Rating :PG

Category: Future Fic, M/M, sequel to "Grow"

Spoilers: "We Are Family"

Summary: Maria bonds with her daughters

Disclaimer: I don’t own Roswell. My dorm room’s not big enough, honest!

My youngest daughter, Cyndi, is practicing her piano. She just recently started, after watching that Tom Hanks movie "Big". It’s her favorite movie right now, and she’s obsessed with it. I’ve seen it fifty six times within the last week. She’s even started calling Alex- get this, of all things- Tom Hanks. Personally, I don’t see the resemblance.

Anyway, I am betting that she only wanted to take piano lessons so she could dance on a big piano. Unfortunately, she’s stuck with the old Valenti family piano that I "abducted" from Mom and Jim’s. It’s not like Chris is actually going to take it up…he’s just like Kyle….brothers. Stepbrothers or half brothers. Both a pain, no matter what their ages.

"NO, NO, WRONG, WRONG, WRONG!" Cyndi cries, pressing down a bunch of keys at the same time.

Did I mention that she got her father’s temper?

I run out into the living room, before Cyndi decides to use her powers and decorate the room with parts of a used piano.

"I can’t do it, Mommy!" She cries, leaning into me. I gently run my fingers through her mass of soft, brown, curls.

"Cyndi, baby, yes you can. Playing the piano takes time. Give it time, baby, and you can learn."

"I wanna dance on the piano!"

"I don’t think your Daddy would like that much, honey. Why don’t we go play dress up?"

"Yay! I wanna be a fairy princess!" She runs off with super speed to her room.

When I reach her pretty pink room, I am greeted with a dress in the face. My Cyndi is a whirlwind, who never seems to stop or slow down.

I now know what my Mom wished on me- "I hope you have a child just like you when you grow up, Maria! Then you’ll appreciate all I do."

I love Cyndi, but I also love the times when Mom and Jim decide to watch her. Heaven bless the man who will grow up to be her Michael Guerin.

I hear the door slam. Tara’s home. My sixteen year old daughter. And by the sound of it, she didn’t have too good of a day.

And then I see a blur running by the door, followed by a slam.

Now, having been a very temperamental teenager, dating Michael Guerin- who helped keep the fine folks that manufacture Pamprin in business- I understand the necessity of slamming doors. However, since I’m now somewhat of an adult-with sensitive hearing- I understand why my mom hated the doors slamming. And trust me, once she lived in a house with four very explosive and determined teenagers- she heard a lot.

I tell my fairy princess that I’ll be right back, and I go to check on my other baby.

Tara’s room is like an explosion. She’s Michael’s little girl, and I swear, she could talk him into anything. Her walls are covered with splatter paint- a family project that still brings a smile to my face. She has different music posters on the wall, and layers of clothes around the room. She learned to clean from Michael.

And in typical Michael like fashion, she is sulking on the bed.

"What’s wrong hon?"

She’s silent.

I roll my eyes. "Now do I ever let your father get away with that silent sulking? I always get him to talk to me. And don’t think that I can’t break you down…your Dad has a lot more experience at being a stone wall than you do."

"It’s Greg."

Ahh. Greg. Her latest guy.

"I’m an expert at guy problems. Try me."

"Well…you know he was going out with Claudia…and then he broke up with her, and it broke her heart…and then you know, he asked me out, and I went, and I really, really, really, liked him, and we got closer and all, and I told him I loved him…and he…he…broke up with me, Mom."

I sit down and hug her. She cries into my shoulder. And I remember when her father finally broke down and cried, and how I sat there and hugged him. My Spaceboy.

She sits up after awhile, and I hand her a Kleenex. She blows her nose with a loud honk.

"Sorry" she says, sheepishly, her golden wavy hair bouncing.

"Hon, I’m your Mom. I’ve seen your bare tush, I’ve cleaned up your barf. I can handle the honking."

She rolls her eyes. "Please."

I shrug.

"Mom, will it work out?"

I sigh. "Unfortunately, none of us has the power to predict the future. But I can tell you that everything will work out perfect in the end. Baby, there is a guy out there for you. You just have to find him. Right now, you’re still coming out of your cocoon. But soon, sooner than you believe, Baby, you will become a gorgeous butterfly, and have everything you want. Just hold still. It’ll come."

She sighs. "But how do you know?"

"Because, once upon a time, my heart was broken. And I felt terrible. I loved this guy so much, and he just walked away. He said he loved me too much."

"Too much? Whatever happened to this guy?"

I laugh. "He’s happily married with two daughters and a son on the way."

"Do I know him? He must have been a jerk to let you get away."

I’m home!" Michael yells from downstairs. "If anybody cares, that is!"

I hear fairy feet heading downstairs, and a familiar thump.

I turn towards Tara. "He’s downstairs."

"Dad?" She laughs. "Dad did something that lame?"

"He wasn’t always as suave as he is today, believe it or not."

I hear a familiar growl at the door. "Maria Guerin, what are you telling our daughter?"

I laugh. "Just about being a butterfly, Spaceboy."

"Daddy!" Cyndi cries, hanging around Michael’s shoulders. "Don’t be mean to Mommy!"

I laugh and wink at Tara.

We rush over and start tickling Michael.

In the Guerin home, there is always lots of laughter.

Back to Area 51 (Section IV)