"What was she like?" Luna asked her aunt from the kitchen table.

Blaire continued to clean as if she hadn't heard, much to Luna's dismay. Outside, the two heard the roar of the soldiers' trucks. Now that night was nearing, the soldiers were doubling and tripling outside. Voices lowered. Dogs barked at the trucks to no avail. Luna coughed to try to pull her aunt's attention away from planning for another long night.

"Did you know my mother?"

"Well, of course, I did. What gets you asking about her?" Blaire said as she went to work washing off the dining room table.

"Well, Ingrid's mother had said some things about her. She said she isn't as bad as people say she is."

"Well, Lydia doesn't know what she's talking about." Then, after a slight pause, "If your mother wanted to be here, she knows where to find us."

"What do you mean? What mother doesn't want her own babies?"

"That's what I said. But, once Elias was born, your mother just went crazy. She was mean to you guys and your daddy didn't want you guys in that environment."

"Sometimes, I see her in my dreams," Luna murmured.

Her father's truck pulling up quieted her. Blaire hinted that her niece should go clean her room, and Luna went up the stairs just as David got into the house. He planted a kiss on his sister's cheek and sat down. They spoke candidly for about half an hour before Blaire confessed what happened.

"Did you tell her everything?"

"Of course not, but she's smart..."

"I knew one of them would want to know her. I just can't handle seeing her again after everything she did to us."

"I understand," Blaire said. "Luna will too."

"Luna is her mother's child. I've seen how she treats the boys-"

"Stop that! She is not Kassidy."

"Blaire, you can't tell me you don't see it. I mean, she broke Charlie's nose last week because he tried to take one of her fries."

"David--"

"No! You know what I had to put up with. I don't want my daughter even asking about that woman. I still have scars. So do they. I don't want to put that energy back in this house."

Any point Blaire was going to make was shut down by her brother sobbing. She tried to console him, too softly for Luna to hear from the steps. She hadn't noticed the tears either until one fell on her leg, right above a splotchy scar. Deciding never to make her father cry again, she pushed her mother from her mind and went down the stairs to give her father a hug.

I walked with my wife down the boardwalk by the river. After thirty years, we can bask in the comfort of the quiet of just enjoying each other's company. "Hey, hon?" she asks. "Hmm?" I respond, watching a flock of birds fly overhead. I hear her hesitation, "Who was Billy?" My world grinds to a halt at this seemingly innocent question. How did she know? How long has she known? Why ask me now? My mind is flooded with memories of that day.

Billy and I were walking down this same boardwalk over forty years ago. We laughed and playfully punched one another, just enjoying the summer sunshine. Billy pointed to a group of girls coming the opposite direct, "I bet you can't get that girl's number." I laugh, "Nice try. I fell for that last time. She was your cousin, and you paid her to embarrass me like that at the mall." Billy shook his head vigorously, "No, I mean it! She's really cute. Maybe you guys will click like my parents did." "What do you mean," I ask. Billy started in on his story.

Twenty years ago on this same boardwalk, Billy's parents had met for the first time. They locked eyes and immediately knew they were meant to be together. Of course, it would take them another five years to admit to one another how much they liked each other. You never admit to your crush how much you like them! His parents had kissed each other, and as they pulled away, Billy's mother had asked, "What changed you mind?" Billy's father hugged her close, "Do you remember me telling you about my grandfather?"

Fifty years ago, Billy's father's grandfather was fishing with a buddy of his on the shore that would one day be the boardwalk. There were no busy streets or bustling folk, so the area was nice and peaceful for an afternoon of fishing. His friend turned to him, "You know what. I have an idea." Billy's father's grandfather rolled his eyes, "Oh, yeah? What is it?" His friend told him, "I think we should make some kind of walkway here so that we don't have to sit in the dirt." Billy's father's grandfather laughed, "Why? That's just going to encourage people to come out here. Soon, you'll have a bunch of crap stories about people falling in love or remembering old times. Nobody like those stories."