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Part One Becky Hammond stood at her kitchen sink looking out the window at the beach and listening to her mother ramble on and on at the other end of the phone. Her mother called at least once every two weeks just to see if Becky had come to her senses and was coming home to Kentucky. After all, there were nice, eligible young men there and according to her mother all the young men in California were either hippies or out of work actors and how could they support a wife and family. Becky had tried to explain to her mother that she did not need a man to support her. She was doing just fine on her own as a newspaper reporter and she didn't think she needed a man. "Yes, Mom," she said absent-mindedly. She was watching her neighbors now. The four young men from next door had come out on the beach and were playing a game of volleyball now. "Well, I just think if you came back home you would be happier," her mother said. "You mean 'you' would be happier," Becky snorted. "No, that's not what I mean, Rebecca. There are newspapers here, too, and you wouldn't be so far away from your friends and family." There was a short pause and then she added, "And of course, there are lots of nice young men here." At that moment, something snapped in Becky's head. She was tired of listening to her mother chatter endlessly about the eligible men in Kentucky and how she should be there taking her pick. "Well, mother. I really don't need to pick a man from there. I already have one. I was going to tell you sooner but it was impossible to get a word in edgewise with you. He and I got married over the weekend. He's a really wonderful man and we're very much in love." Once she started talking she couldn't stop. The lies just seemed to flow from her tongue. Her mother was silent for a moment and then, "Married! Rebecca, when did you meet this young man? What is his name? Do you know anything about him?" "I met him when I moved into this house." Becky was still watching her neighbors play on the beach. Micky, the one with the wild curly hair and personality to match went after the ball as it rolled away from them. "His name is Micky Dolenz. He is a musician, a drummer and singer to be exact. He and his friends have a band with quite a following in the clubs around here. He's a very nice man and he treats me wonderfully." She wasn't telling a complete lie. He was very nice to her but then all four of them were nice to her and if she ever needed anything she knew she could always go to them. They would do what ever they could to help. "That was an awful fast courtship," her mother said. "Well, we knew we were right for one another and we didn't want to spend any more time apart. So, we got married Sunday afternoon." For the next six months, Becky kept up the charade of having a husband. She made up all kinds of excuses for why her mother could never talk to him when she called-he was next door practicing, he was shopping, he was working late-anything she could think of. She never said anything about it to her neighbors and life went on as usual until one Saturday afternoon in February. Becky had asked Micky to come and look at her car because it had not been running right. Becky was cleaning house just like every other Saturday when the doorbell rang. "Coming," Becky shouted as she bounced to the door. "Hello, dear." Becky stood in shocked silence looking at her mother on the opposite side of the door.
Part Two
Mrs. Hammond stood just outside the door, looking at her shocked daughter.
"I thought I would come out here to see you and meet my new son-in-law. I tried to call you before I left but there was no answer," her mother explained with a smirk on her face. She was suspicious about this marriage and was going to get to the bottom of it.
"Come in, Mom," Becky said, opening the door wider for her to enter. What am I going to do?, she thought. She knew she would have to put an end to this at some point but she thought she would either get a make believe divorce or her make believe husband would die in an accident. Now she had to come up with a husband.
Micky, she thought. Of course. He was whom she had described to her mother and he was right outside.
"So where is that husband of yours?" her mother asked.
"He's right outside working on the car," Becky answered confidently. "I'll go get him. You can put your things in the bedroom," she said, pointing to the door under the stairs.
Becky hurried out the back door to where Micky was concentrating on something under the hood of Becky's Mustang. He looked up from his work when he heard her footsteps coming toward him.
"Hey, where's the fire?"
"Micky, I need a huge favor," Becky said as she came to a halt in front of him. She couldn't help but notice how cute he was with the smudge of grease on his nose and cheek.
"A huge favor, huh? Okay, maybe," he smiled, wiping his hands on a rag.
"I don't have much time to explain so I'll give you the short version. Can you come in and pose as my husband? My mother is here and she thinks I have been married for the last six months to a guy named Micky who looks an awful lot like you. Please, just come in and play along for a while," Becky begged.
Micky grinned and asked, "Why would she think you and I were married?"
"Don't ask questions now. I'll explain later. Please."
"Okay, okay. I'll do it, but only because you're so cute when you're desperate," he giggled. And because he was always looking for an excuse to be close to her. He had been interested in her ever since she moved next door to him and his friends. She had never been interested in any of them, not even Davy. Nothing he ever did seemed to phase her. This was his golden opportunity.
Becky rolled her eyes, said a silent prayer that this would work and grabbed his arm and drug him into the house.
Micky went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.
"Don't forget to wash the grease off your face," Becky said as she went though the doorway into the living room.
Micky washed his hands and face, hoping that he was getting all the grease off. I wonder what is going on, he thought. Why did she feel the need to tell her mother that she was married? And why did she pick me?
He walked into the living room still wondering. Becky came to his side and linked her arm with his. "Mom, I'd like you to meet Micky. Micky, this is my Mom."
Becky's mother came to him and he held out his hand to her.
"Nonsense," she said and gave him a hug. "We're family." He hugged her back and looked at Becky. She smiled and mouthed thank you to him.
"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Hammond," he said politely.
"Please call me Mom," she said as she pulled away from their hug. "I've heard a lot about you," Mrs. Hammond said, sitting down in a chair.
"Oh, all good I hope," Micky said as he and Becky sat down side by side on the couch.
"Mostly," she smiled. "Becky tells me you are a musician."
"Yes, my room-uh, friends and I have a band. I play drums and sing most of the songs." Good save, he thought to himself.
"What kind of music do you play?"
"They play rock and roll, Mom and they are very good. They have a lot of fans," Becky said.
"Where are you from?" Mrs. Hammond asked.
Micky knew where this was going. "I grew up here in southern California. I graduated from high school four years ago. I have three little sisters and my mom and stepfather live on the other side of town. I work at Joe's Garage just a few blocks from here, as my day job. Is there any thing I left out?" Micky asked with a bright smile. He had a suspicion that Becky's mom was not buying this little charade. He didn't know the story but Becky was his friend and if she needed his help, she would get it. He put his hand on her knee and smiled at her.
"Well, Mom. Micky's band has a gig tonight. Why don't you and I go out for dinner," Becky said standing. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to go to the club they are playing."
Her mother stood and started for her room. "I'll go get ready for a nice dinner. Micky, it was nice to finally meet you and I hope I will get to spend some more time with you this week." With that she disappeared into the bedroom.
Micky jumped up from the couch. "This week!" he exclaimed. "I have to do this for a week?"
"Shh." Becky flopped down on the couch, head in her hands. "I don't know how I got myself into this mess and now I've dragged you into it too." She looked up at Micky. "I'm so sorry."
Micky sat down next to her. She looked so sad and pathetic.
"It might be easier to do this if I knew why I was your `husband'," Micky said.
"My mother thinks I should go back home to Kentucky where there are all kinds of acceptable, eligible men-you know, bankers, lawyers, doctors. She thinks all the men in California are either hippies or unemployed actors. Mom would like me to be married to one of the 'acceptable' men and having his babies and playing tennis at the country club," Becky explained.
"But you want something different."
"Yes. I enjoy my job as a reporter. I don't need a man to make my life complete. I am perfectly happy without a husband. I'm not interested in getting married and having babies, at least not right now."
If Micky thought he liked her before, now he knew he liked her. She was an independent woman with a mind of her own.
"So you told her you were married to get her to leave you alone," Micky said as it all came together in his head. "Why did you pick me?"
"When I was on the phone with her, you, Mike, Davy and Peter were playing volleyball on the beach. You ran after a wild serve and that was when I told her a name. It just happened to be you because I was watching you at the moment. Then I ended up describing you and it all snowballed from there. I never thought about her coming out here. I knew I would have to come clean sooner or later but I was hoping for later. I was either going to get a divorce or, well." Becky looked up at Micky, sheepishly. "Kill you off in an accident, make believe, of course."
"Oh, man," he chuckled, leaning back on the couch. "So I guess I have to stay over here for a week, huh?"
"I guess. I'm so sorry."
"It's all right. I've just got to get my stuff over here without her knowing. Where's the bedroom?" Micky asked.
"What?"
"I have to know where to put my things. When you two leave for dinner, I'll go over to the pad and tell the guys what's going on. We'll bring my things over then."
"Oh, okay. It's up the stairs, first door on the left." They both stood and Micky started for the kitchen. Becky put her hand on his arm and stopped him.
"Micky, thank you."
Micky smiled his best smile and patted her hand.
"You're welcome."
Part Three
"What!" Mike exclaimed after Micky told them what was going on. "You are going to stay at her house for a week? Are you sure you should be doing this?"
"Everything will be fine, Mike. Don't worry," Micky answered while he packed his suitcase. "She's my friend and she needs my help."
"And it doesn't hurt that she's a good-looking, single girl," Mike said crossing his arms over his chest.
"Well, no that doesn't hurt." Micky smiled and picked up his suitcase. "Come on, help me get my stuff over there."
Mike picked up the bag Micky had packed earlier and followed him out the door and down the stairs.
"So you're actually going through with this?" Davy asked as they came downstairs.
"I think it's sweet," Peter added, grabbing Micky's guitar and following Micky and Davy out the front door.
"You would," Mike grumbled under his breath, shutting the door behind him.
When the gig was over, Micky helped the guys unload the car and then went next door to Becky's. He stopped at the front door and laughed to himself. He almost rang the doorbell until he remembered he was supposed to live there.
The house was dark except for the lamp beside the couch. He shut and locked the front door, turned off the lamp and headed upstairs. He lightly tapped on Becky's bedroom door and opened it to find her sitting at her desk wrapped tightly in her bathrobe.
"Hi," he said, shutting the door.
"Hi," Becky said looking up from her work. He smiled at the sight of her. Her long strawberry blonde hair was combed out and tumbling over her shoulders. She wore no makeup, which Micky didn't think she needed in the first place and her beautiful green eyes peeked out from behind her glasses that had slid down her nose.
"I didn't know you wore glasses," Micky said as he sat down on the bed and started taking off his boots.
She removed the glasses and sat them on the desk. "Only for reading and close work, like sewing." She stood and moved to the window seat where she picked up a pillow and some blankets. "Here are some blankets and a pillow. You can make a bed anywhere on the floor."
He took the items from her and she continued. "The bathroom is through that door," she said, pointing to a door next to the closet. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
Micky looked at the things in his hand. He hadn't thought about having to sleep on the floor. How comfortable, he thought.
"And thanks again. I owe you one," Becky said, smiling.
He put the blankets down on the floor beside the bed and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. "It's okay. Goodnight."
The next morning when Micky woke up his whole body ached from sleeping on the floor. He rolled over onto his back and moaned.
Becky came around the bed thinking he was awake and stopped in her tracks. She looked at him lying on the floor, his curly hair even wilder than normal, the blankets down around his waist exposing his bare chest. He had his eyes closed and seemed to still be asleep. He looked so sweet and innocent, almost childlike. That certainly suits him, she thought. He's just like an overgrown kid.
"Good morning," he said, opening his eyes to look at her.
Becky jumped at his words. "You scared me. I thought you were still asleep." She was so embarrassed. He caught her standing there like a schoolgirl, gawking at him.
"Just woke up. I don't think there's a bone in my body that doesn't hurt."
"I'm sorry. We'll try to think of something for you to sleep on tonight," she said. "We'd better get down stairs for breakfast before Mom comes up here to get us."
"All right," he said throwing the covers off and slowly getting up from the floor. He was wearing only a pair of shorts and Becky's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. She had seen him on the beach in swim trunks numerous times but somehow having him in her bedroom in just a pair of shorts was very different. When she finally came to her senses, she realized she was kneeling on the floor next to his makeshift bed, hugging his pillow to her chest.
Oh, for crying out loud. What are you doing, Rebecca Lee Hammond? She threw the pillow on her bed and started folding the blankets.
Micky stood at the bathroom sink brushing his teeth, thinking about Becky. He had been attracted to her from the moment he met her. The guys had all helped her move into this house and they had become very good friends but she never seemed to want to go any further. Now he understood why. She claimed she didn't need or want a man. Of course she didn't, at least not one to take care of her. She could take care of herself quite nicely. But what about companionship, friendship and love? If she could get along without a man then why was he here? He smiled to himself. Maybe by the end of the week she would change her mind.
He finished brushing his teeth and then shaved. While rinsing his face he noticed the ring with his initials on it on his finger. His father had been planning on giving it to him for his eighteenth birthday but had passed away about a month before. His mother gave it to him and told him about his father's plan. He rarely took the ring off. It reminded him of his dad and when he wore it, it made him feel close to him.
He turned the ring around on his finger, thinking.
"Becky," he said, coming through the bathroom door. He sat down on the bed and motioned for her to sit down next to him. He slipped the ring off his finger.
"Your mom is going to wonder about a wedding ring so I thought you could wear this." He placed the ring in her in the palm of her hand. "We can put some tape on it to make it fit. We'll tell your mom that we haven't saved enough money for a wedding ring yet."
"Micky, I can't take this. Your dad gave it to you," Becky said, trying to give it back.
"It's only for a week," he said, pushing it back.
"But Mom would have seen you wearing it yesterday."
"Nope. I took it off when I was working on your car. I had it in my pocket until the gig last night," he explained.
Becky looked at him. She could not believe he was doing this for her. She didn't deserve any of this. She could fall for this guy sitting next to her, smiling his wonderful smile. But, she thought. I don't need a man in my life right now. He's strictly a friend.
"Thank you," Becky said as she got up and went to her desk before she broke down into tears in front of him.
Micky shook his head and got up to finish getting ready for the day.
Part Four
Micky, Becky and Mrs. Hammond spent the day relaxing on the beach with Mike, Peter and Davy. Mrs. Hammond was having a good time and took every chance she could to ask questions about Micky and Becky. The guys did their best to give the right answers or change the subject. Mrs. Hammond liked these young men, especially Micky. She watched him and Becky all day and was convinced they were not married but that there was something between them, at least from Micky's point of view. Becky was so determined to be independent of men she couldn't see that Micky was interested in her. Maybe by the end of the week that would change.
The week went by rather quickly. Micky went to work every morning, as did Becky. The guys helped keep Mrs. Hammond busy by doing things with her. Peter took her shopping on Monday, Mike took her to a movie on Tuesday and Davy took her to an art museum on Wednesday. On Thursday she went sight seeing on her own. Every evening Micky and Becky had dinner with her and they relaxed on the couch watching TV. Becky's mom took every chance during the evenings to ask questions. She had to admit she was having fun with them. She felt bad that she had pushed Becky into lying about being married. She never considered the fact that she was being so pushy.
By Thursday night they were all so tired they went to bed early. Micky had been sleeping on a mattress that he and Mike had brought over on Sunday afternoon while everyone else kept Mrs. Hammond busy. It was much more comfortable than the floor and in the morning he just slid it under Becky's bed.
Micky didn't know how long he had been asleep when a loud clap of thunder woke him up. A storm had blown in and the wind was blowing rain against the house. The thunder was loud and lightning lit up the bedroom like it was morning already.
"Micky, are you awake?" Becky asked quietly.
"Yeah, the thunder woke me up. Are you okay?"
"I'm scared. Can you come up here with me?" Becky asked.
Micky considered that for only a moment before he got up and slid under the covers with Becky. He scooted up close to her and put his arm around her waist.
"You're shaking."
"I'm sorry. I've always been scared of storms like this. I just need you to be close. It makes me feel safe," Becky explained sleepily.
"It's all right. I'll stay here as long as you need me."
"Thank you," she said quietly. After a few moments Micky heard her breathing slow and felt her body relax. He lay there next to her listening to the rain on the roof and Becky's breathing. He moved his hand up and down her body feeling her skin through her cotton gown. He pushed his face into her hair taking in the scent of roses. He wondered what it would be like to sleep beside her every night. He fell asleep with those thoughts in his head.
When the alarm went off at six-thirty the next morning, Becky reached out to turn it off and turned over to see Micky lying on his stomach beside her. For a moment she was stunned until she remembered the events from the night before. She had asked him to come to her bed because of the storm. She had never told anyone she was scared of storms. She usually just waited them out, trembling under the covers. Last night she knew he was there and her fright had taken over and thrown her independence out the window.
As she sat there watching him sleep, she noticed again how he looked so childlike and innocent and she had an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch his face. She moved her hand to his cheek. When he didn't move, she moved her hand across his cheek and into his hair. Something about those curls just made her want to lose her fingers in them.
She couldn't even imagine why he was doing this for her. He was a very wonderful man. He was caring, funny, sensitive and a complete gentleman. Why had she never noticed those things before?
Becky moved her fingers from his hair back to his cheek.
"Good morning," Micky suddenly said and opened his eyes.
Becky jumped and quickly removed her hand from his face, hoping he didn't notice.
"Good morning," she replied, getting out of bed. "I'm sorry about last night."
"It's all right. Lots of people don't like storms." Micky sat up and leaned against the headboard.
"I shouldn't have asked you to come to bed with me. I'm twenty years old. I should be able to cope with my fears on my own." Becky gathered her clothes and went to the bathroom. "I'll see you in a while. I'm going to take a shower."
Micky watched her go into the bathroom and shut the door. Had she been doing what he thought she was doing when he woke up? He touched his cheek and smiled. Maybe she was feeling the same feelings he was. He suddenly had a thought. It was February 14, Valentine's Day. Mrs. Hammond would be expecting Micky and Becky to go out that night. He liked the idea of that, a date with Becky. Something he had wanted for a long time.
When Becky finished her shower and came out of the bathroom, she sat on the bed to put her shoes on. Micky scooted next to her.
"Guess what today is? It's Valentine's Day. Your mom is going to expect us to go out to dinner."
She hadn't thought about that. That would mean a date with Micky. Half of her was excited at the thought and the other half was terrified. "That's right. We can't leave Mom here by herself. We'll have to ask her to come too." That would make it not so intimate.
Micky got up from the bed. "I'll make some arrangements and see if I can get us in to a nice restaurant." He went in the bathroom to get ready for work.
"Okay, I'll see you downstairs for breakfast."
Part Five
That evening, Micky dressed in his best suit and waited on the couch with Mrs. Hammond.
"I hope you like the restaurant. It's one of the best in town," Micky said. He had pulled a lot of strings and spent the money he was saving for new drums to get them into Mario's.
"I'm sure I will," Mrs. Hammond answered.
They heard the bedroom door close and watched as Becky came down the stairs. Mrs. Hammond watched as Micky stood and went to the foot of the stairs, waiting for Becky. He held his hand out to her as she stepped off the last step.
"You're beautiful," he practically whispered, forgetting they were pretending. She was wearing a short white dress with a red belt at her hips and her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back from her face with a wide red headband. Red hoop earrings dangled from her ears.
"Thank you," Becky said, taking his hand. Her skin tingled at his touch and she blushed slightly. She looked at him like she had never looked at him before. They stood there, holding hands looking into each others eyes. They were the only two people in the world at that moment.
Mrs. Hammond watched them, happy with their reaction to each other. Maybe they are finally starting to realize they are perfect for each other, she thought. Maybe they would never be husband and wife, but they could certainly have a dating relationship.
Becky's mother cleared her throat. "We should go or we are going to be late."
"Yeah, we should," Micky answered, still looking at Becky. He laced his fingers with hers and led her to the car.
They enjoyed a wonderful meal and then Micky asked Mrs. Hammond to dance.
"Have you enjoyed your stay with us, Mrs. Hammond?"
"Please, call me Mom. Yes, I have enjoyed it very much. I can see you and Becky have very strong feelings for each other." Mrs. Hammond watched his reaction with a smile.
Micky just smiled, not knowing how he should answer her. They made small talk through the rest of the dance and went back to the table when the song was over.
"Would you like to dance, Becky?" Micky asked, holding his hand out to her.
"Yes," she answered with a smile.
He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. He could smell her rose scented hair and felt her slim frame against him. Everything about this felt right.
"I've enjoyed the week with you."
Becky pulled away to look at him. He was smiling at her and the look in his eyes told her he liked her very much.
"I have, too," she finally answered. They finished the dance in silence, each enjoying the closeness of the other.
When Micky had gotten ready for bed, he decided it was time to talk to Becky about what he was feeling for her. He couldn't do this anymore if he didn't tell her how he felt.
"Becky, can we talk?" he asked when she came out of the bathroom.
"What is it, Micky?" she asked sitting on the bed beside him.
"I can't do this anymore without telling you how I feel about you. Becky, I want us to be more than friends. I've wanted that since I met you but I could never get you to notice me. Being this close to you has only made me want that more and if you don't want more than just a friendship then I have to leave. I'm sorry but that's how it has to be." Micky made his speech and looked at her.
Becky sat beside him, listening. She began to smile and when he was finished she said, "I never was interested in a relationship with anyone until this week, Micky. I have spent this time with you and found out that you are a wonderful man and I wish I had seen it long ago. I want to be more that just friends with you, too."
Micky leaned close to her and kissed her gently on the lips. After a few more kisses, Micky said, "It's late. We should get some sleep." He kissed her again and stood to go to the mattress he had been sleeping on that week.
"Micky, wait. You don't have to sleep down there," Becky said, stopping him.
He looked at her for a moment. "Are you sure?"
Becky smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Okay," he said and slipped under the covers. Becky took off her robe and laid down in bed, turned off the lamp and surprised Micky by cuddling up next to him, kissing his lips, and wrapping her arms around his waist. He kissed the top of her head and hugged her tight.
"Good night," he said.
"Yes, it will be a good night," she giggled and kissed him again.
Part Six
Becky woke up the next morning to Micky gently caressing her cheek.
"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" Becky smiled a smile Micky had never seen before. She looked so happy and content.
"Yes, I slept great." A shadow crossed her face and she spoke again. "Mom leaves today and you will be going back home, too. I`ll miss you."
"I'll just be next door. I'll come see you as often as I can and you are always welcome at our place," Micky said, giving her a hug.
"Thank you." She hugged him back. "There is something I need to do today that I am not looking forward to."
"What's that?"
"I have to tell Mom what we've been doing. She deserves to know the truth and," she hesitated and then continued, "if you and I want to have a relationship, we should start by being honest."
"That sounds reasonable," he smiled. "How about we go out after we take your mom to the airport?"
Becky smiled. "I'd love that." She reached up and kissed his lips before jumping up out of bed.
Becky's mom came into the living room just as Micky and Becky came down the stairs, hand in hand. She smiled when she noticed they were holding hands and they both looked very happy. Maybe they finally realized their feelings for each other, she thought.
"Good morning, you two."
"Good morning, Mom." Becky and Micky went to the couch. "Let's sit down, Mom. I need to talk to you about something."
They all sat down in the living room and Mrs. Hammond waited to hear what she and Micky had to say.
Becky looked at Micky and then turned back to her mother. "Mom, I haven't been totally honest with you. Micky and I aren't really married. We are just friends and neighbors. He really lives with Mike, Peter and Davy next door. I was just tired of hearing about all the men back home and something snapped in my head one day and I
lied to you about being married. Micky just happened to be on the beach at the time and that's how he got mixed up in this. I picked him out of the crowd. It was just a coincidence that he was here working on my car when you showed up." Becky looked down at her hands as she was wringing them from nervousness. Micky reached over and took her hand.
"I knew I would have to tell you the truth sometime," she continued. "I never wanted it to go this far. Micky has been so nice to do this for me. He's been sleeping on the floor beside my bed and the guys brought some of his things over while you and I went to dinner Saturday night. I'm sorry. I never should have lied to you. Micky and I were no more than friends and I shouldn't have led you to believe otherwise."
"And what about now?" Mrs. Hammond asked. "How do you feel about each other now?"
Micky and Becky looked at each other and Micky began to speak. "I have been attracted to her ever since I met her and I was glad to do this for her. I have gotten to know her this week and," he looked at Becky, "I love her."
Becky smiled and squeezed his hand.
"I love you, too," she said quietly.
"Good! I was wondering when the two of you would realize you were crazy about each other," Mrs. Hammond exclaimed.
Micky and Becky turned to look at her, speechless.
"I could tell you weren't telling the truth. But I could also tell you had strong feelings for each other. I'm sorry I made you lie about it. I never realized I was pushing you that much."
Becky finally found her voice. "You knew the whole time we weren't married? Mother, how could you let us go on?"
"Like I said, I could tell how you felt about each other. I wanted to see how long it would take for the two of you to figure it out." Becky's mom got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen while Micky and Becky just sat in shock. "I'm hungry for breakfast. How about you?" She smiled as she went through the door.
"I can't believe she knew and didn't say anything," Becky said.
"She's pretty sneaky. Like mother, like daughter," Micky teased.
Becky picked up the throw pillow from beside her and whacked Micky in the face with it. He grabbed her and started tickling her. They were both giggling and Becky was trying to tell him to stop. After a few moments of tickling, they ended up in each others arms, kissing.
Mrs. Hammond watched from the kitchen door, smiling. She liked Micky and she could tell he loved Becky. She knew Becky loved him, too. Maybe it was a good thing she had come this week. It had caused Becky to find love when she wasn't even looking. Sometimes that's the best kind of love. The kind that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
THE END
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