Sunset Beach/SuBe Fanfiction
I added Sunset Beach to my interests the other day. For those of you who don't know, Sunset Beach was a short-lived daytime soap that ran on NBC for the 1997 through 1999 calendar years.
It was tongue-in-cheek and over the top, and just loads of fun. It was also much more popular outside the US than it was in the US.
For those of you who do know from Sunset Beach, I bring you this:
Gotta warn you before you start reading: I'm a very hard-core Ben/Meg shipper. And an Annie fan. I've got to take a picture of my Annie Douglas Barbie to use as a SuBe icon. :grinning:
Sunset Beach Parallel Time, Chapter 1 -- "Meg?"
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Spelling, NBC, Bob Guza, yadda yadda
This story follows the Ben/Derek storyline pretty much as it happened, but other events in the Sunset Beach timeline (can anyone say "Martin's Syndrome"?) might not have happened at all.
================
July 11, 1998
Tim Truman swigged at his beer as he tried to block out the sound of the church bells up at the mission. He had just been released from the hospital, and it was Meg's wedding day, only he wasn't the groom. Ben Evans was.
He took another drink as he heard a knock at his motel room door. If he was lucky, it was the visitor he was waiting for. After all, if he couldn't have Meg, he could at least pretend.
"Hi there," She said as he opened the door, "I'm your . . . date. And you would be?"
Tim slowly skimmed his eyes up the hooker's body. She was perfect, in a scandalously form-fitting black dress that showed that she had curves in all the right places. The right height, the right weight, the right hair, the right . . . face?
"Tim Truman? What the hell are you doing in California?" She demanded.
"I followed you here, Meg. You know that." Tim sighed. Bad enough he had to listen to the wedding bells announcing his former fiancee's wedding to another man . . .
"You followed me? Five years later?"
"What do you mean five years? I wasn't behind you by more than a month."
"You're not making any sense."
He snorted. "You're not making a whole lot of sense either."
She sat down and motioned for him to do the same. "How long have you been on my trail?"
"On your trail? Meg, you just moved here a year and a half ago from Kansas when you left me at the altar."
Meg began hooting with laughter. It took several minutes for her to calm back down. "You thought that I'd marry you?" She started laughing again. "What have *you* been smoking?"
"That's not funny." Tim responded, hurt.
He continued. "Right after college? We got engaged? You'd met some guy over the Internet, and left me the day of our wedding to come here to meet the guy." He watched her face as he recapped for her, but saw no recognition. "None of this sounds familiar to you?"
She shook her head. "Tim." She said, as if she was talking to a feeble-minded person, "I ran away from my Aunt Lois's house five years ago. I haven't been back to Ludlow since."
"If you ran away from your aunt's house in Oregon five years ago, who's marrying Ben Evans today?"
* * *
"Mom, am I rushing things?" Meg, dressed in a beautiful white gown, asked her mother.
"Of course not, darling. You've known Ben for three years, and been engaged for six months. That's perfectly fine."
Meg sighed. She hadn't meant getting married too soon, so much as not putting enough time into preparing for the wedding. She was pretty sure that getting married quickly in between crises less than a week after your future brother-in-law's death must be a bad omen. Or something.
Her sister, Sara, and best friends, Gabi and Vanessa were waiting outside of the sanctuary in their bridesmaids' gowns, giggling like teenagers. Ben had just told them that the wedding reception was all set up on the island that Ben had really given to Meg, and not the island that Derek and Grogan had set up for their deaths.
Hank had come to pick Meg up for the processional. His eyes misted as he saw his daughter in her beautiful sleeveless gown. He held out his arm and she took it as she and her parents left the room together.
They walked through the corridors to the entrance of the church, where Joan took the place in front of Meg's attendants, and Hank and Meg took up their position behind the attendants. Then Casey escorted Joan to her seat, and then Sara, then Gabi, then Vanessa walked into the sanctuary to Pachelbel's "Canon in D." Then, as the first chords of the "Wedding March" played, the entire assemblage came to their feet to watch Meg and Hank as they walked down the aisle.
Meg positively glowed with joy. She was finally going to be with her "SB" forever. It seemed that she'd loved Ben Evans for her whole life. As she saw him waiting for her at the end of the aisle, she began weeping tears of happiness.
"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" Antonio asked.
"Her mother and I do." Hank spoke out proudly.
"You may be seated." Antonio said to the congregation, who sat down with a collective rustling sound.
Hank pulled back the blusher on Meg's veil and kissed her, then put her hand in Ben's and sat down.
"Does anyone here present know of any just cause why these two should not be united in matrimony? If so, speak now or forever hold your peace." Antonio intoned.
Just then, Tim burst into the room. "Stop the wedding!"
Meg sighed and stamped her size-five foot. "Tim! Stop it!"
"Father Antonio," there was pleading in Tim's blue eyes. "I have, whatchacallit, just cause. This woman," he pointed at Meg, "is **not** Meg Cummings!"
The congregation responded to Tim's announcement with a great deal of muttering and whispering.
"Quiet!" Antonio called out and the congregation immediately silenced. "You were saying, Tim?" He prompted.
"She isn't Meg Cummings. Meg!" He called out. "You can come in now."
Meg and Ben rolled their eyes, sighing at what they believed to be yet another dramatic scheme to win Meg back. But they got the shock of their lives when a mirror image of Meg walked into the room, wearing a black dress as skimpy as Meg's bridal gown was elegant.
The Meg in black strutted up the center aisle with a defiant air.
The Meg in white's eyes went round and her complexion paled to match her dress. "It's like looking into a mirror." She whispered to Ben.
"Tim really outdid himself this time." Ben muttered back. "And I thought the fake Maria he brought to your birthday party was convincing."
"Meg," Tim addressed the Meg in white. "What's the earliest thing you remember?"
The Meg in white snorted at this. "I remember everything. Our childhood together in Ludlow, growing up with the Cummingses. . ."
"Ah-ha!" Tim exclaimed. "Why did you just call your family by their last name?"
"This is getting ridiculous," Ben said. "Can we just get on with this, please?" He asked Antonio.
"No." Tim asserted himself. "I need to know why Meg called her family by their last name. Come on, Meg. Tell me. What's the earliest thing you remember?"
Tim's eyes, eyes that she once loved so much, prompted the Meg in white to respond strictly honestly. "Waking up in the hospital after the surgery."
Another wave of mumbling rolled through the congregation.
"Surgery?" Ben asked. "What surgery?"
In a rustle of satin, Meg sat on the dais, rubbing her face with her hands. "Reconstructive surgery after the train wreck five years ago."
Antonio intervened then. "Could everyone except the participants in this . . . conversation . . . and Mr. and Mrs. Cummings, and Sara, please leave the sanctuary? Thank you."
It took a moment for the congregation to file out of the room, but once they were gone, those remaining in the sanctuary moved over to the pews, in small groups. Ben, the Meg in white, and Antonio sat together, Joan, Hank and Sara sat separately but nearby, and Tim and the Meg in black sat a few feet away from the others.
It hurt Tim to see the woman he loved in so much pain, but he knew that in order to put things right, he had to go forward with this. "Meg." He addressed the Meg in black, "tell them what you told me on the way over here."
The Meg in black glanced over at Hank and Joan. "When you sent me to spend the summer with Aunt Lois, back in 1993, I ran away. But you know that already. I hitchhiked my way through California, and when I met a man named JoJo Grimes. He . . . gave me a job. I was so tired of being Meg Cummings, the good little girl from Kansas, so I walked out onto the fishing pier at Cabrillo Beach and threw my wallet into the ocean. Money and all. I took the . . . job that JoJo offered me, and I never looked back. Until today, when I saw Tim again for the first time in five years."
Hank and Joan looked stunned, but Ben was the only person who spoke. "I don't know who you are," he addressed the Meg in black, "but I do know that Tim put you up to this."
"No, he didn't." The Meg in black responded. "When Tim told me that I'd actually agreed to," she chortled, "marry him, I just had to come and see what kind of person took over my life. And I've gotta say that she," she pointed at the Meg in white, "looks just like the kind of daughter that they," she indicated Hank and Joan with a jerk of her head, "would want."
"Meg, honey," Joan addressed the Meg in white. "Please tell us that this is some kind of sick joke that Tim's playing."
Tears welled up in the Meg in white's eyes. "I can't, Mom. I do remember more. Ever since I came here to Sunset Beach, bits of memory have returned to me. But I've never told anyone what I remembered. I was too afraid."
"Afraid of what?" Ben asked reassuringly.
"Of them finding out that I'm not really their daughter." Now the Meg in white began crying openly. "I remember the night that I woke up on the beach." She choked out.
Hank, Joan and Sara gave a collective gasp.
"I woke up, soaking wet. I couldn't remember anything, and I could feel a bruise on the side of my head. I got to my feet and looked around. I didn't see anything I recognized. All of the buildings, the pier, even the ocean, looked unfamiliar to me.
"As I stood there, the surf brought up a wallet. I picked it up, thinking it might have been mine. I walked to a streetlight and looked at the driver's license. A Kansas driver's license for a Margaret Cummings of Ludlow, Kansas. It must be me, I thought. I looked at my reflection in a window, and it *looked* like the same face as on the driver's license.
"So I thought that the answers might lie in Kansas. If I could just get to Kansas, I'd find out who I was, and where I came from. There was some money in the wallet, but I didn't know how much *anything* cost, much less how much a ticket to Kansas cost. From wherever I was.
"I seemed to know somehow that trains were cheaper than airplanes. I knew a lot of things like that. Practical things. Like what McDonald's serves for breakfast.
"So, I hitched a ride to the train station in Anaheim. There was enough in the wallet to cover train fare to Kansas City and still buy myself a clean dress. They told me that Kansas City was the closest station to Ludlow.
"I remember up to when they announced Topeka. The next thing I know, I was wrapped in bandages, and I couldn't remember anything of my past."
Ben wrapped an arm consolingly around the Meg in white, and she put her head on his shoulder, crying. "Hank? Joan? Does this make any sense to you?"
He needn't have asked that question, for Hank and Joan wore identical dazed expressions, their faces equally pale, as they nodded slowly in unison.
"It was the summer after Meg's senior year of high school," Joan began. "Meg had wanted to work as a camp counselor for a summer camp in Oregon."
The Meg in black snorted derisively at this, and Joan shot her a sharp look.
Then Joan continued. "Camp started in mid-June, and so Meg took the opportunity to visit her aunt Lois. My sister. Well, one day, Lois called me and told me that Meg had disappeared. We all feared that something had happened to her, like she'd been kidnapped. Or worse.
"About a week later, we got a phone call from the police in Auburn. A train had derailed, and they'd identified one of the injured passengers as our daughter, Meg.
"We hurried out there as quickly as we could. When we got to the hospital, they told us that she was still unconscious, and that she had been disfigured in the derailing. She was the right height, the right weight, even the right blood type. And she had Meg's driver's license. We never dreamed that we were stealing another person's child." Joan broke into tears at this point, and Hank and Sara reached over to comfort her.
"But who are you?" Antonio entered into the conversation again. "Can you remember anything else? Anything at all that can help us identify you?" He asked the Meg in white.
"Well, I remember seeing the Times from that morning when I got to the train station." The Meg in white offered. "The date on it was June 12, 1993."
This time it was Antonio and Ben's turn to blanch. "What did you say?" Ben asked.
"June 12, 1993?" She repeated with less certainty.
Ben and Antonio made eye contact. "Could it be?" Ben asked his former brother-in-law.
"I don't know." Antonio replied apprehensively. "I'd better call Ricardo."
"Ricardo?" The Meg in white asked, startled. "Why are you calling him? Have I done something wrong?"
Ben put a reassuring arm around her again. "Antonio isn't calling him in his capacity as a police officer." He said. "It's in a more . . . personal capacity."
The Meg in black stood up. "You're calling a cop?" She yelled. "Is he gonna arrest me or something?"
"Why?" Ben asked. It felt strange to feel this kind of anger at someone who looked so much like the woman he loved. "Are you doing something illegal? Practicing fraud, perhaps?"
"No!" She insisted. "Everything I've said is the complete truth!"
Ben visibly calmed himself down. "Then you have nothing to be afraid of." He said even-temperedly.
The Meg in white shook off Ben's arm and stood up. "This is awful. This is why I never told anyone. I didn't want this to happen." She walked across the sanctuary.
Tim followed her. "Meg." He said.
"Really? Is that who I am?"
"It's who you are to me. And to Mr. and Mrs. Cummings. And Sara."
The Meg in white was touched by Tim's sincerity and she threw her arms around him. Ben stood to intervene, but Hank placed a hand on his arm, restraining him.
Ben watched helplessly as the woman he loved cried in the arms of the man who was once a rival for his affections.
"You're my oldest friend, Tim." The Meg in white said, not realizing that she'd left mascara stains on Tim's shirt and that she had smears under her eyes that made her look like a raccoon.
Tim and Ben thought she'd never looked lovelier.
"You know that?" She asked. "My oldest friend." She buried her head against his shirt again.
Then, Antonio came into the room, and whispered to the four people still left in the pews, "Ricardo's on his way. We can get to the bottom of this once and for all."
Hank asked. "The bottom of what?"
Ben and Antonio looked at each other again, and Ben answered the question. "We think she might be my wife. Maria."
"What could possibly give you that idea?" Joan asked, indignant.
"The date she gave, June 12, 1993? That was the day after Maria disappeared."
They sat silently, except for the sound of the Meg in white crying against Tim's shirt, until Ricardo arrived a few minutes later.
Ricardo glanced uneasily over at the Meg in white and Tim, then looked startled when he noticed the Meg in black. "You called, bro?" He asked Antonio, glancing quickly back at the Meg in black.
Antonio nodded and he and Ben took Ricardo to one side. "We think that Meg," he indicated the Meg in white on the other side of the sanctuary, "might actually be Maria."
"What?" Ricardo nearly yelled. "Where did you get an idea like that?"
The detective's brother and brother-in-law recapped the afternoon's events for him. After they were done, Ricardo let out a low whistle. "It sounds possible." Ricardo had a sudden, manic urge to giggle. "Let's take her down to the station, and I can run some fingerprints for you. Then we'll know for sure."
Antonio went over to the Meg in white and Tim. "Meg?" He asked quietly. "We've been talking, and we might have a way to find out who you are."
"Really?" The Meg in white sounded like she hardly dared believe it.
"Yes. You might want to sit down, though."
Looking befuddled, the Meg in white sat in one of the front pews.
"We think that you might be . . . Maria."
"No." The Meg in white responded. "Uh-uh. No way." Her voice grew in volume. "I couldn't be her." Then louder still. "I'd know, wouldn't I? Hell, you'd know! Ricardo would know! Madame freaking Carmen would know! Ben would certainly know!" Her last sentence echoed into the expanse of the nearly-empty sanctuary.
"It's all right." Antonio said in his most reassuring tone. "We aren't saying for sure. It's just an idea. The date you gave was the day after Maria's disappearance."
The Meg in white sat silent, stunned by this statement. "I guess . . ." was all she could manage.
"Come on." Antonio stood and held out a hand to support her as she stood up. "Let's go and get you changed back into your street clothes and then I'll drive you to the police station."
He spoke to the others assembled in the sanctuary. "You all go on to the station. Meg and I will follow after she gets changed out of this dress."
The others started to leave, but Tim hung around. "You, too, Tim."
"Are you sure? 'Cause I could . . ."
"Yes. We're sure." The Meg in white responded. "Thank you for being there for me." She smiled at him.
He smiled back. "Anytime." He then hurried to catch up to the Meg in black.
"Come on," Antonio said to Meg. "The sooner we get changed into regular clothes, the sooner we'll have an answer to this mystery."
"Hey!" Tim called out to the Meg in black.
She slowed to a stop. "Look, Tim . . ."
"I know." He smiled. "You don't have much interest in hanging around at the police station."
"Yeah."
"So, why don't you give me a call . . ."
She rolled her eyes.
"And I'll tell you how everything works out." He finished.
"Yeah. I'd like that. Tell Maria, or whoever, that I wished her the best, okay?" With those words, the Meg in black disappeared into the darkness.
* * *
They walked back from the police station the long way, sharing a strangely companionable silence. By the time they got to the pier, the sun was rising.
"I never get tired of watching the sun rise." She said.
"Or setting," He grinned at her.
She smiled back. It was the first smile they'd shared since Tim interrupted their wedding.
"Do you really think I'm Maria?" She asked.
He shrugged. "If you are, I won't be surprised, but I'm not counting on it, either."
"Why won't you be surprised?"
He stepped more quickly to pass her up, then swung around, taking her in his arms. "Because, you are the woman I love. The woman I've loved since the day I first met her on-line, Miss Dorothy. And I certainly feel that I've loved you longer than that, so it would make perfect sense if I have."
"Ah." She responded with a smile, kissing him lightly on the lips. Then she broke his grasp and took his hand, and they continued walking. "So, when did Ricardo say they'd have the results of the fingerprints?"
His cell phone rang, and he reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled it out. "Right about now," he replied as he glanced at the caller I.D.
"Ben Evans." He said as he pressed the 'talk' button on the phone. "Ah, yes, Ricardo." He met her eyes and smiled at her. "Oh, you do? All right." He handed the phone to her. "He asked to speak to you."
She took the phone. The sweat that had suddenly formed on her palms nearly made her drop the phone into the sand. "Hello?"
"You do?" She looked at him and crossed her fingers. "It is? All right. Thank you, Ricardo." She pressed the 'end' button and handed the phone back to him.
"So?" He asked.
"It's a perfect match." She responded. "I am Maria Torres."
"Maria Torres Evans." Ben corrected her.
"You had me declared dead, remember?" She kidded him. "That's the same as getting a divorce, and I took my maiden name back." She flounced away haughtily.
"Oh, a divorce, eh? Well, then we'll have to get remarried as quickly as we possibly can." He swept her up in his arms.
"I suppose that could be arranged." Maria feigned disinterest, only to find herself being kissed soundly by Ben.
"Will you marry me again, Miss Torres?" He asked.
"Yes. Ben Evans. I will marry you again."
And with that promise, Ben Evans carried Maria Torres into the sunrise.
And they lived soapily ever after.
It was tongue-in-cheek and over the top, and just loads of fun. It was also much more popular outside the US than it was in the US.
For those of you who do know from Sunset Beach, I bring you this:
Gotta warn you before you start reading: I'm a very hard-core Ben/Meg shipper. And an Annie fan. I've got to take a picture of my Annie Douglas Barbie to use as a SuBe icon. :grinning:
Sunset Beach Parallel Time, Chapter 1 -- "Meg?"
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Spelling, NBC, Bob Guza, yadda yadda
This story follows the Ben/Derek storyline pretty much as it happened, but other events in the Sunset Beach timeline (can anyone say "Martin's Syndrome"?) might not have happened at all.
================
July 11, 1998
Tim Truman swigged at his beer as he tried to block out the sound of the church bells up at the mission. He had just been released from the hospital, and it was Meg's wedding day, only he wasn't the groom. Ben Evans was.
He took another drink as he heard a knock at his motel room door. If he was lucky, it was the visitor he was waiting for. After all, if he couldn't have Meg, he could at least pretend.
"Hi there," She said as he opened the door, "I'm your . . . date. And you would be?"
Tim slowly skimmed his eyes up the hooker's body. She was perfect, in a scandalously form-fitting black dress that showed that she had curves in all the right places. The right height, the right weight, the right hair, the right . . . face?
"Tim Truman? What the hell are you doing in California?" She demanded.
"I followed you here, Meg. You know that." Tim sighed. Bad enough he had to listen to the wedding bells announcing his former fiancee's wedding to another man . . .
"You followed me? Five years later?"
"What do you mean five years? I wasn't behind you by more than a month."
"You're not making any sense."
He snorted. "You're not making a whole lot of sense either."
She sat down and motioned for him to do the same. "How long have you been on my trail?"
"On your trail? Meg, you just moved here a year and a half ago from Kansas when you left me at the altar."
Meg began hooting with laughter. It took several minutes for her to calm back down. "You thought that I'd marry you?" She started laughing again. "What have *you* been smoking?"
"That's not funny." Tim responded, hurt.
He continued. "Right after college? We got engaged? You'd met some guy over the Internet, and left me the day of our wedding to come here to meet the guy." He watched her face as he recapped for her, but saw no recognition. "None of this sounds familiar to you?"
She shook her head. "Tim." She said, as if she was talking to a feeble-minded person, "I ran away from my Aunt Lois's house five years ago. I haven't been back to Ludlow since."
"If you ran away from your aunt's house in Oregon five years ago, who's marrying Ben Evans today?"
* * *
"Mom, am I rushing things?" Meg, dressed in a beautiful white gown, asked her mother.
"Of course not, darling. You've known Ben for three years, and been engaged for six months. That's perfectly fine."
Meg sighed. She hadn't meant getting married too soon, so much as not putting enough time into preparing for the wedding. She was pretty sure that getting married quickly in between crises less than a week after your future brother-in-law's death must be a bad omen. Or something.
Her sister, Sara, and best friends, Gabi and Vanessa were waiting outside of the sanctuary in their bridesmaids' gowns, giggling like teenagers. Ben had just told them that the wedding reception was all set up on the island that Ben had really given to Meg, and not the island that Derek and Grogan had set up for their deaths.
Hank had come to pick Meg up for the processional. His eyes misted as he saw his daughter in her beautiful sleeveless gown. He held out his arm and she took it as she and her parents left the room together.
They walked through the corridors to the entrance of the church, where Joan took the place in front of Meg's attendants, and Hank and Meg took up their position behind the attendants. Then Casey escorted Joan to her seat, and then Sara, then Gabi, then Vanessa walked into the sanctuary to Pachelbel's "Canon in D." Then, as the first chords of the "Wedding March" played, the entire assemblage came to their feet to watch Meg and Hank as they walked down the aisle.
Meg positively glowed with joy. She was finally going to be with her "SB" forever. It seemed that she'd loved Ben Evans for her whole life. As she saw him waiting for her at the end of the aisle, she began weeping tears of happiness.
"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" Antonio asked.
"Her mother and I do." Hank spoke out proudly.
"You may be seated." Antonio said to the congregation, who sat down with a collective rustling sound.
Hank pulled back the blusher on Meg's veil and kissed her, then put her hand in Ben's and sat down.
"Does anyone here present know of any just cause why these two should not be united in matrimony? If so, speak now or forever hold your peace." Antonio intoned.
Just then, Tim burst into the room. "Stop the wedding!"
Meg sighed and stamped her size-five foot. "Tim! Stop it!"
"Father Antonio," there was pleading in Tim's blue eyes. "I have, whatchacallit, just cause. This woman," he pointed at Meg, "is **not** Meg Cummings!"
The congregation responded to Tim's announcement with a great deal of muttering and whispering.
"Quiet!" Antonio called out and the congregation immediately silenced. "You were saying, Tim?" He prompted.
"She isn't Meg Cummings. Meg!" He called out. "You can come in now."
Meg and Ben rolled their eyes, sighing at what they believed to be yet another dramatic scheme to win Meg back. But they got the shock of their lives when a mirror image of Meg walked into the room, wearing a black dress as skimpy as Meg's bridal gown was elegant.
The Meg in black strutted up the center aisle with a defiant air.
The Meg in white's eyes went round and her complexion paled to match her dress. "It's like looking into a mirror." She whispered to Ben.
"Tim really outdid himself this time." Ben muttered back. "And I thought the fake Maria he brought to your birthday party was convincing."
"Meg," Tim addressed the Meg in white. "What's the earliest thing you remember?"
The Meg in white snorted at this. "I remember everything. Our childhood together in Ludlow, growing up with the Cummingses. . ."
"Ah-ha!" Tim exclaimed. "Why did you just call your family by their last name?"
"This is getting ridiculous," Ben said. "Can we just get on with this, please?" He asked Antonio.
"No." Tim asserted himself. "I need to know why Meg called her family by their last name. Come on, Meg. Tell me. What's the earliest thing you remember?"
Tim's eyes, eyes that she once loved so much, prompted the Meg in white to respond strictly honestly. "Waking up in the hospital after the surgery."
Another wave of mumbling rolled through the congregation.
"Surgery?" Ben asked. "What surgery?"
In a rustle of satin, Meg sat on the dais, rubbing her face with her hands. "Reconstructive surgery after the train wreck five years ago."
Antonio intervened then. "Could everyone except the participants in this . . . conversation . . . and Mr. and Mrs. Cummings, and Sara, please leave the sanctuary? Thank you."
It took a moment for the congregation to file out of the room, but once they were gone, those remaining in the sanctuary moved over to the pews, in small groups. Ben, the Meg in white, and Antonio sat together, Joan, Hank and Sara sat separately but nearby, and Tim and the Meg in black sat a few feet away from the others.
It hurt Tim to see the woman he loved in so much pain, but he knew that in order to put things right, he had to go forward with this. "Meg." He addressed the Meg in black, "tell them what you told me on the way over here."
The Meg in black glanced over at Hank and Joan. "When you sent me to spend the summer with Aunt Lois, back in 1993, I ran away. But you know that already. I hitchhiked my way through California, and when I met a man named JoJo Grimes. He . . . gave me a job. I was so tired of being Meg Cummings, the good little girl from Kansas, so I walked out onto the fishing pier at Cabrillo Beach and threw my wallet into the ocean. Money and all. I took the . . . job that JoJo offered me, and I never looked back. Until today, when I saw Tim again for the first time in five years."
Hank and Joan looked stunned, but Ben was the only person who spoke. "I don't know who you are," he addressed the Meg in black, "but I do know that Tim put you up to this."
"No, he didn't." The Meg in black responded. "When Tim told me that I'd actually agreed to," she chortled, "marry him, I just had to come and see what kind of person took over my life. And I've gotta say that she," she pointed at the Meg in white, "looks just like the kind of daughter that they," she indicated Hank and Joan with a jerk of her head, "would want."
"Meg, honey," Joan addressed the Meg in white. "Please tell us that this is some kind of sick joke that Tim's playing."
Tears welled up in the Meg in white's eyes. "I can't, Mom. I do remember more. Ever since I came here to Sunset Beach, bits of memory have returned to me. But I've never told anyone what I remembered. I was too afraid."
"Afraid of what?" Ben asked reassuringly.
"Of them finding out that I'm not really their daughter." Now the Meg in white began crying openly. "I remember the night that I woke up on the beach." She choked out.
Hank, Joan and Sara gave a collective gasp.
"I woke up, soaking wet. I couldn't remember anything, and I could feel a bruise on the side of my head. I got to my feet and looked around. I didn't see anything I recognized. All of the buildings, the pier, even the ocean, looked unfamiliar to me.
"As I stood there, the surf brought up a wallet. I picked it up, thinking it might have been mine. I walked to a streetlight and looked at the driver's license. A Kansas driver's license for a Margaret Cummings of Ludlow, Kansas. It must be me, I thought. I looked at my reflection in a window, and it *looked* like the same face as on the driver's license.
"So I thought that the answers might lie in Kansas. If I could just get to Kansas, I'd find out who I was, and where I came from. There was some money in the wallet, but I didn't know how much *anything* cost, much less how much a ticket to Kansas cost. From wherever I was.
"I seemed to know somehow that trains were cheaper than airplanes. I knew a lot of things like that. Practical things. Like what McDonald's serves for breakfast.
"So, I hitched a ride to the train station in Anaheim. There was enough in the wallet to cover train fare to Kansas City and still buy myself a clean dress. They told me that Kansas City was the closest station to Ludlow.
"I remember up to when they announced Topeka. The next thing I know, I was wrapped in bandages, and I couldn't remember anything of my past."
Ben wrapped an arm consolingly around the Meg in white, and she put her head on his shoulder, crying. "Hank? Joan? Does this make any sense to you?"
He needn't have asked that question, for Hank and Joan wore identical dazed expressions, their faces equally pale, as they nodded slowly in unison.
"It was the summer after Meg's senior year of high school," Joan began. "Meg had wanted to work as a camp counselor for a summer camp in Oregon."
The Meg in black snorted derisively at this, and Joan shot her a sharp look.
Then Joan continued. "Camp started in mid-June, and so Meg took the opportunity to visit her aunt Lois. My sister. Well, one day, Lois called me and told me that Meg had disappeared. We all feared that something had happened to her, like she'd been kidnapped. Or worse.
"About a week later, we got a phone call from the police in Auburn. A train had derailed, and they'd identified one of the injured passengers as our daughter, Meg.
"We hurried out there as quickly as we could. When we got to the hospital, they told us that she was still unconscious, and that she had been disfigured in the derailing. She was the right height, the right weight, even the right blood type. And she had Meg's driver's license. We never dreamed that we were stealing another person's child." Joan broke into tears at this point, and Hank and Sara reached over to comfort her.
"But who are you?" Antonio entered into the conversation again. "Can you remember anything else? Anything at all that can help us identify you?" He asked the Meg in white.
"Well, I remember seeing the Times from that morning when I got to the train station." The Meg in white offered. "The date on it was June 12, 1993."
This time it was Antonio and Ben's turn to blanch. "What did you say?" Ben asked.
"June 12, 1993?" She repeated with less certainty.
Ben and Antonio made eye contact. "Could it be?" Ben asked his former brother-in-law.
"I don't know." Antonio replied apprehensively. "I'd better call Ricardo."
"Ricardo?" The Meg in white asked, startled. "Why are you calling him? Have I done something wrong?"
Ben put a reassuring arm around her again. "Antonio isn't calling him in his capacity as a police officer." He said. "It's in a more . . . personal capacity."
The Meg in black stood up. "You're calling a cop?" She yelled. "Is he gonna arrest me or something?"
"Why?" Ben asked. It felt strange to feel this kind of anger at someone who looked so much like the woman he loved. "Are you doing something illegal? Practicing fraud, perhaps?"
"No!" She insisted. "Everything I've said is the complete truth!"
Ben visibly calmed himself down. "Then you have nothing to be afraid of." He said even-temperedly.
The Meg in white shook off Ben's arm and stood up. "This is awful. This is why I never told anyone. I didn't want this to happen." She walked across the sanctuary.
Tim followed her. "Meg." He said.
"Really? Is that who I am?"
"It's who you are to me. And to Mr. and Mrs. Cummings. And Sara."
The Meg in white was touched by Tim's sincerity and she threw her arms around him. Ben stood to intervene, but Hank placed a hand on his arm, restraining him.
Ben watched helplessly as the woman he loved cried in the arms of the man who was once a rival for his affections.
"You're my oldest friend, Tim." The Meg in white said, not realizing that she'd left mascara stains on Tim's shirt and that she had smears under her eyes that made her look like a raccoon.
Tim and Ben thought she'd never looked lovelier.
"You know that?" She asked. "My oldest friend." She buried her head against his shirt again.
Then, Antonio came into the room, and whispered to the four people still left in the pews, "Ricardo's on his way. We can get to the bottom of this once and for all."
Hank asked. "The bottom of what?"
Ben and Antonio looked at each other again, and Ben answered the question. "We think she might be my wife. Maria."
"What could possibly give you that idea?" Joan asked, indignant.
"The date she gave, June 12, 1993? That was the day after Maria disappeared."
They sat silently, except for the sound of the Meg in white crying against Tim's shirt, until Ricardo arrived a few minutes later.
Ricardo glanced uneasily over at the Meg in white and Tim, then looked startled when he noticed the Meg in black. "You called, bro?" He asked Antonio, glancing quickly back at the Meg in black.
Antonio nodded and he and Ben took Ricardo to one side. "We think that Meg," he indicated the Meg in white on the other side of the sanctuary, "might actually be Maria."
"What?" Ricardo nearly yelled. "Where did you get an idea like that?"
The detective's brother and brother-in-law recapped the afternoon's events for him. After they were done, Ricardo let out a low whistle. "It sounds possible." Ricardo had a sudden, manic urge to giggle. "Let's take her down to the station, and I can run some fingerprints for you. Then we'll know for sure."
Antonio went over to the Meg in white and Tim. "Meg?" He asked quietly. "We've been talking, and we might have a way to find out who you are."
"Really?" The Meg in white sounded like she hardly dared believe it.
"Yes. You might want to sit down, though."
Looking befuddled, the Meg in white sat in one of the front pews.
"We think that you might be . . . Maria."
"No." The Meg in white responded. "Uh-uh. No way." Her voice grew in volume. "I couldn't be her." Then louder still. "I'd know, wouldn't I? Hell, you'd know! Ricardo would know! Madame freaking Carmen would know! Ben would certainly know!" Her last sentence echoed into the expanse of the nearly-empty sanctuary.
"It's all right." Antonio said in his most reassuring tone. "We aren't saying for sure. It's just an idea. The date you gave was the day after Maria's disappearance."
The Meg in white sat silent, stunned by this statement. "I guess . . ." was all she could manage.
"Come on." Antonio stood and held out a hand to support her as she stood up. "Let's go and get you changed back into your street clothes and then I'll drive you to the police station."
He spoke to the others assembled in the sanctuary. "You all go on to the station. Meg and I will follow after she gets changed out of this dress."
The others started to leave, but Tim hung around. "You, too, Tim."
"Are you sure? 'Cause I could . . ."
"Yes. We're sure." The Meg in white responded. "Thank you for being there for me." She smiled at him.
He smiled back. "Anytime." He then hurried to catch up to the Meg in black.
"Come on," Antonio said to Meg. "The sooner we get changed into regular clothes, the sooner we'll have an answer to this mystery."
"Hey!" Tim called out to the Meg in black.
She slowed to a stop. "Look, Tim . . ."
"I know." He smiled. "You don't have much interest in hanging around at the police station."
"Yeah."
"So, why don't you give me a call . . ."
She rolled her eyes.
"And I'll tell you how everything works out." He finished.
"Yeah. I'd like that. Tell Maria, or whoever, that I wished her the best, okay?" With those words, the Meg in black disappeared into the darkness.
* * *
They walked back from the police station the long way, sharing a strangely companionable silence. By the time they got to the pier, the sun was rising.
"I never get tired of watching the sun rise." She said.
"Or setting," He grinned at her.
She smiled back. It was the first smile they'd shared since Tim interrupted their wedding.
"Do you really think I'm Maria?" She asked.
He shrugged. "If you are, I won't be surprised, but I'm not counting on it, either."
"Why won't you be surprised?"
He stepped more quickly to pass her up, then swung around, taking her in his arms. "Because, you are the woman I love. The woman I've loved since the day I first met her on-line, Miss Dorothy. And I certainly feel that I've loved you longer than that, so it would make perfect sense if I have."
"Ah." She responded with a smile, kissing him lightly on the lips. Then she broke his grasp and took his hand, and they continued walking. "So, when did Ricardo say they'd have the results of the fingerprints?"
His cell phone rang, and he reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled it out. "Right about now," he replied as he glanced at the caller I.D.
"Ben Evans." He said as he pressed the 'talk' button on the phone. "Ah, yes, Ricardo." He met her eyes and smiled at her. "Oh, you do? All right." He handed the phone to her. "He asked to speak to you."
She took the phone. The sweat that had suddenly formed on her palms nearly made her drop the phone into the sand. "Hello?"
"You do?" She looked at him and crossed her fingers. "It is? All right. Thank you, Ricardo." She pressed the 'end' button and handed the phone back to him.
"So?" He asked.
"It's a perfect match." She responded. "I am Maria Torres."
"Maria Torres Evans." Ben corrected her.
"You had me declared dead, remember?" She kidded him. "That's the same as getting a divorce, and I took my maiden name back." She flounced away haughtily.
"Oh, a divorce, eh? Well, then we'll have to get remarried as quickly as we possibly can." He swept her up in his arms.
"I suppose that could be arranged." Maria feigned disinterest, only to find herself being kissed soundly by Ben.
"Will you marry me again, Miss Torres?" He asked.
"Yes. Ben Evans. I will marry you again."
And with that promise, Ben Evans carried Maria Torres into the sunrise.
And they lived soapily ever after.