For a long time, I was happy with just being an uncle. Sure, I was an uncle at a pretty young age - fourteen when Darry brought home the triplets - but that didn't mean I couldn't love those kids just as much as Soda did. I promise that I really have always loved them, even when I found out we weren't actually related. Though, I should've known in the first place. Darry would never have a one-night-stand, like he told us he did. He just hasn't ever been that kind of guy.

Anyways, it was fun having nieces and nephews cause there were all the joys of playing around, but none of the parental responsibilities. It was better that way. I still had school to study for, you know, especially when I made it to college. Admittedly, I was already pretty distracted when I went to university. See, I kinda ended up meeting my future wife during my freshman year.

I say 'kinda' because I didn't work up the nerve to talk to her until I was a sophomore. Might have admired her from afar just a little bit... Not like a stalker. Well, I hope she didn't think I was a stalker cause I only really watched her during the classes we had together.

So it was 1970 and I was a sophomore in college when I really got to know Linda Baker. We actually became friends in our creative writing class. I was taking it for fun. She wanted to be a novelist for the rest of her life. Our relationship started out as a professional one cause we would edit each other's short stories. Then, one day, I guess I was just feeling bold, so I asked her out for sodas. We started officially dating shortly after that.

We'd been together for about three months when things got serious between us. Not serious enough that we were having sex - although, I guess that at our age, the decision to wait meant more than the decision to hook up. We were definitely going steady, though. And sometimes, we would imagine our possible futures together. None of those daydreams included children. At least, not until after we'd graduated.

In late 1973, Linda and I were having lunch with Soda and Susan. They were expecting another child - their first one together - and that was all they could talk about the entire time. Linda's eyes almost glowed as she listened. At lulls in the conversation, her eyes would stray to Susan's swollen belly.

Then our lunch was finished and my brother took off with his pregnant wife, leaving me alone with my girlfriend of four years. She turned to me when she was sure that they were gone.

"Pony?" Her voice was soft as if she was ashamed of what she was saying. "Take... Take me back to the apartment. I want to have a baby..."

By the time I'd managed to get her pregnant, it was halfway through 1974. Susan had already given birth to a beautiful little boy named Ben and Linda was more excited than ever to have one of her own. We'd already picked out names, too: Paul if it was a boy and Amber if it was a girl.

Everything was going great for us until the birth actually happened. Susan was visiting us without Sodapop. I don't know why, but he was watching the triplets and Darry said the triplets and the twins had to be split up when he wasn't around. So I had Wes and Theo with me. Soda stayed home with Al and Jo. But Susan had brought Renee with her so I hoped Darry didn't mind. I watched the boys play with their toy cars in the living room, listened to the women chat about babies in the kitchen. Renee sat beside me, silent as ever.

"Why aren't you with your siblings?" I asked, turning my full attention on her.

"They're fightin' again..."

I wrapped my arm around her thin shoulders. "Hey, cheer up, kiddo! All brothers and sisters fight. Me and your daddy used to argue all the time. He even hit me once. But we're real close now. So don't worry, alright?"

"I'll try..." She lowered her gaze to the floor and scooted away from me.

I was about to say more when I heard my girlfriend cry out. In less then a second, I was on my feet, by her side, helping her into the back seat of the car. Susan tried to tell me it was a false alarm as I started up the engine. Thank God, I didn't listen.

On the ride to the hospital, she kept rambling on, explaining that she'd been having contractions since yesterday. She hadn't said anything, she hadn't wanted to worry me. I told her to relax, but it was hard to follow my own advice. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly, my knuckles strained white. I tried narrowing my focus, concentrate on the road, but I couldn't. Not with my girlfriend whimpering in the back seat.

It got worse when she started crying. She begged me to pull over. I told her that we had to keep going until we got to the hospital. Told her to wait, hold on. Barely heard her reply, "I can't..."

By the time I pulled into the parking lot, I was a father. I parked the car, stepped outside. But I was too worried to leave Linda alone so I flagged down a recently released patient. She bolted back into the hospital and, soon after, we were swarmed by doctors and nurses. The rest was kind of a blur. I remember signing the birth certificate of my newborn daughter. Everything else is foggy. I must've called Darry, though, cause I'm pretty sure he drove me and my family back to the apartment. I certainly wasn't in any state to operate a car.

Then I was just holding this kid in my arms, at home. And all my family was there - Linda, Soda and Susan, Darry and Marley, and all the nieces and nephews. I barely knew what was going on. They congratulated my girlfriend, told her how beautiful our little Amber was. Then it got real quiet. Like they were expecting something.

Darry put his hand on my shoulder. "You did good, Pone, keepin' your head on right for this. I'm proud of you."

"Yeah," Soda agreed, nodding cheerfully. "I bet I woulda crashed if it'd been me drivin'. Good thing Susie had our baby in the hospital!"

"Thanks." My throat was dry and my voice cracked a bit. I didn't rise to get myself water, though. I just sat on the couch, staring at my baby girl. She really was beautiful. And tiny. And delicate. My mind almost panicked as it tried to tell me that I wasn't ready, that I was gonna be too rough with her, hurt her. But I couldn't put her down. Wasn't she safer with me?

Two years later, there was another baby - a boy named Paul. Thankfully, this one wasn't born in the back seat of my car. No, this one was born in the relative safety of our bedroom with paramedics standing by. Poor Linda really didn't have good timing. She always thought she could go a little longer before she had to go to the hospital. She couldn't. Not that I really cared. Sure, it was a mess. But, honestly, I was more concerned that my girlfriend and my baby were okay.

And they were. Paul was extremely healthy when he was born. I can't even begin to describe how grateful I was that there wasn't anything wrong with his health. Cause sometimes I'd read about kids who were real sick and I'd worry about my own little ones.

Anyway, I married Linda a few months after Paul was born. We figured it would be better to wait until we knew that he'd behave during the wedding ceremony. Surprisingly, he didn't even make a sound. His sister, on the other hand, fidgeted her way through the entire reception.

Six years later and it's still the same deal. Amber can't sit in one place for longer than a second. She likes to explore and dance and do just about anything as long as she isn't confined to one place. It's kinda cute, actually, cause she collects mementos from all the places she's been. A snail shell from the park, a cap eraser from her classroom, a button she'd found in the road. All these things have found a home in her bedroom.

Paul's a lot like her, just quieter, more dependent on Linda and me. He collects things too - shiny things. Glass shards, sparkly fabric, jewelry. He's pretty much a crow. Linda used to leave her wedding ring on the night table when we went to bed. That all changed after she'd forgotten to put it back on in the morning and Paul had taken it for his collection. Thankfully, Amber saw it and made him give it back.

So it's just a regular Saturday afternoon. I'm sitting on the couch with Paul, waiting for Amber to come home. Last night, I'd let her sleep over at Two-Bit's house. She and Amelia are real close friends - it's nice having them spend time together. It gives me and Two-Bit an excuse to just hang out and catch up, too.

The doorbell rings. I get to my feet and answer. Two-Bit stands on the front step with Amber and Amelia. Amber doesn't look too good. She isn't smiling, she's barely making eye contact.

"Bye, Amber." Amelia gives my daughter a quick hug then trots back to Two-Bit's beat-up car, glancing back at me as she goes. "Hi, Mr. Curtis..."

I smile, wave a little bit. Then my attention returns to Amber. "Hey, sweetheart. You gonna thank Mr. Mathews for lettin' ya stay over?"

"Thank you..." She pushes past me, rushes into the house. I hear her door slam shut and I can't keep myself from giving my friend a strange look. Not that I'm accusing him of anything. I just wonder why he wouldn't call me to say that she hadn't been feeling well.

"Glory, Pony, your daughter sure is weird," he says, casually shoving his hands in his jeans pockets and leaning on the doorframe. "She was all cheery yesterday, askin' how I been doin' and stuff. Then this mornin'? Nothin'. She wouldn't even look at me."

"I'll talk to her," I reply. My eyes shift back to the side of the road where Amelia is already sitting in Two-Bit's car, seatbelt fastened. "You best get goin'. I think she's waitin' on you."

He looks confused. Then he turns and sees his daughter. "Oh, yeah. Well, be seein' ya, Pony." Gives me one last smile before he hops into the car and drives off.

When they're out of sight, I go back inside, closing the door behind me. I immediately go to Amber's room and knock until she tells me it's not locked. Honestly, I don't know what to expect. My heart is racing. So I enter slowly. And she's sitting on her bed, looking down at the Barbie and Ken dolls that she holds in her hands. I take a seat next to her. For a while, I'm silent. I want Amber to talk first, but she doesn't.

"What's botherin' you?" I ask, hoping for an answer. I hope in vain.

She only gives me a glance before her attention falls back on her dolls. "Barbie looks like JoJo, don't she?"

I nod a bit, still not sure what's going on. Joanna sometimes baby-sits for me - she really loves kids. And it's been this way since Ben came along. She used to watch him for Soda back when both Soda and Susan were working. But she hasn't been here in quite some time. Maybe Amber misses her?

"Why do ya say that?" I manage to ask.

"Dunno... Just saw her last night, is all..." She's mumbling, but before I can say anything, she looks up at me again. "Daddy, can I ask you somethin'?" When I nod, she continues. "Well... JoJo was at Amelia's house and I don't think I'm s'posed to know 'bout it cause Amelia didn't see her - I asked. Anyway, it was real late and these noises woke me up so I went to go see what they were."

I'm starting to sense where this is going. I don't like it, don't like it at all. I hope I'm wrong.

"The noises were from Mr. Mathews's room and the door was open a bit... I just took a peek, Daddy, I didn't mean to spy on 'em or nothin'. He was on her...l-like this..." She positions the Ken doll on top of Barbie, moving one of her legs up a bit so the other doll could fit between them. "But, without the clothes. What were they doing?"

Jesus Christ. I don't know what else to think, what else to say. My eyes are wide. I feel them, but I can't correct the expression. The shock is too much. Somehow, I manage to collect my thoughts enough to tell her not to play with her dolls like that. She doesn't blush, she doesn't look ashamed. Instead, her eyes are wide like mine and tears rush to fill them.

"Was he hurting her?"

"No, sweetie, of course not," I say, standing up and trying to put some space between us. I have to get away. That's the only thought in my head right now. I'm not ready to explain this to her. She's not ready to hear it! But I can't think of a way out. "Stay here, okay? I'll tell you after I do somethin' real quick."

"Okay..."

I almost run out of her room. Before my mind even registers what's happening, I have the phone in my hand. And the dial tone is droning in my ear until I hear my brother's gruff voice on the other end.

"H-hey, Dare," I reply, trying to sound cheerful for him. He sees - or hears? - right through the charade, tells me to just be honest, stop beating around the bush. So I ask, "When did you have the Talk with Wes and Theo?"

He laughs, a bit uncomfortably though. "Well, I sat Theo down when he was ten. Just in case cause we all know how he is. But Wes never asked. Figured Theo told him at some point. Or maybe one of those health classes. More importantly, why're ya askin'?"

So I relay the story, everything Amber told me. Except Joanna. I can't tell Darry that it's her, ya know. It'd hurt him, probably piss him off, too. And the last thing I want is for Darry to go picking fights with Two-Bit over this. It ain't like what they're doing is illegal - Joanna's eighteen. Doesn't mean it's okay, having sex with our buddy's daughter... But it's really none of my business.

Anyway, Darry calms me down a little, talks me through the details. It's one of the few parenting moments that makes everybody wish they'd never had kids. But it's necessary. He tells me it's no big deal. I just have to explain it in the most innocent way possible. The scientific way. I take a deep breath, thank him, hang up.

Then I return to Amber's room. She's still sitting on her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. When she sees me, she wipes them away.

"Daddy... are you sure he wasn't hurting her?"

Her voice is so delicate, I nearly cringe. On the phone, it had sounded easy, but now that I'm looking at her, my tongue isn't cooperating. This shouldn't be so hard, it really shouldn't be. Yet, it is. I brace myself, decide to take one step at a time. Answer the question.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I say, refraining from mentioning that such activities actually make both of the people involved feel really good. Stop thinking about that. "Hey, remember when Mommy's belly was all big and round and then you got a baby brother?"

"Kinda..."

"Well, her and I had to do what Mr. Mathews and Joanna were doing in order to have Paul." I hope the answer is good enough for her. Of course, it's not.

She frowns, setting her dolls to the side, silently asking me for more details. I'm reluctant to give them, but I don't think I have much of a choice. I sigh and pace the width of the room for a few laps then settle down again.

"Okay, umm... When a man and woman love each other a lot, they have sex. And what that is... well..."

She stops me before I can say anything. "It's alright, Daddy. I'll ask Mommy when she gets home." She smiles at me then hops off her bed, leaving the room.

For a brief moment, I'm relieved. I don't have to explain exactly how sex works to my eight year old. Then I realize that she's gonna ask Linda instead, which means I'm in trouble. She'll be mad at me cause I brought up the topic too soon. Even though Amber asked. And maybe she'll be mad at Two-Bit as well. No, wait... She'll definitely want to murder him for putting his hands on Joanna. More than his hands. Not just on her. My stomach flips at the thought. Joanna is pretty much a part of the family. What is he thinking?

Before I can comprehend what I'm doing, I have the phone in my hand again. My own self-pity forgotten. Now, I'm thinking of other things. Cause I know I have to reveal the secret. Except, it isn't a secret, is it? Amber willingly told me all about it.

"Yeah?"

I unconsciously heave a sigh of relief when I hear his annoyed voice. Annoyed... For a second, I wonder if I'd just interrupted him while he was in the middle of some sexual act, but then I realize that he'd never have answered if he'd been busy with a woman. So I start talking.

"Dal... This isn't easy to say, but..." I begin. "Well, I was having a conversation with my daughter just now and she told me something interesting. About Joanna. I-it's kind of a funny story, actually, cause Amber started asking all these awkward questions. And apparently - according to my eight year old daughter - Joanna's been having sex with Two-Bit. See...? It's...funny..."

Dally doesn't say anything, doesn't make a sound. He just hangs up the phone and I get this feeling that I might've made a mistake. I probably shouldn't have told him...