Election Results

by CAP

November, 1994

Daria stood on the dais with her sister, Quinn and father Jake and applauded with the rest of the crowd as her mother Helen stepped to the podium. The small smile fixed resolutely upon her lips never wavered. No camera had the opportunity to catch Daria appearing anything less then attentive and happy as Helen gave a short but enthusiastic speech moments after her opponents conceded the election for district judge.

Statewide the election was a mixed bag for the Democratic Party. They retained all but one of the congressional seats they held but could not defeat any Republican incumbents or win the US Senate seat that was in play. Furthermore the Governor of Texas, Ann Richards went down to defeat to a political neophyte named George W. Bush whose only qualification for the office seemed to be his last name.

In heavily Republican Highland County, the results were even worse. Helen Morgendorffer's win was the only local office the party could celebrate. The zealous response to her victory reflected it.

Daria stepped from the stage as soon as her mother finished speaking. Spying a free chair in a corner she made a beeline for it. The party would continue for at least an hour longer and her mother would work the room as would any good politician.

She was fatigued so playing a drowsy schoolgirl up past her bedtime took little effort and kept most people at bay. Only a few bothered to attempt any small talk and none troubled themselves to state more than how proud she must be of her mother and joked that she would be a second generation politician in the future. Amazing herself, Daria made no snide or snarky comment to any of them but it took more and more labor so she was very grateful when her mother finally said that it was time to go home.

She remained quiet during the ride to their modest house, her head resting against the cool window as streetlamps past by her. She slogged along behind the others when they arrived home. An unintelligible grunt was her only reply when Helen announced that because of the late night both girls could skip school tomorrow. She barely acknowledged Quinn's running commentary as they brushed their teeth then shuffled to bed.

Her sister's soft breathing told Daria that Quinn was asleep within minutes but the Sandman failed to cross the room. She did lay in bed well into the night, her thoughts far away.

A soft knock rousted Daria from her slumber. Even before she opened her eyes the brightness of the sun streaming through her window told her that it was late morning perhaps even noon. She groaned at the headache that took up residence in her frontal lobe. She heard another knock.

"Good morning, Daria," Helen brightly said as she entered the girls' bedroom.

Daria ceased struggling against the inevitable. She swung her legs from beneath the blankets managing a semi-sitting position before reluctantly creaking her eyes open just a fraction. Quinn, she noticed even without her glasses , was already up and gone. Her own bed neatly made.

"Is it still morning?" she mumbled.

"For a little while longer," her mom replied. "You were one tuckered little girl. You've been asleep for almost twelve hours."

Daria squinted at the clock on the night stand barely making out the large digital numbers. "No," she grumpily replied. "Only about seven."

Helen sat on Quinn's bed. "What kept you awake?" she asked with concern. "You aren't worried about me becoming a judge, are you? I'll be dealing with criminals but believe me, I'll be safe. No one is going to harm me."

Daria ran a hand through her tangled hair before speaking. "No, Mom, I don't think that you'll be assassinated or even threatened. I doubt that you will try drug lords or mafia hit men."

"Then what kept you awake?" Helen asked again.

Daria shook her head. "Nothing. I just couldn't get to sleep is all."

Helen peered closely at her eldest child. Daria wore a stoic mask most of the time but a mother could not be fooled. "Please, Daria," she pleaded. "If something is bothering you, tell me."

"I really don't feel like talking about it, Mom," she replied looking down at the floor as she instantly realized that in her groggy state she made a mistake in her choice of words. She yielded her mother an opening.

"Please, Daria," repeated a relentless Helen. "What is bothering you?"

"It'll only make me seem selfish," Daria replied. "It is selfish."

"Oh, how so?"

Daria sighed. She did not want to discuss the subject especially seconds after waking up but a daughter could not be fooled. Her mother would hammer away until she got what she wanted from her.

"Mom, congratulations," she began. "I think that you'll be a good judge probably even an excellent one. I mean that sincerely."

"Thank you, Daria," Helen replied. "But that's hardly selfish."

"No," she answered. "But you already handed down your first sentence. I really hoped that we would soon move far away but now I'm stuck here all the way through high school."

Her anger and disappointment burst through her shell of reserve as she continued in a louder more strident voice. "Four more years! FOUR MORE YEARS! My entire childhood spent in f'ing Highland!"

Helen caught a glimpse of sudden tears pouring down Daria's face before her daughter flung herself face down onto the pillow. The vehement bitterness in her daughter's voice took Helen by surprise. Daria dropped less than subtle hints to her from time to time about sending resumes to firms in other parts of the country but she never guessed at the depth of raw hatred that Daria felt toward Highland.

Helen moved beside Daria. She gently stroked her hair allowing Daria to cry herself out. It was not a time for words fortunately for Helen who was at a loss as to what to say anyway.

Eventually the sobs subsided. Helen tenderly pulled Daria from the soaking wet pillow into a motherly hug.

"Sweetie, I'm so sorry that you feel this way," she said sympathetically.

Daria remained in her mother's embrace for several more moments before before slowly extracting herself. Her feet found her slippers but she did not rise from bed. Instead she remained sitting by her mother.

"I'm sorry too," she finally said. "But that's how I feel."

"I'm sure if you put your mind to it you could see the good things about Highland," Helen replied. "You might even come to like it here."

Daria bite back the tart remark that nearly found voice. Several deep breaths calmed her to the point she trusted herself to speak instead of snarling.

"Mom," she began evenly knowing that her mother could not possibly be that obtuse. "You don't like it here either. Four years from now, with the cache of being a former judge added to your previous experience as an assistant prosecutor and private practice, you'll be looking for a job as far from here as you can get and will undoubtedly land good one. "

"I might win reelection," Helen said.

Daria looked over at her an eyebrow arched. "Really, Mom" she replied. "Seriously, don't even bother spending the time, money, and effort trying. You, I, and everyone else in the county know why you won this time. You can't expect to get so lucky again."

Helen wanted to believe that she was the people's choice but she knew otherwise as her daughter readily surmised. If her opponent had not be caught with a fifteen year-old boy three weeks earlier, he would have coasted to victory. He might still have if it had been a fifteen year-old girl. The last minute write-in campaign that the Republicans mounted for a different candidate failed to gain the needed traction but still Helen only garnered fifty-two percent of the vote. In a very socially conservative district, she barely defeated a abruptly outed gay ephebophile and someone not even on the ballot.

"I think that I'll be a good judge," Helen defensively said. "I'll make a difference."

"Yes, you will," Daria responded. "But it won't matter come the next election."

December 1998

Helen peered out the front window of her house onto the cold bleak day. Despite awards and accolades that were showered upon her during her tenure as District Judge, she was crushed at the polls four weeks earlier but being a realist, she quietly began hunting another job the previous June anticipating her defeat for reelection. One opportunity especially caught her eye. Upon the recommendation of her Congressman, Chet Edward, she got an interview with the US Justice Department. She returned to Highland only that morning from Washington D.C., new position in hand but with it came decisions to be made one of which caused her to stare from the living room window waiting for her eldest daughter to get home from school. They needed to talk but it was not a conversation that she looked forward to having with her.

She glanced at the clock on the wall turning back in time to spy Daria appear around the corner. A sharp wind whipped dried leaves around her as she trudged alone down the empty sidewalk.

Always alone Helen thought. When they first moved to Highland, Daria had friends. She attended birthday parties even sleep-overs yet as she progressed through school the friends and invitations became fewer and fewer until her only interactions of any length were with those two brain dead boys who surprised Helen by not appearing on the docket before her in the last four years.

"She's coming now," she turning from the window. "Oh Jake, try not to look so guilty."

Jake forced a smile. "How's this?"

"It'll have to do."

Helen was sitting on the couch beside her husband when Daria walked into the house.

"Hello, Sweetie," Helen said brightly.

"Hey, Kiddo," Jake said. "How was school?"

"It sucked, Dad, but I guess it sucked a little less because it was Friday," Daria replied removing her coat and gloves. "Hi, Mom. I didn't expect you home until tomorrow. Didn't Janet Reno see you after all?"

Helen patted the cushion beside her. She waited as her daughter joined them on the sofa. Daria did not say anything but Helen caught the gleam of suspicion and wariness in her eyes.

"I got the interview and met the President himself," Helen said. "He wants me to be one of his Deputy Assistant Attorneys General."

"That's great, Mom," Daria replied with an actual modicum of excitement. "When do you begin."

"Officially next month," Helen replied. "But I need to get to D.C. right after Christmas."

"You need to get there," Daria repeated.

Helen caught the emphasis on the pronoun and inaudibly sighed. She wanted to break it to her daughter in stages but Daria cut to the heart of the matter as usual.

"Yes, I need to get there early to get settled in," she replied. "Once I start time will be at a premium."

"You're leaving us behind," Daria said flatly.

"I know that you don't particularly like Highland but please understand that it would make little sense for you to transfer to a new school with only one semester left before you graduate," Helen pleaded as a mask fell over her daughter's face stifling all emotional cues. "You can understand that, can't you?"

"I'd repeat my senior year if I had to," she replied.

"Daria, despite your lackadaisical attitude toward studying you have a very good chance of being valedictorian of your graduating class," argued Helen patiently. "It would be a complete waste of time for you to be anywhere but college next year."

"Valedictorians of a fourth-rate high school don't impress university admission directors," Daria countered. "Good grief, a 2.9 GPA puts you in the top fifteen percentile at Highland High and that's with rampant grade inflation. They don't even have AP classes or the kind of extracurriculars that leap from a college application."

Helen changed tacks. "Your father has to stay behind to get the house on the market. There just is not enough time to get it ready to sell before I have to leave. He'll need both the help and the company. You wouldn't want him to be alone here for months on end, would you?"

"Yeah, Kiddo," Jake piped in."What would I do without you?"

Daria ignored him. "You apparently have no problem leaving him alone," she shot back at her mother.

"Daria, please," Helen began.

"Please, what, Mom?" interrupted Daria as she stood. "Like it? Accept it with grace. Grin and bear it? It's a done deal. You're getting the hell out of Highland even before your term is over. Congratulations. Just remember that you have a family here and give the three of us a call sometimes."

"Quinn's coming with me," Helen said mentally bracing herself for further histrionics.

Daria stared for several moments then surprised her. "Good," she said quietly. "She deserves something better than this hellhole."

She spun around and stalked from the lounge without another word.

"That didn't go well," Jake said miserably.

"There's no way it could have," Helen sighed.

June 1999

Under an already blazing summer sun, Daria trudged down the sidewalks of her neighborhood past lawns with withering grass wondering for the hundredth time why she was doing this. Maybe it was a simple act of planting a seed in the desert; an act of faith and optimism that was likely misplaced, misguided, and doomed. Perhaps it simply a matter of Karmic payment. As odd as it was for her to acknowledge, Beavis and Butthead along with books were the reasons that she kept her sanity in Highland. Their asinine antics, unbelievable depths of ignorance, sophomoric 'humor', and daily series of choices that made them leading candidates to win a Darwin Award, while most times irritating, gave her a motive to get out of bed. They amused her in a watching a train wreck sort of way.

She passed one brown yard that hosted a 'For Sale' sign. Their own house had yet to sell. She and her father repainted nearly every room inside and the exterior. They cleaned daily keeping the house at tiptop, drop in ready condition at all times. When spring rolled around they planted new shrubbery and flowers at the recommendation of their agent. They mowed, edged, reseeded and watered the lawn until it was the best looking one for several blocks around yet few potential buyers came to view the house and all left without so much as an insultingly low offer even with the asking price being reduced. Arson began to look as the best alternative.

"Hand it here, Dumbass, you're doing it wrong."

"No way, fart knocker."

Daria heard her quarry. A few steps further, she found the pair. Beavis held a magnifying lens focusing sunlight onto a fence. A small tendril of smoke rose from a black spot. Butthead put a finger into the beam.

"Ow, ow, ow!"

"Heh, heh, heh."

Butthead punched Beavis in the arm causing Beavis to drop the lens.

"Dammit," he snapped driving Butthead to the ground. "I almost had it on fire."

Daria snorted watching the two boys raise a dust cloud as they rolled about ineffectively grappling; a near daily ritual that likely predated kindergarten.

"If you two were gay," she said. "It would solve your social problems."

"Hey, it's Diarrhea," Butthead said.

"Diarrhea, cha, cha, cha," giggled Beavis as both boys rose their fight immediately forgotten.

"I have something for you two," Daria said marveling at their ability to find the same joke funny day after day, year after year.

"She's gonna give us somethin'," drawled Butthead lewdly.

"She wants us," Beavis tittered.

"What's this stuff?" asked Butthead as she handed them some papers and small pamphlets.

"It's admission paperwork for and information on various programs at the Texas State Technical College in Arimathea," answered Daria.

Both boys stared at her blankly.

"You have graduated high school," Daria patiently began. "An event so astonishing it should have made the news. You need to do something more with your lives than watching television."

"You want us to go to school?" asked Butthead.

"School sucks," Beavis added.

"Yes, it does," Daria agreed. "But I'm talking about technical training. You like fire, Beavis. Maybe you should consider welding. Butthead, maybe a construction certificate. Learn how to build something. Perhaps plumbing."

"No way," Butthead replied. "Chasing turds all the time."

"Just look over the offerings see what appeals to you," Daria suggested.

"Why?"

"Up to you," Daria said with feigned indifference. "But you'll make good money and chicks dig guys with skills."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," Daria replied purposely about to hand them a straight line. "Women like guys who can handle tools."

"She said tools," both boys said in unison as she expected but they were scanning the pamphlets as much as their limited reading ability allowed them. She was satisfied.

"Good bye, Butthead," Daria said. "Good bye, Beavis."

"See ya, Daria," Butthead replied.

"Unlikely," she answered. "I'm leaving Highland tomorrow. I won't be back."

"Leaving?" Beavis repeated confused. "Where are you going?"

"Corpus Christi," she responded. "Coastal Texas University. I began classes in a few days."

"Classes? It's summer," Butthead said.

"Yes, it is" Daria concurred. "But it gets me the hell out of Highland. Good bye."

"Going to school when you don't have to. Weird," Beavis muttered while carefully reading the brochure on TSTC-A's welding program.

Butthead said nothing as he silently watched Daria walk away. He watched until she disappeared from view.

Daria moved along the sidewalk retracing her steps. She sighed deeply as her thoughts turned to the Coastal Texas University. It was not her first choice. It was not even her fifth choice but it was the only university that gave her enough scholarship monies to pay for her entire education. Thrown back on her own resources or what her parents could afford a community college was her only realistic option and even those would entail financial hardship. With no scholarships offered, out-of-state schools, the dream or dreams, with their higher tuition rates just were not a consideration.

"Coastal Texas," Daria softly snorted still disappointed that once again fate chose to deal her a busted flush. Even within state, CTU did not have the regard of a Texas, Rice , SMU, Texas Poly, or Texas Republic. Beyond the borders of the state it was mainly known as a party school regularly making Top Ten lists. It attracted students, especially from the snowy Midwest, more interested in the beach than classes which was a shame for it was a good school despite its reputation.

She knew that if she wanted to she could simply walk away from the scholarship throw what little she owned into her small car and point it anywhere but Texas. She could find a job near a better university and spend several years as a part time student. She could join one of the services and save every dime she could while getting the classic 'three hots and a cot' which would keep her expenses to a minimum. No, the better alternative was to bite the bullet, attend CTU, work hard, graduate then hit the highway with a degree in her hands and greater options.

"I'll likely die in Texas," she muttered to herself gloomy at the prospect of even more time postponing a future elsewhere.

May 2003

Ava Takahashi sat at a table in Coastal Texas University's student common building nursing a surprisingly good coffee and staring out of the large plate glass window at the endlessly rolling waves of the Gulf of Mexico kissing CTU's sizable private beach teeming with students and birds. Beefcake in swim trunks flirted and laughed with women in the skimpiest of bikinis. The stray thought that there probably was a BMI prerequisite for admission to CTU swam through Ava's mind but as inviting as the scene was her inner Beach Bunny did not yearn to be out on the sand. She only wanted to get the interview done with and grab the first flight back to Silicon Valley.

Corpus Christi may as well be Dogpatch as far as she was concerned. If it was not California, she did not want to be there but when the president of the company says hop a plane and fly half way across the country to hire someone whose writings posted on the internet caught his eye she grabbed her briefcase and company credit card and went. David Vélez was a good boss and Xavtech while still very small showed promise. Ava was not going to risk a possible lucrative future IPO by getting fired and, she admitted to herself, what she read of Daria Morgendorffer's work was superb. It was concise and clear but would it translate into the job?

She took another sip of coffee. She did not need to be here. Dammit, there were technical writers enough in the Bay Area let alone California. They did not need the expense of a plane ticket and rental car to interview one in Texas. The only upside was that she was given tomorrow off so three day weekend!

"Ava Takahashi?"

Ava turned from her fantasies of westbound jets back to the everyday.

Oh, you poor girl, you must hate it here, she thought catching her first sight of Daria. She stood out like a vampire among her fellow sun worshiping students. Her face was pale. So presumptively was the rest of her but the only other skin visible was on her hands. A long sleeve blouse, a long skirt, and pair of supple boots hid the rest of her from the sun. Even her thick shoulder length hair and large glasses seemed almost protective.

"Hi, Daria," Ava said her professional bright voice kicking in complementing her best 'its good to meet you' smile. "Please have a seat."

Daria placed a laptop on the table as she sat opposite Ava.

"So, tell me about yourself," Ava said.

"I'm twenty-two, single, born and raised here in Texas," Daria began. "I just completed my degree work in English yesterday. My parents live in Maryland now. Mom's a lawyer. Dad owns and operates a fast food franchise. My only sister is currently a student at Maryland State majoring in marketing."

"How well you you think that a degree in English will help you in this job?" Ava asked.

"For what position are you interviewing me?" Daria asked. "For that matter with what company are you?"

"You don't know?" a surprised Ava asked in return.

"No, I don't," replied Daria with a small negative waggle of her head. "All Doctor Wilkes said was that a headhunter named Ava Takahashi wanted to meet me at one o'clock."

"That's it?" Ava asked.

"Well, he added that you were gorgeous," Daria replied with a tight grin. "But I don't think that had to do with anything job related."

Ava smiled ruefully. "This has been a complete hash up to this point. Let's see if we can get it out of the woods. First, I'm with Xavtech in Silicon Valley. We're a smallish tech company, forty odd employees, mainly dealing with software development. David Vélez, the founder, CEO, and President came across some of your writing online and it caught his eye enough to send me out here to try to get you on board."

"As what?" Daria asked.

"A tech writer," Ava replied. "Think you can handle it?"

Daria flipped open her laptop, punched a few keys. "My updated as of this morning resume," she answered turning it around so Ava could read the screen. "As you can read technical writing is one of my minors."

"One of your minors?" Ava repeated before quickly scanning the resume. Daria smiled inwardly as she read the other woman's face. Th recruiter was favorably impressed.

"BA in English, Magna Cum Laude," Ava began aloud. "Minors in Computer Science, Electrical Engineering, and Technical Writing. Internships at three different high tech companies here in Texas. A patent. Impressive."

"Thank you," Daria said.

"Did you party at all while you were here?" Ava asked lightly.

"No, I didn't go to parties or date much for that matter," Daria assertively replied. "I worked hard, studied, and built a resume that would keep me from working retail for minimum wage."

"Go to any of the games?"

"I caught a few of the baseball games over the last four years but I don't like any other sports," Daria replied.

"I thought that football and Jesus were twin gods in Texas," said Ava.

"They are but I'm an apostate in regards to the former," Daria replied.

"And legally I can't ask about the latter," Ava lightly said. "Pledged a sorority?"

"Oh, God, no," Daria emphatically replied.

Ava frowned. She turned from the computer then formed a pyramid with her fingers peering intently at Daria,who calmly looked back at her. As the silence continued, Daria mentally reviewed what she said. For the life of her she could not see why her statement got such a reaction. Was Ava one of those who always worked the fact that she was a Kappa, Gamma, or Delta into the conversation?

"So, you didn't rush or spend any time at the stadium yelling 'go whatever'…"

"Seabirds," Daria reflexively supplied.

"Seabirds," Ava acknowledged in an oddly mild manner. "Tell me the personal Daria."

Ava chuckled as Daria arched an eyebrow. "I'm not asking for details of your sex life," she said. "Just your life outside of the classroom in general terms."

Daria thought for a moment. Admitting to playing poker, usually a two hundred dollar minimum buy-in; Stud, Draw, Texas Hold 'Em, nothing cute like wild cards a couple or three a month at frat houses probably was not something she wanted to do in a job interview. It kept her in spending money since most of other players only thought that they knew how to gamble but it could set off alarms.

"Not much to say," Daria matter-of-factually replied. "Most of my social interactions outside of class revolve around Sigma Tau Delta, the English honor society. We edit and publish two literary magazines for the university."

"Oh, those wild and crazy poets," quipped Ava.

Daria allowed herself a small smile. "We have a few with Byronic pretensions."

"Undoubtedly a couple of Sylvia Plath wannabes, also," added Ava.

"It was the same at your university, I gather" replied Daria.

"Yes, but I was just at the fringes," she replied. "I dated an art major for a while so at any party we went to there were several literary types."

"Dark clothes, affected brooding attitudes," furnished Daria. "Drank martinis while everyone else had a beer."

Ava smiled broadly before turning her attention back to Daria's laptop. "Do you mind if I email your resume to David?" she asked.

Her fingers quickly keyed in the command at Daria's nodded consent.

"Daria," Ava started in a friendly yet almost concerned tone when she finished. "I'll tell you two things. First, you are more than qualified for the job. You easily have the educational background and work experience necessary."

"But," Daria said.

"I'm going to be honest with you," Ava said. "You're an obviously bright woman so I hope that you take my words to heart. I'm sure you've heard the old saw about how the 'A' students end up working for the 'C' students."

"I never bought it," Daria replied stridently. "It's just an excuse for the lazy to coast in school. A way to handle their own shortfalls."

"No, it isn't," Ava countered. "There is a lot of validity to the adage. Knowledge, I should say subject knowledge, is only part of the workplace success equation. The willingness to listen, learn, and work hard is the major factor but another big part is people knowledge, social skills, the ability to fit in and be a productive part of a team. The power to 'win friends and influence people' as Dale Carnegie put it."

"And you don't think that I can do that," stated Daria.

"At this point all I had is an impression garnered from a few minutes acquaintance," Ava replied. "But I will admit that your acknowledged, almost proudly acknowledged, lack of a social life does raise a red flag. While you are articulate and have remained engaged with me so far, your ill-at-ease with a stranger is palatable. I have to wonder how well you would do in a work environment especially one like ours. It is a very collaborative business, practically a clubhouse with hazy lines of authority and responsibility."

"Can I work well with others? Yes, I can, and have done so at all of my internships and I can supply the references to back that up," Daria answered assertively. "Am I a social butterfly? No, I'm not and not likely to become one. It is just not my nature."

Ava's mobile phone rang before she could comment.

"Yes, David," she said. "No, I'm interviewing her now. Yes, it is an impressive resume."

She glanced back at Daria studying her for a few heartbeats. "No, I have no serious reservations. Are you sure? Certainly, I'll do that. Bye."

Ava closed the phone. She produced a pen and a manila folder from the briefcase beside her chair. She quickly extracted a piece of paper, lined through something, and made a notation. She then spun the page around and slid it across the table.

"Daria, this a a formal offer sheet," she said. "Sorry about the editing but one look at your resume caused David to up the starting salary by ten percent. Something that you don't mind, I assume."

All the poker playing helped Daria keep her face from betraying the absolute wave of joy that washed over her. Two-thirds of the original salary extended would have been more than enough. She was going to get paid a boatload to actually leave Texas, to do the type of work that she wanted to do and it all fell into her lap. The long process of looking for a job that she so dreaded was avoided.

"Well, mull it over for a couple of days," Ava said. "I'll leave you my card. Give me a call by Monday to let me know one way or the other, if you would."

"I'll accept the offer," Daria replied before Ava could even push back her chair. "When do you want me to start?"

"When can you?" she asked in return.

"I'd say Monday if my family wasn't flying down for the graduation ceremony Wednesday," Daria responded traces of elation and excitement escaping as her iron control slipped a tiny bit.

"Let's make it two weeks from Monday, then. That will give you some time with you family. Something you'll undoubtedly want as you'll be living so far from them now and even as little as a college student like yourself is likely to own, moving is always a bitch," replied Ava as she extracted another, thicker folder from her briefcase. "Information on insurances, company policies, vacation, locator map, etcetera, can be found here. There's a live check to help with relocation expenses. My card is stapled inside so if you have any questions, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you," Daria said.

"No, thank you for not making this trip the total waste I feared it might," Ava said extending her hand. "You may not be a social butterfly but I believe that you will do well so welcome to Xavtech!"

July 2014

Daria sat in her car as Delta Rae enthusiastically sang on the radio. She stared for several minutes at the townhouse which she just rented before rolling out into the humid heat of the Maryland summer. The apartment was not luxurious but it would suit her needs. The vicinity was quiet, the low crime statics for both the town of Lawndale and the neighborhood reassuring, plus it was not too far from her new job. It also had the added benefit of being an end unit. Only one wall shared with a neighbor.

Her life did not follow the trajectory she thought that it would. Xavtech proved to be an exciting, interesting place to work so she was content for three years but David Velez, while a great boss, was not the best of businessmen. He overspent on salaries and perks trying to attract and keep the best talent and eventually, despite the amount of revenue coming in, the company went bankrupt.

The next job, though quickly acquired, was not as satisfying but she lost it after less than two years when they were bought out and she was laid off. Afterward, the economy tanked. A couple of short term positions that went nowhere followed. It every case, she was one of the first to get let go and she knew the reason why. She always more than did her job and did it well but at five o'clock she disappeared from their lives. She did not hang out after work, have office affairs, or hit the bars for a 'girls night out' with the other women. Parties and pot lucks in the break room found her sitting at the end of tables. She could not care less about sports, celebrity gossip, the latest viral video on the internet, or any of the usual topics of workplace conversation. She simply was never one of the gang and it cost her.

At thirty-three, this was not her last chance but her mother called in a huge favor to get her this opportunity and Daria did not want to disappoint her. The two years of constant job interviews that did not lead to work; putting food on the table by hitting the blackjack tables and occasion poker games in casinos in Nevada and California plus a serious amount of introspection hardened her and softened her at the same time.

She was a different woman then the emotionally taunt girl that left Highland. Fifteen years after fleeing from there, the town still haunted her but she did not want to emulate her father chained forever to a less than ideal childhood. It was time to put it behind her. The emotional shackles needed to be removed and there would not be a better time then now.

She was nearly at her door when a voice called out, "Hey, Neighbor."

Daria inwardly groaned. Dealing with the welcome wagon was not something she wanted to do at the moment but thought it best to get it done. Besides, it was in line with her new resolve.

She turned but instead of a Junior League type that she expected she faced a woman about in own age wearing a crimson one piece bathing suit, towel draped around her neck. With her was a boy about ten or eleven carrying some folding chairs and two little girls perhaps five or so each wearing water wings and with inflatable plastic floats in the shape of comical horses about their waists. All four still bore the damp remainders of swimming.

"You're 108 I take it?" the woman asked.

"No, mom, the apartment is 108," the boy said. "She probably has an actual name."

"Smart ass," she said affectionately to the boy before turning back to Daria. "Jane Lane here."

"Daria Morgendorffer," Daria said.

"Any relation to Helen Morgendorffer?" she asked.

"She's my mother," Daria replied. "How do you know her?"

"We work at the same law firm," said Jane. "Although I have never worked directly with her."

"You're an attorney?" asked Daria.

Jane snorted. "Hardly. I'm a paralegal. How about yourself? Followed mommy in into the exciting world of questionable ethics?"

"Much to her disappointment, no," Daria replied. "I've worked as a technical writer for most of the last decade."

"Right click on column A," Jane replied. "I'm sure you guys do a great job but I never could follow half of any instruction manual."

"That's why they have call centers," Daria said glancing at the children who watched her with varying shades of curiosity.

"This is Mercy and Grace," Jane introduced placing a hand on each little girl. "And the snarky heathen here is Lane."

"Lane Lane?" Daria asked.

"No, ma'am," Lane loftily said. "It's Regret. Lane Ignatius Regret."

"For a snarky heathen, you're well mannered, Mister Regret," Daria replied smiling.

"I try to be because it drives mom crazy for some reason," the boy answered.

"A word of advice, Daria, don't give birth to geniuses," Jane said mussing her son's hair playfully. "They're nothing but trouble. Anyway, if you not busy come on over in a couple, three hours. We're going to be grilling some burgers and brats. There will be a few other neighbors there, as well."

Daria hesitated. An evening of exchanging small talk and quickie bios with a complete strangers was not high on her to do list but experience taught that it was best to get off on the right foot with new neighbors especially when living in an apartment complex.

"Thank you," she replied. "Where are you?"

"That would help, wouldn't it?" asked Jane rhetorically before pointing to the set of townhouses that sat perpendicular to Daria's place. "The other side of the big oak there. More or less next door. 110."

"110," Daria repeated. "What can I bring?"

"Beer," Lane quickly said with a straight face.

"Oh, don't worry about," Jane laughed. "You just moved in and believe me I know how rough that it. I've done more than my share the last few years. So an extra burger on the grill or more?"

"Subtle, Mom," Lane said rolling his eyes.

"It's just me," replied Daria a sprouting fondness for the boy taking root.

Jane started to ask another question but her daughters begin to get fussy. The pool was fun but standing about while their mother talked was not. They wanted out of their wet things and something to drink.

"Okay, girls," Jane said taking hold of her girls hands. "See ya soon, Daria."

The aroma of grilling hamburgers and sausages teased her nose when Daria emerged from her apartment three hours later carrying a stack of two large green plastic bowls with a snap-on lids, two ladles resting atop them. Lane, playing in the shade of the massive white oak with a girl about his own age, spotted her. Quickly the pair scampered over to her side easing the bowls from her.

"Mom said that you didn't have to bring anything," he pointed out as they fell into step with her.

"Do you always do what your mother tells you to do?" Daria asked lightly.

Lane grinned. "To hear her talk no but I do actually most most of the time. This is Mercedes Griffin. We're in the same class."

"Hello, Mercedes."

"Hi," the girl replied. "Lane said that someone new moved in. I hope you like it here."

When they rounded the corner to one-ten's back patio, Jane, a slender brunette, and a stocky woman with black hair and a nose ring holding an infant were seated at a round table under a brightly colored umbrella. A bald fellow manning a large barrel-shaped barbeque grill carefully watched burgers, hot dogs, and bratwursts sizzle. A couple of other men, one with long shaggy hair clutching a beer the other with a close cropped cut holding what looked to be a glass of lemonade, were lounging on lawn chairs nearby.

"Hey, Daria, you made it," Jane said when spied the trio. "What's in the bowls?"

"Chili," Daria supplied as she watched Lane and Mercedes placed the bowls on a nearby folding table.

"Great, we can have chili dogs," nose ring said.

"And coleslaw," added Lane after peeking inside the bowl he had carried.

"With slaw burgers," she continued. "Major score."

"Introductions I guess," Jane said. "Everyone, this is Daria. She just moved in to 108. Beyond that she is a complete mystery. Daria, this is Andrea Tyler and the skinhead manning the grill is her husband, Max. For three more weeks, they're a couple of doors down at 114. They just bought a house a few blocks from here."

"Hey, Daria," A broadly smiling Max said waving a spatula. "Welcome to the neighborhood."

"I'll wait until later to ask what you're running from to hide out in Lawndale," Andrea said from her spot next to Jane.

"She hates it so much here that she refuses to leave," Jane laughed.

Andrea shrugged."It's boring as hell but it is a good place to raise kids."

"This is Sandi," Jane proceeded pointing to the slender brunette. "She's next door at 112."

"Hello," Sandi said in a smooth alto.

"The lanky one keeping the beer company is Jesse." continued Jane.

"Yo," Jesse said with a friendly nod but did not bother to rise from his lawn chair.

"And last but not least my brother, Trent," Jane said. "Except for Dawn and Mirre are inside with the rugrats."

Trent slowly unwound himself from the recliner he was on and stretched out a hand. "Good to meet you, Daria," he drawled.

Daria took the offered hand. "Yeah, same here," she said.

She noticed the wedding band on Trent's other hand. Jesse wore one as well. Sandi and Jane's ring fingers were bare so Dawn and Mirre must be the wives. At least, she thought, I will be spared any matchmaking attempts today.

"Do you live here also?" she asked.

"No," Trent said. "I'm currently stationed at Fort Belvoir over in Virginia. It's not far from here though. Makes it easy to come see everyone. Hopefully, it's a tailgate assignment."

"Tailgate assignment?" asked Daria.

"The last post before retirement," Trent explained. "I've only four years to go to get my twenty in and I just got back from Afghanistan about ten months ago so with a little luck and with the President promising to wind things down over there maybe I can stay in Fort Belvoir until then."

"Not being shot at any more is undoubtedly desirous," Daria replied.

"Well, my MOS is 68D, operating room specialist," Trent said. "Had to dodge the occasional mortar but I've never been shot at fortunately."

"If the army would leave him in one place long enough Trent can finish his BSN," Jane injected. "Grab a chair and relax. "

Daria snagged a bottle of water from a ice filled tub before sitting down between Sandi and Jane just as a compact woman in jeans and a blue sleeveless blouse stepped from the apartment.

"Ah, fresh blood," she said smiling.

"Dawn, Daria," Andrea said.

"Jesse's wife," Jane added.

"A pleasure," beamed Dawn. "I hope we don't scare you away too soon."

Truth be told, Daria thought to herself, I want to run. This is way too many people to deal with at once. At least no one seems to be of the touchy feely, hug and kiss school of social interaction.

"Supper about ready?" asked Dawn.

"Yep," Max replied.

"Round 'em up, Mirre," Dawn called over her shoulder.

Jane pushed herself away from the table. "I'll get some bowls for the chili," she said.

"Need some help?" Daria asked also rising.

Five little girls rushed by them when they opened the door. A tall, very pregnant woman with light blonde hair ungainly followed behind the pack.

"Daria, this is my sister-in-law, Mirre," Jane said. "Mirre, Daria Morgendorffer."

"I am pleased to meet you, Daria," Mirre formally said her pronounced accent betraying her Dutch birth.

"How do you do?" Daria asked.

"I am uncomfortable, hot, miserable, and unbelievably happy," she responded.

"Mirre has always been jealous of me," Jane said lightly. "So she decided to catch up in one fell swoop. Triplets!"

"Wow," Daria said not certain if congratulations or condolences were in order.

"Wow is right," Mirre said. "The next year will without a doubt be hectic."

"Oh, honey, trust me," Jane said hauling bowls from a cabinet. "It doesn't stop being hectic. Grab some spoons from that drawer over there, will ya, Daria?"

"Why do we need spoons and bowls?" Mirre asked.

"Daria brought over some chili," Jane answered. "I think I have some shredded cheese in the 'frig. Would you get it, please, Mirre."

Hours later, the moon bathed the patio in its gentle light while bats darted and stars twinkled overhead. Fireflies flashed their beacons and the leaves of the huge oak rustled contentedly in the cool, welcomed breeze. The bustle of the cookout eased into the satisfied quiet of an evening well spent. The party dwindled until only Daria and Jane remained sipping white wine as they listened to the crickets and frogs serenade them.

"Do you work tomorrow?" Jane asked.

"No, I start Monday," Daria replied. "A fun filled day of watching videos about sexual harassment, corporate culture, and internet security."

"I took the day off myself," said Jane. "The kids and I haven't done anything much so far this summer so I thought we'd do something special this weekend. We're going over to Assateague Island."

"Assateague." repeated Daria. "That's where the wild ponies are, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Jane confirmed. "The girls are nuts about horses. Lane will find something interesting about the tides or ecosystems or something like that."

"Is he really a genius?" asked Daria. "Or is that just a proud momma talking?"

"No, he really is," Jane said. "Teachers keep talking about advancing him several grades but I won't allow it. A ten year-old needs to be with other ten year-olds."

"My school wanted me to skip several grades but Mom wouldn't allow it either," Daria injected.

Jane sat her wine glass down. Daria caught the worried look on her face as she leaned forward. "Do you think that it was the right decision?" she asked naked concern in her voice. "On one hand, I think that being with much older kids would only isolate him or get him into trouble but, on the other hand, if everything in the lower grades is so easy for him, I'm afraid that he'll get bored with school and not live up to his potential."

"Does the school have a 'talented and gifted' program?" Daria asked. "Do they offer advance placement classes at the high school. Are there summer programs in place for bright kids?"

'Yes, all of that," Jane replied. "It's one of the reasons I moved back to Lawndale."

"Than if he were my son, I wouldn't have him skip," she answered. "While he's very charming around adults, I don't know what he's like with children his own age other than Mercedes. Just ensure that he keeps polishing his social skills. Don't let him curl up in his bedroom with a computer the moment school lets out. Sign him up for karate, soccer, baseball or whatever. Have him learn the piano. Keep Sheldon Cooper on television; don't recreate him in your own home."

Jane laughed. "Yeah, that is one of my fears," she said. She took a sip of wine before continuing. "Don't know where he got it from. Not from me and certainly…"

"Not from his father," supplied Daria after a long pause.

"I make it a habit not to say anything negative about my exes," Jane said quietly. "Lane has already figured out the score without me adding my two cents. At least, Trent's always been there for him. Even when he was overseas he'd Skype with Lane almost every day. Him having kids of his own won't change that, I'm sure. He and Lane are very close. Helps that Mirre adores him too."

"I like Lane, also," Daria said.

Jane laughed. "He has that effect."

"You said exes," opened Daria.

"Yeah," Jane laughed humorlessly. "I never was good at picking men. Two husbands and several boyfriends fled the scene over the years. Maybe I was always looking for a daddy instead of a man. I don't know."

"You lost your father when you were young?" Daria asked.

"No," replied Jane. "Well, I guess you can add him to the list of men who left. He was rarely home after I was, oh, six or so. I can count on my fingers the number of birthdays and Christmases he was around the last thirty years."

"That's sad," Daria said.

Jane emptied her glass. "I better lay off the wine. Mommy will already have a carload of kids tomorrow, she doesn't need a hangover as well," she said before turning to Daria's statement. "It is sad but I feel sadder for him. Now that I'm a mother I know that he missed a lot, too much, and he can never get that back. Not that he wants to, probably."

"You and your brother seem close, at least," said Daria.

"Yeah, it's been him and me forever," Jane replied. "He gave up his dream of being a musician to take care of me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Jane started. "I grew up just a few blocks from here but during my freshman year of high school, mommy and daddy forgot to make several house payments so beginning of my sophomore year Trent and I found ourselves tossed out on our asses by the bank. Trent arranged for me to stay with Max's parents for a few months while he joined the army and gained legal custody of me. After that, I lived with him until I went to New York State University on a track scholarship."

"And became a paralegal," said Daria.

Jane laughed again. "No, that came much later," she replied. "First I had to get a BFA, a husband, a son, a divorce, another husband, and twins. About the time I figured out that my second marriage was in a death spiral, I also figured out that I wasn't Picasso and I better find a way to pay the bills ASAP. Being a paralegal doesn't exactly rock my world but the money's decent and the training didn't take too long."

"Life never turns out like you expect," Daria sighed.

"Ain't that the truth, sister," Jane quipped. "But you put on your big girl panties and deal with what is, not what you wanted. So, what's the story of Daria beyond the skimpy outline you gave us earlier?"

"I got too good at shutting people out at too young an age," she replied.

Jane nodded slowly. "You did seem emphatic about Lane joining groups. Voice of experience I take it?"

"I hated the town where we lived but my hopes of leaving got dashed in middle school when Mom got elected Judge," Daria replied. "I was already retreating socially a bit before hand but after that, I just withdrew into a shell and there was nothing interesting enough there to pull me from it."

"Your parents had to notice," Jane said.

"Yes, they did," Daria replied. "But I wasn't getting into trouble, doing drugs, joining gangs, or any of that. My grades were excellent and when I was old enough, I got a job so, other than a halfhearted 'cheer up' occasionally, they thought to leave well enough alone. Maybe they should have done more but as we were still living there, I probably would have only dug in my heels deeper and gone the full-blown Unabomber hermit route."

"Loner looney lady next on Sick, Sad, World," Jane joked.

"What an epitaph that would have been but it wouldn't have surprised me or anyone who knew me at the time," yawned Daria as she rose from the table. "Thank you for inviting me over. I had a good time."

"I'm glad you came," Jane said rising from her chair. "Think you'll be staying here long?"

"All I've ever been good at is leaving," Daria replied. "But I think maybe this time will be different. I hope so."

An hour later, a freshly showered Daria stretched out on her bed with her tablet. Spying a Facebook message, she tapped it open. Butthead posted several pictures from his and Beavis' family trip with their wives and kids last weekend to Six Flags amusement park in San Antonio. Beavis' three and Butthead's one son looked as if they were rambunctious dynamos. The four of them radiated kinetic energy that leaped from the pixels. To Daria's eye, the two wives looked like redneck ex-strippers but both marriages survived a decade so far so there was something there.

Daria scanned through all of the photographs. Two things brought a smile to her. In all of the images, Beavis and Butthead wore Texas State Technical College tee shirts with Blackford-Oakes Construction Company ball caps on their heads. The other was the undeniable adoration that beamed forth like the sun from Butthead's face in any photograph with him and his little girl, Daria.