Sweet Girl

Never Break The Chain

Three months later

Christine tosses an arm around Stevie's neck as they stand in her backyard, Stevie clad in a long black dress, watching Vivian play with Ella. Everyone they know is there to celebrate their wedding, which happened a week ago. They flew to Massachusetts with Ella and Karen, eloping for a private legal ceremony. Rather than have another, they opted for a backyard barbecue with all their family and friends. Stevie looks on, concentrating on the silk scarf covering Vivian's head. They did shave her hair, and now without the chemo it's growing back in thick, dark auburn curls. Vivian hates it, but Stevie thinks it's adorable.

"You happy?" Christine asks casually as she pulls Stevie in by her neck, pecking her on the cheek.

"Beyond," Stevie smiles and stretches out her hand, a thick Diamond and platinum band on her left ring finger.

"Only other person to buy you a Diamond," Christine laughs and shakes her head, "mine is better."

"Oh stop it," Stevie laughs as she rests a hand against Christine's stomach, "thank you for coming. I really wanted you to meet her."

"I know," Christine nods, "she's spectacular, love. I couldn't have picked someone better myself for you. You deserve it. Lindsey behaving?"

"Oh, he's fine," Stevie shrugs, "I'm certain he doesn't love the idea, but he's here, you know. He likes her. Wouldn't matter if he didn't, but he does."

Christine pauses for a moment, arm still around Stevie, then breathes out a puff of air. "How much longer do you have with her, Steve?"

Stevie bites down hard on her bottom lip as she rests her head against Christine's shoulder. "A year, maybe. Could be more, could be less. The tumor isn't growing at the moment, which they think is in part because of radiation. She's considering restarting that without the chemo, if it'll buy some time. We have more appointments coming up. We're flying to John's Hopkins next week after we wrap filming for the documentary. Karen is taking Ella to Hawaii, and then we'll meet them there. See what they have to say as a last ditch effort."

Christine can feel the weight of it in her soul; Stevie has never simultaneously seemed so light and dark at once. Usually she is all one or the other depending on her mood and current state of heartbreak. This is different. "Worth it, if you think they can help," Christine shrugs, "how long will you be in Hawaii?"

"Three weeks, unless something changes with her treatment." Stevie watches as Ella collapses against her mom in a fit of laughter, Jessi and Lori sitting next to them in the grass. "I want Ella to have memories of Vivian there. I want it to be special."

"It was always your refuge," Christine smiles down at her, "whenever little Stevie ran, we always knew where to find her." She doesn't bother to mention anything else in detail - especially not the fact that it's where Stevie hid for a long time after her best friend died.

"Ella is so excited," Stevie beams, "she wants to swim with dolphins. And turtles. We have a full itinerary of collecting sea shells, playing in the water, night swims - Vivian and I both might die of exhaustion, actually."

"Pawn her off on Karen and take a nap once a day," Christine laughs, then pauses as she looks at the side of Stevie's face, "you look good as a Mum, love. You're doing a splendid job of it. Really."

"I'm trying," Stevie nods sheepishly, and Christine can still see that sweet, kind twenty something girl who used to lie in her lap and sob over Lindsey in the middle of the night. How things have changed.

"You're doing one better than trying," Christine smiles and points at Ella, who's up on her feet, giggling and flailing as she runs toward Stevie head on and crashes into her thighs, wrapping herself around her.