Todd Revisited: Renewal (Chapter 30)

Rain poured onto him.  The last time he felt rain on his face was over 8 years ago.  In fact, he couldn't even remember a time all that recent.  Of course, he could remember one night a long time ago, with Marty, outside her home, when he stepped in and gave David Vickers a huge punch or two for trying to take advantage of her.  Stop him from what he did to her, he thought then.  The rain had washed over him then, and it was washing over him now.  It felt so welcome, considering it had been 8 years of confinement.  He made a decision.  The gun, burning an imaginary hole in his pocket, deserved to be thrown into the river forever.  Blair was right; he was not the same man as he was when she saw him last.  He needed to be free of it; and he would throw it into the river, after relishing the cool rain on his face and his freedom. 


That conversation in the rain and by the fire, with Marty, lead him, ultimately, to reuniting with Blair, and marrying her, before he regretfully left to go to Ireland and ended up "dead."  He realized more and more how stupid his decision was, and how foolish, and what it had cost.  Those months in Ireland where all he did was dream, remember and wish were very fresh.  The rain continued to patter onto him, soaking him through, and he lifted his head toward heaven and soaked it in, thinking.  


The strains of familiar music played in the air.  Todd was in his black tux with the gold embroidered vest, and she, walking toward him in St. James, was in her grandmother's gown.  Everything seemed misty and dreamlike; CJ and Sarah, dressed in fancy clothes; Dorian in her red and gold suit; Viki in the same, modest, black outfit she was wearing when she had found him in the tomb that morning.  Cloudy edges blurred the scene in his mind, for he was dreaming, and though he knew he was, he kept on, because this kind of dream was the kind he wanted to dream always.


Soon, they were standing in front of Andrew, hands joined, both wide-eyed with a serious exuberance, sharing their vows.  It had been the most beautiful day of his life.  The clouds closed in around them and he was standing, with her, in the middle of a grand ballroom, decorated in gold, to keep with his promise to shower her with it.  They were dancing, in a circle, and gold balloons were falling all around them amid the cloudiness of the fog.  Cool to the touch, the fog surrounded them, as they smiled and watched the balloons continue to fall.


One blink of an eye, and they were in the foyer of the penthouse; he was carrying her and she was laughing, her head thrown back, her lovely, old-fashioned hairdo losing itself a bit after the long day, and the wisps around her face lengthening.  


"So this is the new you, huh?  A total romantic."  She reached out and touched his face, as she always did.


"Well, why not.  I'm with my one true babe, floating on a cloud all night."


"In our absolutely perfect wedding at the church of St. James."


"I love you Blair."


She paused, and turned, speaking almost in a whisper, "I love you, Todd."


"Welcome home."  He kissed her, and her hand went straight to his cheek, under his hair, then playing with it, as was her way.  This same day he made love to her on the staircase in their private palace, forgetting the world.  He remembered so well letting her dress fall to the steps, and kissing her deeply on top of their universe.


He woke up alone.  It was almost dawn, and he missed her terribly, more than ever before, only because he was that much closer to being with her again.  He got up, pulled on his pants and shirt, and cleared the bed, folding the sheets, placing the pillows neatly on top of themselves, and making all neat and new.  


He went to the table quietly, as not to wake them.   There, he left a note he had written for them.  The note had not taken long, it simply said, "Thank you for saving me, love, your son, Todd," and folded within it was a cashier's check for one million dollars that he had ordered delivered to the cottage days before.  Taking the only other thing that was his, a pressed flower from Lilly, he took one more look inside the cottage.  Tears welled in his eyes as he surveyed the fireplace he had sat by, and the stove where Lilly had prepared his meals, the bed by the window that he had spent the months in, the chair, by the bedside, where they had often kept watch.  He could not turn and walk out.  Instead, he backed himself toward the door, and looking still into the room, he opened the knob and backed out into the sunlight, pulling the door quietly shut and standing, looking at the ivy-trimmed door from the outside.  His next stop was Switzerland to a medical clinic, to be certain he was fully healed.  Then, home.  Home.


Just then, Lilly had run to the door, and put her hand against it.  Aman was not far behind.  "He's gone, Aman."


"Yes love, he's gone."  Aman said, placing his large, comforting hand on her shoulder.  


She leaned her head against the door.  "Aman, is he going to be all right?"


Aman breathed in a large breath and sighed.  "I don't know, woman.  I want to believe the best for him, I truly do."


Todd had backed onto the front landing, and still looking at the cottage, finally turned to walk off.  The sun was streaming onto him, warm and welcome, and he knew the path well, for Aman had taken him this way several times to help him ready for the journey.  Looking tentatively over his shoulder, he thought he saw Lilly at the window, but then dismissed it as the reflection of a passing cloud on the glass pane.