Oh wow, that was quite the update XD I loved the conversation on the plane.
Ever since the two of them found different romantic partners, I knew that I had to write them overreacting to the news!
Hum! Curiouser and curioser! I can think of a few diva females, but a male who loves to fish? Now that I can't recall.
There actually aren't too many anglers in Twinbrook. But I guess you'll see.
I have a sneaking suspicion we may have seen Hannah's gentleman before...though I may be guessing wrong. Of course, if I am right, I can almost understand why Franco gagged. 
Hmm, seems like you're on to something. Onto the reveal, though!
Chapter 34: Just the Ugly
“Maybe I’m wrong,” said Franco, “I just assumed it to be a certain fisherman.”
“And maybe I just assumed it to be a certain street artist with a bunch of misdemeanors.” said Hannah, “Let’s just say names and see what it is.”
“Okay.” They both took a deep breath.
“Carmen.”
“Tay.”
They both looked at each other in shock. “Oh god, I was right,” they said in unison.
“Gross!” squealed Hannah, “She’s your ex! My sister! And she’s too ugly to be awesome.”
“Ugly is relative. She has lovely eyes, kissable lips, a nice hair color-”
“Scary cheekbones. Can you actually get past that?”
“The right haircut works wonders.”
Carmen always pestered the salon for a special makeover request. She pleaded for the chance to have a coveted Waverly makeover, but when Franco received the ticket, he quietly forwarded it to whoever else was on duty and hung out mixing hair dye in the back for a few hours.
One day, just before they left for university, Franco put on his work uniform only to turn around to his boss sternly staring at him.
“Waverly, no one else wants to deal with Sour Cheeks any more. Give her what she wants from you and hopefully we can get to the makeovers that are actually possible.”
“I guess I know the haircut to flatter that face,” said Franco, “If I don’t come back alive, just call my mum. She handles the wills.”
To Franco’s surprise, Carmen greeted him without slapping him across the face. She shook his hand instead, and Franco instantly knew what to do with her. She still wore the same bobbed hairstyle from high school, with a high-neck Victorian dress and golden-beige, sheepskin boots. What did he have to do? Change it all.
Of course, he didn’t say it to Carmen’s face. “I think there are a few things that would launch you to awesome awesomeness,” he said, adopting her lingo, and remembering how her full lips captivated him when they were young. “You in?”
“I think I’m in for something great,” she said, rubbing her hands together, “Make me feel 20 again!”
He attacked her with the shears and a flat iron. Measuring tape for her pant size. Thick-rimmed glasses with the lenses punched out, just to act as a distraction. High heels, low-cut jeans, shirts in violet, and a foxy bikini for his own amusement.
“Holy hell, Carmen,” he said when he was finished, “You’re hot!”
“Oh come on! You think that covering half my face is the ticket to awesomeness?”
“Angled bangs are in, stop fooling yourself. I think you look far more awesome. I have to love a girl in violet.”
“Yeah, but I know you talk a lot of crap about my cheeks,” she said, “I know that your fashion posse calls me Sour Cheeks. I look just like my dad.
I get it.”
“What if I said that it made you hot?” asked Franco, “I truly apologize for making any bad remarks. It was just a reaction to the breakup, which I guess was my fault too.”
“I love taking you down a peg, Mr. Snobby-pants,” said Carmen, with a slightly-malicious chuckle, “You’re pretty hot yourself when you’re humble.”
“Truce?” asked Franco.
Carmen gave him a hug for the first time since high school. “Truce.”
“So you can’t say that I don’t have my reasons,” said Franco, after showing Hannah the pictures of Carmen’s makeover on his phone, “And I guess there was always some sort of spark between us. She took me to prom, and I still think it was a magical night.”
“Carmen is a self-centered artist drowning in her own ego. She’s perfect for you,” said Hannah, “I guess there is a rational explanation to a lot of this.”
“Don’t even pretend like you can explain thinking that Tay Bayless is just the best guy in Twinbrook. What could even be your excuse?” asked Franco.
“I feel it with him,” she said, “And how is that not rational? Attraction is kind of that.”
“Because he’s older than Pansy. Your dad might have been an elderly playboy, but he had things like charm and good behavior. Tay is neither.”
“But he’s fun! And his fried catfish is to die for.”
“He laughed at your birthday.”
“So does your mum, and we’re cool together.”
“He gets excited over things,” said Franco.
“Didn’t stop you and Pansy at first, did it?”
Franco sat in the airplane seat, fuming, and out of criticisms suitable for polite conversation.
“Just remind her that he’s ugly!” yelled Annette from across the aisle.
“Shut up, mum,” he yelled back, “Besides, it’s not very proper to comment on others’ looks. I stopped it with Carmen and I’m swearing off it now.”
“You’re becoming one of those types?” asked Hannah, “How lame.”
“Are you trying to become Annette the second, in all of her inappropriate glory?” asked Franco.
“Yeah.”
For the rest of the flight, Franco tried to sleep, but the airplane seats kept him upright and awake, along with putting extra strain on his neck. He tried to sleep with pleasant thoughts, about seeing Lily again and getting back to work, about Carmen waiting back home, and of course, the hope that Hannah was just fishing for something really shocking to say to him and was actually pursuing the handsome Luke Whelohff instead.
Franco came home to his wonderful Lily walking around the entire house. His lessons must have worked. He scooped up his little one, saying “Daddy’s back from uni. Did uncle Shark take good care of you?” He expected no response beyond incomprehensible babbling.”
“Sharky has a friend,” she said, in a chipper toddler voice.
“Did Shark teach you to do that?” he asked her.
After a bit of waiting? “Yes.” Lily giggled.
“Now that you can talk, tell uncle Shark that I’m going to kill him for doing that before I did.”
It was true. Shark decided that having a toddler around got a little stale if they couldn’t form words. He sat down Lily for her first conversations.
As it turned out, she learned extremely quickly, eagerly trying to form words and sentences like those her uncle Shark said.
Taking the talking job away from Franco also wasn’t the only misstep Shark made. He also ended up giving her a lot of candy, considering that Lily finally discovered the joys of sweet things.
His third mistake was finding someone who loved candy as much as Lily did.
Jeffrey Castor wasn’t a friend of Shark’s at first. In high school, Shark gave Jeff a good beating for “Kick a Freshman Day.” After he graduated, the two of them were on neutral terms, though Jeffrey admired Shark’s family and the Racket empire greatly. Between his heartlessness and aptitude for technology, Jeffrey held dreams of working for the Rackets and rising to the top of the criminal world, which were never fulfilled. He instead dabbled in blackhat hacking and got a job at the diner as a cover.
Annette quite liked Jeffrey’s recipes and surprising talent for working the grill, but she never envisioned him as a housemate. As both Shark and Jeff got older, they formed a friendship. As Shark managed to do nasty things to the women of Twinbrook and the men of France, Jeffrey asked him for some coaching to do the same, but just to one person. He had a crush on a younger woman and no one else.
Shark’s advice worked, and Jeffrey soon found himself charming the lovely Gena Jones-Brown in four simple steps.
One, just flirt.
Two, stay the night at her place and give her a reason to let you stay.
Three, pay attention to her when she ended up carrying your spawn.
And four, do your part in taking care of the ensuing adorable little niblets.
Shark’s coaching plan ended up cumulating in giving Jeffrey room and board at the Waverly mansion, a great alternative to living with two brothers he hated and a near-immortal fairy dad he hated more. As well-intentioned as Shark was with the deal, it turned out to shatter some plans.
“Eight,” Annette said, “It’s the magic number and Jeffrey puts us there. No outside wife for you, and no nooboo for Hannah. We’re stuck.”
“You know, whatever,” said Franco, “Hannah said that she’s not really looking for a child, and I’m out of the marriage market for a long time now.”
“Admitting defeat to our little bet?” asked Annette.
“Not yet, but I might not get my prize anyways.” The family planned a party that afternoon, for Pansy’s birthday. Time passed quickly and Franco and Annette soon found themselves in a crowd of party guests, including Tay Bayless.
“Looks like we better watch and learn now,” said Annette, “I know you really hope that she’s bluffing. I hope she is too. No way am I letting those ears live on if I can help it.”
But first, it was Pansy’s special day, after all. Her last birthday, the start to the end of a life she may have regretted living. Still in her comfortable maternity sundress and wedding crown and braid, she leaned over to blow out her last candles.
And in spite of everything, Franco couldn’t bear to not give some nice encouragement to his ex-wife as she entered her twilight years. After all, she was Lily’s mother, and a woman he once loved or possibly loved.
Hannah had different thoughts.
Lily just ended up being cute and oblivious.
In the ultimate act of truce, Franco accompanied Pansy to the dresser for a new wardrobe. He knew what she liked and listened carefully to her requests. A practical haircut, flat shoes, and as always, lots of turquoise or aqua or whatever was close.
The smile on Pansy’s face when she exited the closet as a dignified old woman told Franco that part of his life would be right.
The other? Oh so very wrong.
“She was serious,” whispered Franco. He opened a secret compartment to one of the island counters in the nook, to a store of nectar. Expensive nectar to feel fancy with, cheap nectar when you’re too juiced to care, strong nectar for divorces (his clients were pretty good with sympathy gifts). He slogged through the divorce on lounge drinks alone, but seeing Tay and Hannah making out in the corner like hormonal teenagers deserved the strongest nectar he had.
“I’ll, I’ll totally one-up you,” he said, groggy on the nectar.
The next night was rainy and horrible for stargazing, but Franco decided that watching the clouds with Carmen would be just as good as watching the stars.
“You see that star? I don’t either,” said Carmen, “But whatever is up there is telling me that you should give me as many children as I can still have.”
“You really do want that whole mess of kids, huh?” asked Franco.
“You better believe it.”
“Well, lemme take your hand and get started.” He led her to the bathroom, dragging slender Carmen with all the force of his muscle, fat, and sheerly dominant gait.
“Now we can have a kiss away from your annoying brothers,” said Franco, puckering up while Carmen backed away.
“I didn’t mean like that. I meant impersonally having some fun with me in a dark theatre until our DNA meets and a nooboo happens,” said Carmen.
“That’s just not worth it,” said Franco.
“Stop being a Negative Nancy. It’s still woohoo, after all. Feels good for you, feels good for me, and with none of that romantic garbage.”
Eventually, Carmen won the case.
Word Count for this chapter:
1,936Word Count so far:
45,482Hannah and Tay. Not that I don't have a thing for pairing sims with big age gaps together, but the thought of them together still makes me cringe! Hannah, completely out of the blue, got a wish to kiss him one day, and I have a lot of trouble cancelling those wishes. Things just went from there, I guess. There's no accounting for taste.
I never really showed the Jones-Brown/Goode daughter until now, but yeah, that's Gena. She had a decent blend of her parents' genes, and gorgeous dark eyes out of nowhere. Gena was on Franco's potential spouse list, but they never seemed to show interest in each other and I stopped showing interest in Gena until I moved in Jeffrey and had an idea. Their genes meshed fantastically, by the way. All of their kids ranged from gorgeous to indescribably gorgeous.
And as much as I make characters insult Carmen's cheekbones, I don't hate her. Really. The title of the chapter refers to the character's views and not mine. I finally realized that she was uniquely pretty after her makeover. I intensely dislike Harwood's facial structure, but it turned out to be a nice challenge to work with in what would otherwise be an easy makeover. Plus, she got her dad's lovely, coveted mouth, so I was forced to like her in the end.
