Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 20 (adult)

A few weeks passed.  Todd had been putting himself more into his work, and Blair, still devastated from his wanting to leave them and his pulling back from her, kept her distance a bit.  She had her own plan in her mind and hoped it would accomplish something.  Still, she worried a great deal about him, and his latest fears were becoming hers.

He typed into various search engines in an effort to make heads or tails of the info he had gotten from Lynnette about Jenna's mom.  In all of his work on this particular story, he had not been able to uncover much.  She left them for some guy.  Hmf.  He continued to search, and then, coming up with nothing, he suddenly remembered:  the letters.

Fishing through the desk drawers, he pulled out the small stack that Jenna had given them.  He said aloud, "This looks . . .Momma," he reflected back.  He remembered a stack of similar letters from years back when he had read and found out he was adopted.  He shook himself free of it, and undid the elastic holding them together.  He opened one, then another.  Scanning them lead him to nothing new or interesting to even spark anything in his search.  Until . . .

He turned the envelope over and saw the postmark.  Difficult to read, but not impossible, he brought the letter under the light to view it.  It was Llanview.  Their mother was living in Llanview, but still lost touch with them?  How long did Jack say it was since they saw her?  She lived practically in their backyard.  "You're going to have to read them.  Every one.  Blair?"  He boomed her name.  "Blair?"

She came around the corner.  "Yes, Todd, what is it?  Goodness, the way you're yelling you'd think the world was ending."

"It's not but . . . can you help me out?  Gotta read through all these letters from Jenna's mother."

"Sure."  She plopped herself on the sofa across from his desk.  Another thing she had always loved about him was his attention to detail and sentimentality.  The office at home was an almost identical recreation of the office of The Sun from the original in the Manning Building in 1995.  He'd done the same thing at The Sun office downtown, and brought those touches home as well.  The sofa was a mustard yellow, and she sat on it, not able to put the images of them, first married and falling for each other, making love on a couch so similar to this one.  

He tossed her a small bundle.  He said, "Anything you can spot that seems . . . you know."

They both began reading, and the room was silent.  She put down her letter.  "Todd?"

"Yeah?"  He barely looked up.

"A while ago, after we came back from Ireland the first time?"

"Yep," he still did not look up.

"You made a promise, do you remember what it was?"

"Not talking about this, Blair.  Not now.  I told you that."

"Oh, so your promises don't matter, then?"

He didn't answer.  

"I don't get it.  You promised."

Nothing.  She got up, with the letters in hand.  Approaching the desk, she said, "You want to go it alone, after all this time?  Then here!"  she threw the letters at him, "Go it alone!"

He attempted to continue reading as she made her way angrily out of the room.  After she was gone a few seconds, he lowered the letter.  "Damn it," he said, aloud, and followed her.

She had locked the master bedroom door.  He tried the knob, then said, "Blair?"  There was no answer.  "Blair, come on, open the door."  He pounded with his fist, three times, and bellowed, "Blair?"

She stood on the other side of the door, "What?"  she yelled.

"Open the door."

"You're on your own, Buddy."

He raised an eyebrow.  She's royally pissed.  For a moment, he thought of turning around and going back to the office and ignoring her, but he recognized that as something from the past that he just couldn't do anymore.  He knocked lightly.  "Blair?" he said softly.

She lowered her tone, "What?"

"Open the door.  Come on."

"No."

He rolled his eyes, "Blair, come on!"

He heard the latch undo.  She opened the door.  "What?"  She avoided his eyes.

"You want to talk about it, we can talk about it."  He went toward the sofa, and turned back to her.  She was by the door, arms folded.

"I . . ." she finally looked at him.  He was still standing, his arms were slightly open, from his last sentence, in a gesture of attempted communication.  He was calm, and what she took as slightly contrite.  And from where she stood, he was immensely sexy; his hair flopped onto his forehead a little, but he pushed it back, subconsciously, every once in a while.  He was wearing dress slacks that were made for his body, and a deep maroon shirt that clung to his muscles in the right places.  His beautiful face.  His beautiful body.  He is my man. . .what can I do?  I can't lose him again.

She couldn't help it.

She went to walk toward the sitting area to sit down and discuss it, but she couldn't.  Instead, she started toward him, slightly hesitant, and then as she got closer, sped her steps and launched herself onto him, pulling him close.  He wrapped his arms around her, slowly, and made her fit against him like a living cover.  He closed his eyes as her lips made her way across his neck, stopping to pull at his ear with her teeth, lightly, and they found each other's mouths.  She hopped onto him, putting her legs around his waist, and he supported her with one hand under her and the other across her back.  They finally stopped kissing, and looked at each other.  He said, "I don't want to fight."

She said, "Then don't.  Just love me, Todd."

He complied.

***

"Dr. Levin, I'm asking you, please.  She wrote to me, she communicated with me, and it got difficult.  She's not violent, Dr. Levin."

"She's not?"  He said, "Sister Rebecca Katherine, she fought three orderlies."

"She did, but let me explain why," she said.  She held out the drawing and the note that she wrote. 

He said, "This drawing, she did this?"

"Yes.  She also drew me a church the other day, with a man's face hidden in the clouds, and doctor, there's something there, more than ya think."

He looked at the nun, and realized she was quite insistent.  "I promise to investigate further if you like."

"Oh  yes,  Doctor, please, even if only a short time.  I feel strongly that there is more to this woman than meets the eye."

"I will do what I can."

"Thank you, that is all I can ask of ya."

"You have a soft spot for the abused.  You always have."

"This is true, I won't deny it.  But you must admit, Doctor, this drawing says a great deal about our Bea.  What if everyone is wrong about her?  After your team does evaluate her, let me know the outcome, if I am off-base, I'll kindly step aside."

"Truthfully, you're already overstepping.  You're not a trained psychiatrist."

"No.  I may not be, but I've seen many a broken soul, Doctor.  That in itself is a kind of training."

***

"It's not fair," she said.  "You turn me on, so much.  Cant' stay mad that well."  They were lying on the floor in the sitting area, pieces of clothes strewn all around them.  He still, somehow, had his shirt on, but it was open.  The rest of both of them was totally naked.  She could feel the warmth of him, still, all over her.  

He wasn't saying anything, he just looked at the ceiling.  Then he said, "It doesn't solve anything.  When I'm inside you, everything is perfect.  But it's not reality; I had you out in the frost the other night."

She looked down, remembering his bandaged foot.  "So?"

"Blair," he said, turning on his side.  "You don't deserve that kind of life."

"I deserve everything I've ever wanted.  And, I'm looking at him.  I love him, his children, the life he's made for us."

"It won't be forever, Babe.  Just until . . ."

"No.  If you do this, I'll file for desertion and divorce."

His face crinkled into disbelief.  "Are you kidding?"

"No."

"Then I guess you'll have to do that.  I can't subject the kids and you to this stuff anymore.  When it's done with, I'll come home.  If you'll have me back."  He felt nervous after he said it.  What if she was serious? 

She turned away, and looked to the ceiling.  "I won't.  I'll never take you back if you leave us again.  I promise you."  She got up, and grabbed her clothes.

"It's not good for the boys. Jack's . . . dealing with a lot."

"So let's make him deal with losing you yet again?  No, Todd."

He propped on an elbow, and looked after her puzzled.  "So, you think it's normal and okay for a woman to be chasing her husband into a frostbitten backyard at four in the morning, wondering if he's dead or alive?"

"No," she began, and then peeked back out of the bathroom, "but we're not normal."

"Hmf," he laughed lightly to himself.

She went back into the bathroom, and then called, "Now get in here and take a bath with me.  Come on, you know you want to."

He did.  His body was already primed to be with her again.  He had to admit: she knew what he liked and he couldn't ever get enough of her.  He went into the bathroom, still naked except for his open shirt.    She was in the tub, waiting.  She put her hand out, "Come on, my love."

He stripped himself of his shirt and climbed in.  She touched him, brought him to excitement that made his heart pound, lavished him with kisses on his neck, face and chest.  She stopped, and pulled away.  "See this?"

"I can't see it," he said, straining to look where she touched.  "But I know what it is."  He knew it was the scar from Leona's trick that she had witnessed herself.  

"You think I sat through that so that you could just come and go as you please?"  she asked.

He rolled his eyes, and was aching for her all over again.  "Later.  Okay?" he said, moving toward her and she climbed her usual way onto him.  He slid into her with ease.  

She sat, very still over him, but felt him flutter slightly inside her.  "You'll miss this," she said, and went to work, moving up and down on him the way she knew would bring him to a wild place of want and pleasure for the second time that afternoon.  Surprising to both of them, he didn't last long, and came into her, calling her name.  He held her, against his chest, and they floated a moment.  Her hair smells so good.  What WOULD you do without her, huh?  She won't stick to it, she'll give in.  She always has.

As if she could hear his thoughts, she started to get out of the bath.  "You will.  You'll miss this,"  and she went to get dressed.  "You'll miss us."

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