Maria woke with a start. The birds were chirping loudly and the glare of the morning sun was exactly in her eyes.

“Shit!” she arose and rubbed her palm into her eye, still sleepy and disoriented. The events from the night before rushed back into her consciousness, and she cursed again. “Shi-it!” The smell of cooking bacon briefly distracted her. She arose out of bed, and tugged her robe around her waist. She opened her bedroom door slightly. Max was dancing around the kitchen to a song playing softly on the radio.

“Girls just wanna have fun, huh?” Liz laughed and wrapped her arms around Max’s neck as he attacked her neck with his lips. Maria opened the door, and Max released Liz rather wistfully.

“Where’s Michael?” Maria asked immediately.

“Michael?” Max’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead, and he completely turned away from breakfast. Liz intervened quickly and scooped it up onto the nearest plate.

“Michael’s not here?” Maria suddenly realized how very careless she had just been. She rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, Max…it must have been a dream.”

She sat at the kitchen table and sighed heavily. She suddenly felt like she hadn’t had any sleep at all. It occurred to her that maybe it had been a dream. Maybe Michael had never come. It didn’t explain why she’d woken up in her bed, and not the couch, but then again, maybe she’d gone straight to bed after coming home. Had Kyle stopped by? Had any of it happened at all?

“Todd has called twice this morning already, Maria,” Liz informed her earnestly. “I think he’s really worried about you or something.”

“Thanks,” Maria gulped down the pulpy orange juice Liz had set in front of her and Max handed her a plate with an omelet on it.

He quickly handed another plate to Liz. “How do you like your eggs in the morning?” he crooned. “I like mine with a kiss,” he answered himself. Liz bestowed on him a small one as she took her plate and moved to her seat across from Maria. Maria rolled her eyes, but didn’t lift her gave from her fat, yellow egg concoction.

Liz grinned and eased into her chair, sitting on her foot. Max cracked more eggs into his pan and was singing away to the next tune on the radio.

“I never knew Max was a Material Girl,” Maria said, chewing the piece of egg that was in her mouth.

“Aliens and pop songs…an intriguing combination,” Liz said, with a smart-ass waggle of her eyebrows.

“At least he doesn’t like Prince…” Maria retorted.

“Ewww…or Michael Jackson,” Liz giggled.

“Hey…do you girls hear something?”

“Someone’s knocking,” Maria offered, “I’ll get it.” She rose and slowly made her way down the hall to the front door. With every step, with every breath, with every passing moment she wished it would be Michael that would be behind that door when she opened it. She took a deep breath and swung the door open lavishly.

“Todd,” her voice broke, but she managed to give him a big smile.

“Maria?” he raised an eyebrow, and waited to be invited in. She stood in the opening of the door. “Are you okay? You haven’t answered my calls.”

“Well, Todd, it *is* only nine thirty. I had a long night.” She deliberately threw it in, hoping he’d comment on the events of the evening, to interpret whether or not she had been dreaming.

“Listen, Maria, there’s no reason to be a snot, and you’re obviously not in a very good mood, so I’m just gonna go,” Todd turned and with an almost aww-shucks movement, he lit off the top step onto the front walk. Maria didn’t even feel compelled to call after him—to redress her wrongs. She shut the door and eased her aching head into her hands. When did the sun become so bright?

Moping her way back to the kitchen, she didn’t enter, but instead, stopped at the doorway. Max had finished cooking his omelet, but it lay uneaten on his plate. He had pulled Liz into the middle of the kitchen to dance with her to a sappy love song on the radio. AND he was singing.

“Come with me, my love. To the sea—the sea of love. I wanna tell you just how much I love you…I wanna tell you, oh how much…”

Maria forced herself not to gag as she moved past the kitchen to her own bedroom. She shut the door softly, as not to disturb the happy couple. Even if romance was what she wanted, sometimes she saw so much it even made her sick. Why was everyone entitled to be happy but her?

She stepped into the shower, and undressed slowly. Even if her first encounter with Michael *had* been a dream, it sure had led to some pretty satisfyingly erotic follow-ups. She sighed when she imagined his large hands covering her breasts and kneading her—needing her.

Maria forced herself out of her erotic wonderland, convinced she was about to start humping the massaging showerhead if she wasn’t careful. She edged the knob over to cool and was accosted by exactly what she needed—a cold shower.

An hour later, she’d slipped into a lavender slip dress and cream colored hose and matching lavender shoes. She’d designed the dress herself, and dyed shoes and handbags to match most of her outfits. She gave herself a once-over in the mirror and decided she looked pretty normal for a woman who hadn’t been fucked in so long that she could be a fifty-year old mother of six or something equally crazy. It made her want to break down and cry.

She slipped out of the house and decided to walk the four blocks to her church. She entered by herself and crossed herself before slipping into the back pew. She’d embraced religion some time before, after being left for dead—or the closest to dead one could become while still breathing.

From fifty feet above her, Michael watched as Maria endured the service. He watched her take communion, and cross herself. When had she become religious? He realized with a start he knew nothing about Maria DeLuca anymore. Where did she finish school? Why had she chosen to design clothing? Did she ever get that tattoo she swore she’d never get, but always wanted? Did she ever get married, or have a serious boyfriend other than him? He was shocked as he realized Maria must have been feeling the same thing about him.

As she left the church, Michael followed a half a block behind. Even if she turned, Michael would doubt that she’d recognize him in his blue jeans, and gray shirt, and black leather jacket. Maria ambled down the sidewalk, absorbing the morning sun, and walked right past her block and down another two to the sandwich shop. She ordered what looked to be a turkey and mayo sub, and sat down at the corner booth with a book she seemingly produced from nowhere.

Michael entered the shop, and cringed when the door bell announced his arrival. To his surprise, she didn’t even look up from her…romance novel!?! Since when did Maria read… Michael shook himself and approached her carefully. He edged into the seat across from her and she didn’t even look up from her book.

“I had almost managed to convince myself it had been a dream,” she said dryly.

“Let’s talk,” he offered, or so it seemed to her. She placed her book on the table and took a deep bite of her sandwich in opposition to his suggestion.

“Okay, I’ll talk,” Michael amended. “Maybe I came on a little too strong last night…” he cringed as she choked on her sandwich.

“Strong?” she replied, with her mouth full. “Are you sure that’s the word?”

“Obnoxious,” Michael corrected, and Maria nodded in agreement. She smiled sweetly and swallowed.

“Continue,” she purred.

“I’m sorry,” Michael ducked his head and then shot a look a careful look at her.

“I know you are,” Maria sighed deeply and found she really wasn’t all that hungry at all. “But you can’t just expect things to go back to the way they were just because you’re back now. Time doesn’t stop.”

“I don’t expect things to be the same. I expect to be able to work on them, though” Michael replied.

“That’s awfully presumptuous of you. What do you suggest I do about Todd?”

“Dump him,” Michael insisted, as if it were the obvious choice.

Maria raised an eyebrow. Michael let out an exasperated sigh. “Do you love him?”

“I don’t know. I have a whole different life now—I gave up on love a long time ago. I’ve gotten used to the idea,” Maria said dryly. “But I have my job, and Todd, and I want kids, Michael.”

“But your heart hasn’t changed, right?”

“What heart?” Maria asked, frowning. “You took *everything* from me.”

“Then allow me to give it back,” Michael picked up quickly, “give me a second chance.”

“Why should I? I know you’re just going to leave again.”

“What if I was going to stay, and you knew it? Would you give me another chance?”

“What kind of guarantee could I ever get?”

“I want to marry you,” Michael finally said.

“Oh, brother,” Maria stood up and took her sandwich with her, finding the nearest trash can. Michael took off after her, and cornered her outside the sandwich shop. He grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him.

“Do you still love me?”

“I’ve never loved anyone else,” Maria finally said.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Michael warned.

“No, I guess I didn’t,” Maria noted, cocking her head.

“Maria…” Michael’s voice broke as Maria started to walk away.