Momma's new name going be?" Stacy J asked.

"Her?" Patrick smiled.

"You be nice, Mr. Patwick," Missy warned, getting the ice box pie out of her refrigerator.

"Her? Missy Sippy," Patrick teased.

"Missy Sippy?" Stace-face and Stacy J squealed.

"Mississippi, huh? Cute, Weal cute," Missy said and cut a very small piece of the pie for Patrick. "There. That's all you get."

After they'd eaten, Patrick receiving a second slightly larger piece, Stacy and Stacy went to Stacy J's room. Missy pulled Patrick to the couch. Their first kiss was a soft kiss. Their second kiss was an open-mouthed kiss. For their third kiss, Missy wiggled onto Patrick's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Reluctantly, Patrick had to bring the day to an end. They had a needy, annoying animal at home. And truthfully, both girls had looked fairly tired; the noise level coming from Stacy's room was diminishing quickly.

"Good night," Missy agreed as Patrick herded his tired Stace-face to the door.

"Good night," Patrick agreed and bent for another kiss.

"Um!" Stacy J gasped, seeing the two adults kiss.

Patrick smiled as he heard two squeals when the door of the trailer closed. Stace-face gave her father a little teasing as he unlocked the car.

Stacy was sound asleep by the time they reached the apartment. She was getting a little too big to carry so Patrick reluctantly woke her for the trek from parking lot to apartment.

At the divorce hearing, Twyla admitted that she still planned to move to Norwill, Tennessee, to work in the Norwill office. The ruling that Stacy would remain in the house until she reached the age of majority did not sit well with Twyla. She wanted the house sold and the proceeds split sixty five-thirty five, in her favor; after all, it had been Patrick who filed for divorce. Furthermore, she wanted full custody of Stacy Margaret Burke with Patrick Burke having limited visitation with their daughter.

Judge Lisa Webb slammed her gavel down, ending their marriage. The gavel also ended Twyla's long list of demands, all of which were denied by Judge Webb.

"Best of luck in your future endeavors," Patrick muttered behind his ex-wife's back.

He had not missed the looks Twyla and Carl Holder, her immediate supervisor had been sharing during the proceedings. Patrick knew their relationship was far too close, too familiar for just supervisor-subordinate. Victoria Baker, his immediate supervisor was not there in the courthouse with him. Katherine Winslow, the head of their department was not sitting next to him as they sat in front of Judge Lisa Webb.

Two days later, the first indication that something was wrong, seriously wrong was when Patrick received a telephone call that his house was on fire. Douglas East, the retired gentleman that lived two houses down called Patrick to let him know the home was ablaze and the three fire trucks didn't seem to be making any headway fighting the inferno.

Calling Stacy's school confirmed Patrick's worst fears; Stacy had not been in school that day.

Patrick called his attorney who told him to hang up and call the police. Patrick called the Oakleaf County Sheriff's Office and filed a complaint of kidnapping. He gave them Twyla's automobile's make, model and year and license plate number. He was also able to give them the likely destination of Twyla and Stacy Burke.

While Patrick was scrambling through the myriad of telephone calls, a Toyota Highlander was travelling a long stretch of empty Texas highway. Stacy Burke did not like the car; it smelled bad. Carl Holder was a smoker and smoked Benson & Hedges Menthol cigarettes in his car. She also did not like missing school that day; she had a History test and had studied real hard for the test.

"So, we're going to play a game," Twyla said as she drove four miles above the speed limit.

She giggled to herself; if Patrick thought he was going have the house, the little device she'd put under the bed in the spare bedroom would take care of that. She'd set the timer to go off at eleven o'clock tonight; by the time anyone smelled any smoke she and Denice Holder would be far away. Twyla had failed to notice the AM and PM markers on the timer though.

"A game?" Stacy asked.

"Mm hmm. We're going to give you a new name," Twyla sang out. "Hmm, how does Cinderella sound?"

"Cinderella?" Stacy said. "Momma, that's silly!"

"Um, Rapunzel? You've got that long hair? Oh! Hey, don't you think you would look so pretty with long red hair?" Twyla suggested.

"Mooooom!" Stacy said. "No! Not Rapunzel."

"Denise? Denise! Yes, yes, you look just like a Denise!" Twyla declared.

While Twyla was driving in a north-east direction, Carl was driving due east on I-10. He had the window down, blowing cigarette smoke out the window. If Twyla thought he'd be able to drive almost eleven hundred miles and not smoke, she was crazy.

"No, no, not Twyla. Amelia," Carl reminded himself as he threw the butt out of the window. "Amelia and Denise. Holder."

Carl raised the window and cursed Twyla's lack of satellite radio in her car. He wanted his Johnny Cash and Jerry Jeff Walker and Waylon Jennings, not this schlock that passed for country music today. Yeah, Carrie Underwood was a real cutie, but her music? That just wasn't country.

"Shit!" Carl hissed as an unmarked car suddenly hit its siren and the front grill lit up with a blue and white strobe.

While Carl was waiting in a holding cell for his lawyer to come, Twyla asked Stacy, "So, what's your name?"

"Momma, it's Stacy," Stacy insisted. "Stacy Mar..."

"No, no, no, remember? It's Denise," Twyla insisted, beginning to lose patience.

"Denise Ann Holder," Stacy wearily said.

Approaching Lowenburg, Arkansas, Twyla decided they'd put enough distance between themselves and Texas. A quick check of the dashboard clock made Twyla smile; in two and a half hours, Patrick's precious little home would be nothing but ashes. She saw the sign for the Lowenburg Home Comfort Inn and put on her turn signal.

"Now, remember, your name is Denise. Denise Holder," Twyla reminded Stacy as she roused the girl from an uncomfortable slumber.

"Yes ma'am?" the Latino man smiled as the two weary travelers entered the lobby of the Home Comfort Inn.

"Hi, yes, I need a room for..." Twyla said.

"I'm being kidnapped," Stacy loudly proclaimed. "There's an injunction saying she's not supposed take me out of Texas."

"Denise! That's not true," Twyla said, trying to laugh off the child's statement.

"And my name's not Denise," Stacy yelled. "My name's Stacy Margaret Burke."

"This true?" the clerk asked Stacy.

"No. It's not true. Never mind, we're leaving," Twyla snarled, grabbing Stacy's upper arm in a fierce grip.

"Me esposa, me wife and some hombre; they take me son," the Latino hissed, his.38 pointed at Twyla's head. "Ten year, for ten year I no see me only son."

He kept the gun trained on the woman as he reached over to press the button for an outside line on the motel's telephone system. Twyla, looking into the barrel of a pistol and the hate-filled eyes of the motel clerk knew she'd reached the end of her flight.

"Nine one one, what is your emergency?" a woman's voice asked.

"Yes, I have a little girl here say she being kidnapped," the man said.

**..**..**

"My name's Simone and I'm, I'm, I'm..." Simone Hozarski tried to say but broke down in deep racking sobs.

"It's all right. It's all right," a woman patted Simone's shoulder. "Sugar, we all been right where you are; it's all right."

After the van returned to Alliance Square Health Facility, the nine men and six women entered the DeTox Clinic and sat in their usual circle.

"So, Simone, why do you think you had such a hard time admitting that you're an alcoholic?" Terri Perry asked.

"I don't know," the blonde whispered, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

"Is it because if you admitted it, then you wouldn't be able to go back to it? If you admitted that you are powerless over alcohol then you won't be able to justify getting your next drink?" Terri insisted.

"I don't know," Simone repeated.

"Simone," Terri said.

"I don't know, all right? I don't know!" Simone screamed.

"Yes you do," Terri insisted. "Yes, you do know." "And until you can get honest..."

"I don't know! I don't know! And I don't fucking care," Simone bellowed at the top of her lungs.

**..**..**

Theresa White, Twyla's attorney suggested that Twyla accept a plea bargain. Carl Holder, Twyla's supervisor and lover had accepted a plea and had offered to turn state's evidence against Twyla in the kidnapping scheme.

"And there's the matter of the arson..." Theresa reminded Twyla.

Twyla insisted on a jury trial, though. Twyla knew she could convince any mother on the jury that she had the right to bring her own daughter with her. And, any male on the jury, Twyla was sure they'd be putty in her hands. A playful smile, a little toss of her long blonde hair; they'd be fighting amongst themselves to acquit her.

"Told you," Theresa said, no sympathy in her voice when Twyla was found guilty on all twelve counts.

"Should have taken the plea," Theresa said when Twyla was sentenced to no less than twenty years in Usessa Women's Penitentiary in Wakilluh,, Texas.

**..**..**

"Missy Sippy!" Stacy J crowed as her mother entered the After School Activities room.

"Hi, Missy Sippy," Stace-face smiled, already picking up their checkers.

"Ooh, I'm going kill that man," Missy giggled. "He's in weal twouble."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Burk," Mrs. Ortega smiled, pulling her attention from a boy that was struggling with his reading exercise.

Hearing the greeting, Missy smiled widely. Mrs. Ortega smiled, then returned her attention to the student.

Wit a wave to Mrs. Ortega, the three blondes left the room. Stacy J held her mother's hand while Stace-face walked on the other side of Missy.

"You need quit gwoing; you going be taller than me," Missy told Stace-face, smiling.

Patrick was already at the trailer, making their supper when the trio entered. Stacy J still squealed but Stace-face made gagging sounds as Patrick kissed Missy in greeting.

As they ate their dinner, Missy reminded Stace-face and Stacy J that they had dentist's appointments tomorrow afternoon. Patrick suggested he could just take a pair of pliers and pull all their teeth; problem solved.

"Moooom, make him stop," Stace-face whined.

Missy froze, fork halfway to her mouth.

"What?" Stace-face asked, seeing the odd look on Missy's face.

"What did you just call me?" Missy asked.

"Oh. Oops. Sorry," Stace-face said, blushing.

"Oh no! Oh no, don't you ever be sowwy for that," Missy demanded.

She got to her feet and scurried around the table. She squeezed Stace-face in a tight embrace.

"Don't you ever be sowwy for that? Being 'Mom' is the gweatest thing ever," Missy whispered, placing a kiss onto Stace-face's cheek.

**..**..**

The four inmates slunk into the room then slumped into the chairs. They ignored the older woman as she cheerfully asked for volunteers to read the literature. Seeing that she would get no volunteers, the woman assigned the readings to the inmates based on how well they read. The inmate that had the most difficulty reading was asked to hand out the chips.

All four of the inmates rolled their eyes when the chairperson picked 'Gratitude' as the topic for the in-house Jail AA meeting.

"Grateful get out my motherfucking cell but ain't grateful for this suck ass coffee; why the fuck we can't get no real coffee? Why it got be this shit decaf?" Rosie spat when the chairperson called on her to share.

"Simone?" The chairperson asked.

"Fuck, why I got be here? Keep telling y'all motherfuckers I ain't no God damned alcoholic," Simone spat. "Gratitude? Be grateful when y'all all just kiss my fucking ass and leave me the fuck alone, okay?"

"Five DUIs in less than fourteen months? I'd hate to see how many DUIs you would get if you were a real alcoholic," the chairperson said, staring hard at Simone.

**..**..**

"So why we here?" Stace-face asked as they were seated.

"What? Thought you liked this place?" Patrick asked as he looked over the Ling Cho menu.

"We come here on our first date," Stace-face said. "Then we come here when you two was getting married..."

"And when we was buying our house," Stacy J agreed.

"I think they're too smart for us," Missy smiled at Patrick.

"I think you're right," Patrick smiled, taking Missy's hand.

"Girls? In about six months, you're going have a baby bwother or sister," Missy announced.

"Sister," both Stacy and Stacy demanded.

"So, what do you think we should name her?" Patrick smiled as the waitress approached.

"Stacy!" both Stacy J and Stace-face demanded, laughing.

"Oh no, that's too many Stacys," Patrick insisted.

"She can be Baby Stace," Stacy J said. "Aw yeah; getting' diggy with it!"

"Not Denise, Dad?" Stace-face said, suddenly very serious. "Anything but Denise, okay?"

**..**..**

Simone came to, aware of an intense pain in her head and chest area. She couldn't see anything; she was surrounded by total blackness. But she could hear the soft 'beep-beep-beep' of a machine and could smell a chemical odor.

"Done it this time, Hozarski," she heard a male voice say in a very harsh manner.