The End of Blame: Chapter 28

In the morning, Blair woke, the sun bright in the windows he'd made certain lined their temporary home.  Todd was gone from the bed, and she heard him talking in the other room.  "A full expose of the last details of Carlo Hesser's legacy.  Yep.  Straight from the source, but keep it unnamed.  Be sure to put the headline as I said.  And find out about this Crimson, will you?  What will it take to buy them out.  Blair wants it, and she gets it."


He hung up, and she hung back, waiting.  He dialed another number.  "McBain, it's me.  Good, you?  I mean good.  I slept through.  Yep.  Maybe she did tire me out, finally, I don't know.  Whatever it was, it worked.  Feel great.  Wanna do a run?  You don't run?  Okay, the gym?  Oh, you're leaving?  Going home?  Well, that's good, I suppose.  I know you miss them.  Listen, can I keep this book a while longer?  Thanks.  And while you're at it, don't go telling people I'm a nice guy, will ya?  Oh, one more thing."  his voice changed, and she recognized it instantly, "Thank you.  I really don't know what else to say but that.  Sure, I'll owe you a beer.  How about a beer label?  Okay, but you're getting at least one bottle.  Thanks again for all you've done for me and my family, John.  Have a good flight."


She waited a moment longer before entering the room.  Then she breezed in, "Hi."


"Hi, Blair."  he said.


"How do you feel?"


"Different.  Better.  It's amazing what a night's rest can do,"


"Yes.  But what is it?  Something is bothering you.  I can see it."


He hesitated.  "It's about Carlo."


"Go ahead, you know I'm here for you,  Whatever it is,"


"He took Kathleen's baby, he told her it died.  He took it away from her and gave it to someone else. . ."


"Stop, Todd, I know where you're going with this. . ."


"Let me finish, please, Blair.  You said you are here for me."


She fell silent.


He said, "He let her believe her son was dead.  I did that.  I did that same thing, to you."


"Did you want me to respond?  Or am I still on silent mode?"


"I'm done now.  I got it out.  I just had to say it, Blair."


Her heart broke for him.  One step forward, and two steps back.  "All right.  Yeah, you did that to me.  But I forgave that, years ago, and your son, who you gave away, forgave you, just recently.  He cherishes you.  Hangs on your every word.  What else do you need?  You knew you were wrong and were eaten up by guilt when you did it.  You brought Jack back.  And no, it does not make you like Hesser.  You did something he did.  He also breathed.  He also ate, slept and drank.  Does that make him and I the same?  No.  Just stop it, Todd.  Honestly, this self-hate gets old after a while."  And she got up and left the room.


Hoping her strategy worked, she threw herself onto the bed with a magazine.  When he came into the room, she suddenly hoped it were not upside down as she turned the pages.  "What is it?"  She said, absently.


"I'm sorry, for bringing that back up."


"We've already been through it, haven't we?  It's done, over with."


He nodded.  "Yeah, we have."


"We went over it and over it, and Ray did.  And Jack did.  More than once.  You're not about to start obsessing on that."


"I know."


"Then forget it, forgive it, whatever.  Just stop it.  It's not worth it anymore.  Precious time is getting away from you.  Time that you need to spend living, not reliving."


He put out his hand.  "Come here, now."


She tossed the magazine aside and took his hand, and he pulled her into his arms.  She felt her knees give way as he kissed her, passionately, supporting her with his arm at the small of her back.  At the end of the kiss, he pulled her close, running his hand up her back and to the nape of her neck.  She weakly said, breathy, "What was that for?"


"For everything.  For putting up with me.  Heck, for 'putting out' with me.  All these years.  I so love you, Mrs. Manning."


She closed her eyes, squeezing a tear free, and barely got out, "Me, too."


Their embrace was interrupted by a phone call.  Todd looked at the screen of his cell, and said, "I have to take this outside, okay?  Business."


"Okay," she said, watching him go.  She rubbed her hands together, greedily, as she thought about Crimson.


Todd went out onto the deck and answered, "Hello?"


"Todd, Laddy, don't hang up, boy.  Please."


It was Timothy Broderick.


Todd's voice was caught in his throat.  Timothy represented the one thing he'd never had and almost caught, like a gold ring on a merry-go-round.  He felt his center go cold.  "What do you want?"


"I want you to listen to me, Son . . ."


"Don't call me that," he felt his voice waver, "okay?  Just don't."


"What's wrong with you, Lad?  Something's different."  Todd, reshattering at the man's voice, was struggling to keep his composure.  He found it hard to find words.  "Todd?  Are you there?  Ah, don't go and hang up, I ask of ya."


"I'm here,"  he cleared his throat.  He listened, his heart breaking, but he listened.


"Is Bridgette all right?  Or is something wrong with the babe, or Starr or the boys?"


"No.  They're all fine."


Blair, who could not help herself, snuck back around the corner to listen in to what she felt was his call about Crimson.  What she heard and saw on Todd's end was much different.


"Well, something is ailing ya . . ."


"Besides this call?"


"Ya know there is, but ya don't have to tell me.  At least not now."


"What do you want?"  Todd repeated.


"I'm dying, Lad.  I hate to come right out and tell ya, but I'm dying.  I warned ya, the day I left.  It's gone and taken me, the bastard cancer."


He fell to the lounge chair, his hand in his hair.  He hated what Timothy had done, but to lose him from the face of The Earth?  He flashed on the times at Unforgettable, when he'd seen the man step into the role of father with him, and he squeezed his eyes closed.  All of them had shared so much in Ireland.  All of them had saved his very life.


Blair could see him falling apart, and wanted to go to him.  There was a long period of his listening, which made it difficult for her to determine who he was talking to.


The long period of listening was to Timothy:  "I haven't long, boy.  You're the closest thing I've ever had to a son, since my boy was killed.  I wanted to ask ya, if it's not too much. . .but I can tell, by your response to me, that it might be a lot to ask for ya to come and see me off."  The older man's voice cracked, and he continued, "I'm so very sorry for what I did, lying to ya that way.  I just want to. , , see ya, before I go.  If it's not too much to ask of ya?"


Todd was beside himself, the phone dangled from one hand.  She could contain herself no longer, and went to him, and in one movement, scooped up the phone, and pulled him to her chest.  She said, "Hello?" into the receiver.  Her eyes widened.  "Timothy?  My God, its been weeks."


He said, "Bridgette," his voice was gravelly, "I haven't got long, dear.  I just called to ask Todd to come.  I don't know what he's facing, but I'm facing my end.  I just wanted him to come, and I'm very sorry for all the pain I've caused."  Blair realized just then that there were things about Timothy that Todd had never made clear to her.  She petted her husband's hair, and continued to listen.  Timothy said, "If ya can see it in your heart to forgive me, and support him, I want to see him, and you, maybe help him, and say my goodbyes.  If you can see your way clear to forgiveness."


She, confused, said, "Timothy, I'll have to get back to you, at this number, all right?  Todd needs me, I have to talk with him before I can say more.  I promise to call you back, either way."


"All right, Lassy.  Thanks.  And heartily, I'm sorry, Bridgette," and he hung up.


She closed the phone, and held Todd.  After a few minutes, she said, "All right, my love, what's going on?  What's got you so torn up about Timothy Broderick?"


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