part 1: a love story

This is not LH either: Petaluma, California. Time unknown.

Approximate ages: April, Beau and Tyler are 25, Summer is 24.

April had never heard of storyskipping before. Neither had Beau. But in the past few months (if you could call them months -- with as many transfers as they'd had, time sort of lost its meaning) they were getting a crash course in different dimensions. The second dimension didn't last long, the third was longer, a lovely place with a warm, sandy beach. The fourth looked like home, but wasn't. And here was their fifth, Petaluma, they called it. April wasn't expecting this to last long. The letters had been coming so frequently. "Sorry for your inconvenience," they often said. "Due to unforeseen circumstances, you are being transferred. You have one hour to say your goodbyes." Some have speculated that The Author was having a nervous breakdown of sorts.

It got tiring, and it got lonesome, never getting the chance to settle in, make friends, establish new hook-up buddies, never knowing when it was going to happen or why. Most people couldn't understand what was happening to them -- it hadn't happened to them before. They didn't believe in it. And yet every time they transferred, they went together. April and Beau. Beau and April. At least they had that.

The worst thing they could have done was try to have a relationship together.

She still looked out for him every time the doors swung open, broods of young, lovely people coming through, but not Beau. He wasn't speaking to her. Her biggest fear was that he'd been transferred again without her, and she only knew otherwise because Tyler came in some nights after work, to grab a plate of pretzels or onion rings.

"Are you going to tell me where he is?"

"No," Tyler said, blunt and definite.

"Does he want you to send a message or something?"

"Nope."

"Then why are you here?"

The corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. "The onion rings are good."

Really, April should have known better. She knew herself well enough and she'd known Beau since forever. Now, she didn't even know where he lived. It was her fault, probably. It was a cry for familiarity, a new dimension and he was with her. She wanted closeness and he thought she meant something else. She's not cut out for that kind of commitment.

But she was happy here, in the forced sort of way that she has no choice but to be here whether she liked it or not. Their story was in limbo -- not finished, but not cancelled either. So now she would serve cheap drinks on the shady side of town, which was really not that much different than what she ever did. She had her own apartment, and while she wouldn't mind a roommate, she was okay. She was happy. She just wished she knew where Beau was. She never would have imagined a dimension of the universe where she and Beau weren't best friends. She never even thought it was possible. But it was possible, and now they were living it. And really, it kind of sucked.

Tyler was quick to find Summer in Petaluma. He wasn't sure entirely what he was thinking, but he knew they were getting a second chance of sorts. A fresh slate where they could be happy together, and he was going for it -- they'd be married, have a family together. He'd make her happy this time. It's what he always wanted, a chance to do things the right way. The way things should have happened. No angst, no rage, no drama.

And so it happened quickly one afternoon at the Petaluma court house on a rainy day. She was already pregnant, but that part was an accident. It didn't matter. He was ready for it. He wanted it all.

She didn't have a wedding dress, and he only had a suit he wore for graduation, but they had all of their hopes for the best, a couple of standard wedding rings, and he bought her flowers at a local shop. They were going to be happy if he had to chart the course of the universe himself. If he could, he would. This time.

The baby was a girl, Tonya. Summer wasn't immediately fond of the name -- bringing to mind certain ice skaters who bludgeoned other ice skaters in the knee caps -- but as soon as the girl was born, with her daddy's gray eyes and strange pink streaks through her brown hair, Summer fell in love. She could see herself raising a little girl named Tonya, who might grow up a bruiser like her mom and angsty like her dad, who would push little boys down in the mud and steal their lunch money.

And while their marriage might have been fast and tenuous, Summer took to motherhood with a fierce and natural passion. She didn't know why they were here more than any of them -- were they meant to learn something, or just to live? As the weeks turned into months, as the months turned into a year, she found the lines between her "real life" and this new life became blurred. Life was life, anywhere it went on. Her little girl grew, and every hope and wish and ounce of love, Summer poured it into her. And she found, for maybe the first time since her own mother had been alive, she knew what it was like to love wholly and unconditionally, no expectations, and no drama. Just love.