| Disclaimer: Lizzie and Juliet belong 
                    to me. Everyone else belongs to Marvel. Don't sue me, I have 
                    nothing to my name but these stories. 
 The Sun Will Shine Againby Raven Adams
 February 1998
Chapter 3I ne'er been on a plane 'fore! Lizzie thought as momma 
                    showed her how to fasten her seat belt. Her bear, which she 
                    had name Theodore Edward Bear (when she had told him this 
                    it had made her poppa laugh, Ted E. Bear), was sitting on 
                    her lap along with a book by Jamake Highwater called Anpao 
                    that her mother had bought her at the airport. She was sitting in the middle between her mother on the aisle 
                    and a woman in thick owl horn glasses by the window. The woman 
                    was old with graying hair pulled up in a bun and had a face 
                    that looked like a hawk's. Her nose was buried in a magazine 
                    called The National Sneak, and she seemed to be thriving 
                    on every word. I ne're been out o' N'Awlins 'fore et'er. A little bit of worry came back to her. She was going somewhere 
                    she'd never been before, leaving all the things she loved 
                    far behind her. Her friends in school and the children she 
                    had grown up with in the Guild. Her toys and books, her hamster 
                    and her bird. Her four poster bed with it's pick and blue 
                    flowered bedspread, the baby grand piano in the living room 
                    that Momma had been teaching her to play. The bayou just outside 
                    her door. Are dere bayous in France?~Her guitar in it's case 
                    under her bedroom window, her clothes. Her- Her guitar! Oh no! She couldn't leave that behind! "Momma!" 
                    She cried out as if in pain as she tried to pull her seat 
                    belt off. Her mother turned to look wildly at her. "What's wrong Lizzie? You look like you've seen a ghost!" 
                    Her mother grabbed her hands before they could find the catch 
                    to realize her belt. "My guitar! I got t' get my guitar! Red give it t' me!" 
                    She tried brushing her mother's hands away, but to no avail. 
                    The plane jerked suddenly, a bell sounded and a male voice 
                    filled the cabin. "This is your captain speaking. We have clearance from 
                    the tower and are now ready to take off. Place all seats and 
                    trays to upright positions and please note the fasten seat 
                    belt and the no smoking signs. Thank you." The ding sounded 
                    again, and the captain was gone. "Lizzie, Luv, Poppa said he would send for our things, 
                    you'll get you guitar back, I promise." She said smoothing 
                    her daughter's hair away from her face. Lizzie didn't hear 
                    her. She was crying. It wasn't her guitar she was crying for. 
                    Along with the feeling that something was wrong, and the feeling 
                    that she wouldn't see her home and things again, came the 
                    sudden and most frightening feeling of all; that she was about 
                    to lose all she love, her family included. 
 Remy pulled his Porsche into the driveway behind Juliet's 
                    Corvette, and stepped out of the car. He had promised he wouldn't 
                    come to see them, but he couldn't stand being away from them 
                    for so long. It was going to be harder when he an' Belle were 
                    marred, he knew, but there was no way he was going to stay 
                    away from his daughter. It was like he was some kind of rope in a game of tug-of-war, 
                    on one end was Juliet, a woman he loved and knew loved him 
                    in return, and Lizzie, his daughter that he had given all 
                    of his heart and soul to. Then on the other end was Belle, 
                    another woman he loved, and his poppa, the man who had pulled 
                    him off the streets, and given him a home and family. He felt as if he were being torn at the seems. On the porch he pulled off his boots, he could hear Juliet 
                    now if he walked in still wearing them "No shoes in my 
                    house Remy LeBeau!" He grinned and walked in the door. "Cherie? Petite Belle?" He called out and 
                    then realized that it was an empty house. He frowned and pulled 
                    off his sunglasses so he could see in the dim light. "Allo? Any body 'ere?" He walked through the kitchen 
                    and out to the garage, then out the back door. He was the 
                    only soul there. But that didn't make any since. Juliet wouldn't 
                    just walk somewhere, there wasn't anywhere within walking 
                    distance except for Lizzie's bus stop. He came back inside the house and sat down in a chair in 
                    the living room. Maybe they just went for a walk in the bayou. 
                    An' maybe you jus' kid youself, mon ami, he thought 
                    to himself. He stood up again, not wanting to sit, but really not wanting 
                    to stand ether. He decided he needed a drink. There was a little bar under 
                    Juliet's china cabinet where she kept all of the liqueur in 
                    the house and he walked over and opened it. He pulled out 
                    a bottle of red liquid with cherries in the bottom it, and 
                    pored himself a shot of it. He remembered the first time he'd 
                    ever seen Juliet make this stuff. "What you makin', cherie?" "Cherry Bounce." "Cherry Bounce?" "Uh huh. Ten quarts cherries, five pounds sugar, 
                    half a pint brandy, and eight fifths bourbon whiskey, straight. 
                    One sip of this, and you'll be bouncing across the room." She was right. He put the rest of the bottle back in the 
                    bar, and sat down again. It was then that he noticed the letter 
                    on the end table by where he sat. He put his drink down and 
                    picked up the envelope, ripping it in his haste to get it 
                    open. Dearest Remy, With your wedding so close at hand, I couldn't 
                    bare to stay and watch you drift away from me. I'm sure I 
                    could have handled it fine on my own, but I can't let that 
                    happen to Elizabeth. We're leaving for parts unknown, and 
                    I don't believe we will be coming back. Don't expect letters 
                    or phone calls. That would be too hard on Elizabeth. My heart, Juliet He lowered the letter to his lap and sat there for what felt 
                    like an eternity. The shadows had crept across the wall by 
                    the time he got up again. Letter crumpled in one hand and 
                    liqueur glass in the other, he walled over to the bar and 
                    pulled out the Cherry Bounce again. Tossing the glass to the 
                    side, he took a swig of the alcohol from the bottle, and dropped 
                    to the floor. By the time he was done with the whole bottle 
                    and another, he still wasn't drunk enough to say he didn't 
                    care. 
 Continued in Chapter 
                    4  
       
 
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