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January 29, 2019

Walking into the nice one-story brick home with a big bay window in the front, Felicity exhales loudly. The child sitting on the floor about age nine looks up at her.

"Mom, Tee is upset." The kid bellows.

"Hello Felicity," A woman calls out.

She follows the sound of the voice and ends up in the kitchen, where a woman about the age of 57 looks up at her from her perch behind the laptop at the island.

"Why does Chandler think you're upset?" She questions.

"Lindsey Buckingham underwent open heart surgery. Adam and his wife aren't coming to my set this weekend, which makes sense, new baby, you know. But no, they're going to a poetry reading with Bryan and Derrick instead. Speaking of Derrick, he called and said he threw the rest of my shit in a garbage bag and if I don't get it by Monday he's sending it to the dump. I have no more room in my tiny apartment for it all, and I can't afford a storage unit." Felicity babbles.

"Well, you still have a room here. I'll have Paul go get your things tomorrow. As for your brother, brothers are stupid. I have four. Lindsey Buckingham isn't your concern." She takes her glasses off and places them on the table.

"I know Aunt Deb, but you know how much I love Fleetwood Mac. It's the only thing I have left of my mother. I know she wasn't biological, but I feel like I inherited that from her. It's shocking to think that they will all die pretty soon. It sucks," Felicity pouts sitting on the stool.

"I will say Charlotte did have a thing for Lindsey Buckingham but even so, everyone dies." Deb shrugs going to back her work.

"Do you have food? I've only eaten diner food for like a week." Felicity sighs changing the subject.

"Fridge." Deb points with her pen.

"Tee, what are you doing here?" Paul asks walking in the kitchen door. Gym bag slung over his shoulder. The man is 55 but can still run a mile in ten minutes and bench press 350 pounds.

"I had the night off and it's been a long day." She breathes out slathering homemade apple butter onto a slice of bread.

"I don't like you working three jobs," Paul says kissing his wife on the cheek.

"I need to pay bills someway. I'm so behind on student loans and car payments. It's not even funny." Felicity shakes her head.

"I thought Adam was helping you out?" Paul asks as Chandler comes running in to greet his father. Micah, the youngest trailing behind.

They're the picture-perfect family, Paul with his athletic build and graying hair. Brown eyes framed by circular glasses. Debra with her blonde wavy hair and petite frame complete with Hazel eyes. Their two boys, Chandler with blonde waves and brown eyes and Micah at age seven the carbon copy of his brother except he's brunette. At first glance, you'd never know that they were adopted. Felicity often wishes her situation would mimic their's except her brother is her older twin, and they're both twenty-four. However, they weren't happily adopted. Well, Adam was.

"Hey, Paul, could you go to Derrick and Bryan's house and get the rest of my things? Aunt Deb said I could store them in my room here." Felicity breaks up the cute family moment.

"Absolutely. Are you staying here tonight?" Paul questions.

"Can I?" Felicity sighs shoving a fork full of Mac and Cheese into her mouth, the other half of her meal.

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