Thanks for the nice reviews on You're Not Superman, C.D. Anders and you.
Thanks for all the great reviews.
Notes – John Jameson has a small part in this, because I feel a little bad for the guy. But not so bad that I think M.J. should have married him…oh no. He was a little too perfect in SM2. I mean he seemed decent enough in the movie, but I don't feel that sorry for him when M.J. left him at the alter.
Not that this has any effect on the story, but Peter lives in the ramshackle apartment he has in SM2.
The baby's father was Eric Watson.
By typing in some of the names of the members of her family along with birth dates, Mary Jane was able to find out some information about her family history. So she was wrong about the baby's real father.
M.J. wasn't sure if she was relieved or saddened at that fact.
From the dates, pieces of the puzzle really began to fit together. Eric and Anna married Christmas of 1865 like the diary said. Anna's son, John Watson was born October 1866, about ten months after the wedding. Unfortunately, Anna had died in October 1866.
Staring at the screen, Mary Jane wondered if she could find out anything else. But not about her family.
Typing Peter's name, along with his aunt and uncle's she waited to see if anything would come up. M.J. wished she could remember the names of Peter's parents. She was sure she had heard them before. The screen came up with a countless amount of names.
Sighing, M.J. didn't feel like going on a wild goose chase. She had been able to narrow her search when she did her family because she had more information to go on.
Getting up she went outside to get a cab. So, John Watson was really the son of Eric and Anna. There was no blood relation to Jon Parker what so ever. Finally a cab stopped.
Mary Jane didn't even remember the ride home. Tiredly she came into her apartment. She should be happy that she solved the baby mystery, but the disappearance of Jon Parker left so much unanswered. Anna never said what became of Jon when he left. Where did you go after leaving Anna?
Passing the answering machine, M.J. glanced at the blinking light, letting her know that she had a message. I'll check it later. I feel like I am ready to drop.
And drop she did once she got to her bed. She didn't even bother taking her shoes off. Closing her eyes, M.J. was asleep in a instant.
Sunlight filling through Mary Jane's window woke her. Turning her head away, M.J. saw that it was about 4:00 in the afternoon. She had gotten five hours of sleep at least.
Mary Jane hoped she wouldn't fall asleep or yawn during her modeling shoot tomorrow. She should go to bed early tonight to make sure that she got enough rest. Part of her wanted to close her eyes and go back to sleep, but Mary Jane had to get up. Once up she walked out of her room, toward the living room.
Hand combing her red hair, M.J. hit the answering machine's Play button to hear her message. Going to get a glass of water, she stopped when she heard a familiar voice.
"Hi, M.J., it's Peter."
"You have perfect timing, don't you?" She questioned the machine. He must have been the one trying to call this morning.
"I just wanted to wish you good luck with your modeling shoot tomorrow."
Against her will, her lips turned up in a small smile. Peter must have seen or talked to his aunt to get that information. She hadn't even told Harry Osborn, another friend, about the job.
"Maybe we could do something…sometime." Peter's voice got quiet at the last word. He paused for a second. "Can you call me back when you get in?"
He paused again, this time it was longer. Mary Jane wasn't sure if she heard anything in the background on the machine, but Peter must have. "Well, uh, break a leg tomorrow, M.J. Bye." With that machine ended the message.
Looking down at the machine M.J. stared at it, Break a leg? Peter, that's for acting! She scolded her friend mentally.
Mary Jane picked up the phone to return the call. It rang three times, with no answer. By the sixth ring, she figured that Peter wasn't home. That, and he didn't have an answering machine. She hung up.
Shaking her head from side to side, M.J. spoke out loud as she headed to the kitchen, "You're such a mystery, Peter."
Mary Jane's thoughts went back to the diary. With a glass of water in hand, M.J. picking it up where she had left it on the table, she went out to her small balcony. It wasn't very large, maybe big enough to hold a folding chair and a potted plant.
Sitting down on the cool seat she opened the diary where she left off. The pages were still blank. But it seemed unfinished somehow.
Slowly turning the pages, Mary Jane saw nothing but empty pages. That was until she came across an entry near the end.
May 8, 1888
By reading this diary, I have come to know my husband's
long deceased mother. I have been looking for this diary
for two days. Now that I read it, I understand much of
I guess I should start at the beginning. To start, my
name is Mary Watson. My husband's name is John. This all
began two days before…
May 6, 1888
Going around the library, I felt miserable. Being seven months in pregnant and with May being unusually hot, was not a picnic. I was ready for all of this to end.
Walking, or waddling in my case, I headed for the front door. Maybe there was a light breeze. Any wind, cool hopefully, would be a blessing.
The porch wrapped around the house on the ground floor. Sitting down in a cottoned wicker chair, I let out a breath. I prayed I could get through the next two months like this.
My husband, John loved me just as much now as the day we married. I love him too, with all of my heart. Even with his father's disapproval of me as John's choice of a wife, we still married.
John's father, Eric Watson, had passed away about four months before. He had not been an easy man to live with, but for my husband, I tried. I am not saying that I am glad that John's father is dead, but I feel I can at least live in this house without having to worry about trying to prove myself to the man. After all, I married his son, not him. I feel sorry for John's mother.
My husband told me he had three mothers. John's real mother, the one he never knew, Anastasia, died shortly after his birth. His second mother, Cathleen, married his father when John was two, died of tuberculosis when he was eight. Finally, his third mother, Veronica, married Eric when John was twelve. She left when John was fourteen. With much of Eric Watson's money too.
John does not like to talk about them, but Cathleen was kind, he told me. She loved him like her own son. Veronica on the other hand, despised him. He has never said, but I think John believes Veronica married Eric for his money. As for his mother, Anastasia, he does not know much about her, because his father never mentioned anything. But the one thing he did say was she had kept a diary somewhere.
I can not say that this past year has been easy, but John and I survived it. We will be celebrating our first year anniversary next month. My, how time has flown!
Hearing the rumble of wagon wheels, I stood up and walked to the front steps. In the distance I show a carriage coming toward the house.
Tucking a loose strand of russet hair behind my ear, I carefully made my way down the few front steps we had. Going up and down stairs will be harder to do the next two months.
The wagon stopped some feet away, I could see a man, maybe middle age, and a youth next to him. The older one got down, and said a few words to his companion. The younger man, a teen really, nodded and said something to horses to get them to go. He quickly touched his hat in greeting to me as he passed.
Coming over to me, the man took off his hat. I could see he had graying hair, but much of it was still black. He was tanned, which meant he spent much time outdoors. His eyes were blue, like the sky was now.
"Pardon me for intruding, madam."
"It is no problem. Can I help you with anything?"
"I am sure you wish to be sitting down, before I start to speak, Mrs.?"
"Watson." I started back up the steps, the man took my arm to make sure I did not slip. Once we are on the porch, I thanked him.
Sitting again in a wicker chair, I told him to sit. A maid came out with some cool glasses of ice tea. Taking a sip, I waiting to see what this man wanted.
"Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier, Mrs. Watson. My name is Jonathan Parker. My brother, Matthew, owned a small plantation about twenty miles away."
I remembered Matthew Parker slightly, he had no family to speak of, except a brother who had moved away. "He passed away just a few weeks ago. I am sorry for your loss."
"Thank you, madam."
"You have come to settle things at your brother's estate?" I would guess Jonathan could move into the place if he wanted to.
"Yes, I am doing that. But I do not plan to stay here. I have also come to see old friends."
Assuming Jonathan had been friends with John's father, how could I tell him that he had died?
"Mr. Parker," I started, but he cut me off.
"Please call me Jon."
"Do you live out west where first names are common?" I was curious. I had heard stories about how bad the West was.
Smiling, Jon nodded. "You could say that. We, the boy you saw, is my son, live in Wisconsin."
Wisconsin? It had been a state of the United States long before I was born. Wisconsin could not be called part of the 'Wild West'.
Hearing another wagon coming up the road, I turned to see who was coming to visit. But it was John's carriage. He was coming back from meeting with the bank.
My husband was not alone. John helped an unsteady young man from the coach. It took a minute to see the battered youth was Jon's son.
Just as I had figured this out, Jon had jumped from his seat, and rushed down the steps to his son.
"Derrick, what happened? Are you hurt?"
Walking toward the steps, I was able to hear what the teen said.
"Do not say you are fine." Jon's voice was harsh. I could see his tone was more out of worry then anger.
Derrick definitely was not fine. His one eye was swollen, drying blood was forming on his split lip, and he was holding his left arm close to his chest.
"I was attacked."
"We should let him lie down," John interrupted, speaking to Jon for the first time. Both of them helped Derrick up the steps. My husband had been talking to the driver just before, who now drove to the direction of town. He was going for the doctor, I was sure of it.
Letting the men pass, I could see the Derrick could walk, but he was unsteady on his feet. Had whoever assaulted him gave him a concussion?
Derrick was in one of the downstairs bedrooms. His father was with him. I was going to go get some water and rags to wash Derrick's face when my husband come in and stopped me.
Leading me out of the room, he turned to me. "Mary, I want you to sit down," his tone was the same as always, but it had a no nonsense to it.
"I want to-"
"I will handle it. Please, go sit down. I do not want you on your feet."
Part of me was little angry about being ordered around. But some common sense kicked in. John was worried about my well being, as the well being of our unborn child. Nodding, I went to the drawing to wait for the doctor.
I must have dozed off for a time, because I woke to raised voices.
Unable to hear what was being said, I got up to see what was going on. The child within me kicked, like he or she wanted to know too.
Reaching the door which I had left ajar, I heard Dr. Edwards' voice clearly.
"I will not treat him."
"Whatever I did twenty-three years ago has nothing to do with my son." Jon's angry tone snapped back at the doctor.
"This coming from you? Parker, you turned your back on your family and friends. As well as your responsibly."
"You have no idea-"
"Dr Edwards," John voice cut in. "there is a someone in the other room, injured from being attacked. Why should he suffer for his father's mistakes, as you see it?"
All was quiet, then I heard the doctor's voice. "Yes, you are right. Wait out here, please."
A moment later, I was confronted by my husband and Jon.
"Eavesdropping, Wife? You cease to amaze me." Though John's voice was normal, I could see the mirth in his green eyes. With the tense situation, we all could use a laugh.
Not even brothering to answer that, I thought maybe I could talk with Jon, before he started pacing the floor. "Please, sit." I told him.
John and I sat down on the davenport across from him. Jon's gaze darted to door.
"Jon, you never told us why you are here."
"He said he was looking for some friends, right?" I asked him.
"Yes," Jon started. He looked at John when he spoke again. "I wanted to see if your mother still lived here."
How would he know about John's mother? Did he mean Anastasia, John's real mother?
As if reading my mind, my husband questioned Jon. "Which one do you mean?"
Jon looked puzzled. "Your father had more then one wife?"
I saw the color drain from Jon's face. "So," he cleared his throat. "Your mother, Anastasia, passed away?"
"Yes, when I was born." John paused, then continued, "Did you know my mother?"
"I knew her for a short time."
I looked at Jon. His eyes were filled with sorrow. Oh, my. Had Jon been in love with Anastasia? Yes. I had no doubt about it. It was written on his face.
Looking at my husband, I knew he saw the same thing. But I also saw that he longed to know more about the woman he never knew.
A knock come on the opened door. It was Dr. Edwards. I stood when he came in.
I thought I would check on Derrick while Dr. Edwards talked to my husband and Jon. That and I knew they need to talk, once the doctor was done.
Derrick was laying down just as I saw him last, but his eyes were closed. I did not want to disturb him, so I started to close the door.
"You can stay, if you want."
So the he is not sleeping after all. Walking in, I saw that Dr. Edwards bandaged his left arm and his split lip was clean of any blood. His eye was starting to turn a nice shade of black and blue.
The other eye was wide open, and I saw that Derrick had the same blue eyes as his father. But where Jon's hair was, or once was, black, Derrick's was brown.
"Thank you for helping me." Mentioning toward an empty chair, he said, "Sit, please."
"Everyone wants me to sit." But I smiled so he would know that I was not offended.
"Dr. Edwards says this is the Watson place. You are Mrs. Watson?"
"I am. How did you get hurt earlier?"
"Five men were on foot. I stopped when they got in the middle of the road. They pulled me off the wagon. They were going take it. I tried to stop them, but they got it anyway."
"You are lucky."
"Maybe." Derrick did not should like he believed himself. He closed his eyes.
"Well, your mother will be relieved."
"Right, but she died when I was seven." He replied simply, then he yawned.
Derrick did not seem upset over the fact, that or he was hiding it. "How old are you?"
He seemed younger then that. But I should not say much, I am four years older then he is.
I could hear by his even breathing that he had fallen asleep.
Resting a hand over my stomach, I wondered what my child would be like fifteen years from now.
Now two days later I still am thinking on everything
that happened. Derrick is now at Matthew's, or now his
father's estate. They plan to go back to Wisconsin as
soon as Derrick is well enough.
John did not tell me about the conversation he and Jon
had. But I know he will tell me someday. It is a shamethings
had not worked out differently with Jon and Anna.
Mary Jane wasn't sure if she had answers to all of questions. It just seemed this entry from Mary raised more.
With so much on her mind, Mary Jane got up to go back in her apartment. Wanting to forget all that she learned today, M.J. decided to see if the radio had anything interesting. It would distract her at least temporary.
Turning on the radio, Mary Jane left it on the news station, instead of moving the dial to one of the many music stations.
After hearing the weather was going to be sunny, but cool tomorrow, M.J. was thinking of changing the station when a report on Spider-Man came on.
It told how the masked hero managed to stop someone from committing suicide that morning. The person had been ready to jump, but Spider-Man came and talked to hurting soul. One person didn't end their life today.
The latest report said that the wall crawler helped people from a burning apartment complex this afternoon. He was able to get everyone get out before the roof caved in. Luckily no one was seriously hurt.
At least the news is fair to Spider-Man, Mary Jane thought as she walked back out to her balcony. Tomorrow the Daily Bugle is going to say that he was involved somehow with both incidents.
The ringing of the phone made Mary Jane jump. Quickly getting up, she turned from the balcony into the kitchen to get the phone. Getting it before the machine kicked in, she said a quick "Hello?"
"Hi, honey." John Jameson's voice came over the telephone waves.
"John!" Mary Jane hadn't been expecting her boyfriend to call. Why shouldn't he? She scolded herself. John said he would call a few times when he was out of town.
"How was your day?"
She didn't want to have to pull out her new skeleton from the closet. "Just reading and sleeping. You know the art of doing nothing."
John chuckled. "I'm glad to hear that you had a relaxing day."
Relaxing? Try stressful and tiring. But she kept her thoughts to herself. "How is your training?"
It's going well. They're talking about us going to the moon. That will be an incredible experience."
"That's great." M.J. smiled. She wondered what her boyfriend would say if she said that flying through the city in Spider-Man's arms had been incredible. No, she wouldn't say anything, because she didn't want to repeat the scenario that she had with a former boyfriend, Harry Osborn, with John. She laughed remembering Harry's aggravation at her going on and on about the city's hero.
"What's so funny?"
Thinking quickly she said, "You'll get to see what it's like to play football on the moon now." Good one, M.J., she thought sardonically, that sounded ridiculous.
"Yeah, I will." John chuckled at that. He had joked about playing football on the moon whenever he would go up. "So, are you ready for modeling
"Ready as I'll ever be."
"No, but who knows what tomorrow will bring?" M.J. couldn't help but remember when Peter showed up after that disastrous audition she had about a year ago. But it had been sweet of him to surprise her like that just to see how it went.
"Hey, you ok?" John had asked something, but hadn't gotten a reply to his question.
"Oh, yeah sure. Just thinking."
"What to share?" He wasn't trying to be nosy, but John thought Mary Jane was different tonight.
Share? That was the last thing she needed to do! How would explain her thoughts. "John, I still care for someone else and I can't stop thinking about him." And how do you think John would take that?
In the end all she said was, "Not really, it's something I have to figure out on my own."
"Sure, but you can get my cell if you need to talk." But then John yawned. "I hate to cut this short, but I'm beat."
"That's alright. And I'll call if I need to. Night, John."
"Night, honey. And good luck tomorrow."
"Thanks, good night."
Once she hung up, Mary Jane let her thoughts wonder to all that she had learned from her great grandmother's diary. She felt heartbroken over Anna and Jon's lost love. And yet, maybe relief? Because if they had some how married and had a family, everyone in her family, and maybe Peter's, won't have existed. Or perhaps she and Peter would be some type of cousins.
Feeling a chill, Mary Jane looked over to see that she left her balcony door ajar. Walking over, she was going about to lock it when she had the feeling that she was being watched.
Night had fallen on the city, so she wouldn't be able to see if anyone was watching her. She felt a little paranoid, remembering the night the Green Goblin came through the balcony to kidnap her. She hadn't figured that out until she had gotten home later that night. She had remembered getting ready for bed, but one of her neighbors wanted to talk to her. Once she came back to her apartment she had smelled something that may have been gas and that was all she remembered, until she had come to on the Queensboro Bridge. Though that had been nearly a year ago, she wasn't sure the Goblin was dead. She never heard nor saw him since that night.
That wasn't the only mystery of that night, one small one was the odd message Peter had left on her answering machine. He had sounded…anxious and concerned. The message had been cut short, by someone picking up the phone, or turning the machine off. M.J. hadn't done it, so she only had to guess that it was the Goblin who answered her phone when she was out of it. Had he told Peter to get Spider-Man? She never asked Peter about the message he had left. She wasn't planning to. But that message had given her courage to tell Peter how she felt about him. And she thought he felt the same… And that kiss…
Mary Jane shook herself mentally. Stop it, she scolded herself. Stepping out onto the balcony, she looked out at the city, which was so different by night than by day. Wind blew, making her hair get in her face. Tucking her red hair behind her ear, Mary Jane shivered. It was getting chilly. M.J. decided to go back inside, since she didn't see anyone. Having just turned around toward the door, she stopped. Something had caught her eye. Turning back, M.J. thought she saw a figure some buildings away. Narrowing her eyes, she saw the figure, a man probably, but too far away really to see, though she saw him jump off. Mary Jane gasped, and let out small cry. But he didn't fall far, he shot out a web about half way down and swung away. Now seeing the red and blue figure, Mary Jane thought of one person. Spider-Man.
Smiling, she watched Spidey swing away to wherever he was going to. Had he been watching her? She shook her head. Peter must have thought I was nuts when I told him I was in love with Spider-Man, she mused. But it's Peter, the boy next door, I fell in love with. Mary Jane sighed. She didn't need to think about that, she had John. John, who cared about her. John was there for her.
"Good night, Spider-Man." She said softly, though there was no way the webslinger could hear her. "Hope you have an easy night. And…if you see Peter, tell him I said hi." The wind carried her words away. M.J. knew that Spider-Man had better luck then she of seeing her friend.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she thought, So much for saying you would always be there for me, Peter. I never even get the chance to see you anymore.
With that thought she turned and went back inside, closing the balcony door and locked them.
For the most part Mary Jane was able to put Peter out of mind. As for her relationship with John, it flourished. Mary Jane found she grow fond of him.
Soon after doing her modeling job for Pierre, Mary Jane became the newest and soon poplar model for Emma Rose Perfume. In January, M.J. got a part in a Broadway play called The Importance of Being Ernest.
Everything was looking up for Mary Jane. She had a great boyfriend, she was beginning to live her dream as an actress. But that changed when she went to her best friend's surprise birthday party. Peter's birthday…
Now I really want to see SM2 again! Days in counting – 20
I hope no one is disappointed with how I did this and that this is the end of the story. I may continue this in another one, I do not know.
I hope everyone enjoyed the story. But before you go, please review! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the story. Jenn