Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 39

Todd, waking, felt Blair resting on his stomach, her arms splayed across him.  Both of them were still nude, and the fire was dwindling.  His hand automatically went to her hair, and he let it rest there.  She made small waking noises and movements, and then went back to stillness.  He reached for his cell, which was on the coffee table, and saw the time.  "Blair, the kids, Jack'll be home any minute."


She moved again, this time tipping her head up to see him.  "What time is it?"


"Almost two."


"Wow, we'd better get up.  Ray's going to come out of his nap soon, too.  We slept the day away?"


"Most of it," he said.


She sat up, and reached for her bra and blouse.  "It's cold, even with the fire."


"Maybe we need to check the thermostat later.  Winter's here," he sat up also, reaching for his boxers.  He said, "We both probably need a shower."


"Probably?" she laughed.  "We do."


He reached for his phone again as he got a text message.


Dad, I'm going to Ray Martino.  Some kind of support group that Grandpa set up.  Later.


Todd said, "We have a short reprieve.  Seems our son is going to a support group meeting today.  Courtesy of Timothy.  If Jack's got Williams, then I have to send the copter, or take it, to get Sam."


"Right, unless Williams drops Jack, gets Sam . . ."


"I'll just call Perzno.  He'll get Sam in the copter.  Is that okay?"


"Sure, I just don't remember Sam being alone in the copter before."


"I'll go.  No problem.  Let me catch a shower.  I still have time to get him if I do.  All right?"


"Yes, that's better."


"Okay."  His cell rang, and he picked it up, "Hey."


"Hey, Lad, it's Timothy.  I wanted to tell ya that Jack has . . ."


"Yeah, he just texted us."


"And after I made the appointment, I realized that Sam will not have a way home from school today.  So I wanted to offer to go and get him and bring him to Unforgettable for ya.  That way, you and the wife could offer me a nice dinner, eh?"


"Gee, that sounds good, I'm sure Blair won't mind company for dinner, Timothy," Todd said.

She agreed.

"Thanks, for doing that, really.  I appreciate it," he continued.


"I'm going to take Sam out to play in the park for a while first, and then head over a little later, ya know.  Hoping to time it that I am there when Jack gets home, in case he needs to chat about the experience he had today.  Just in case."


"That sounds just right.  But, you know, you don't have to do all this."


"I know, but Lad, ya have enough on your plate.  I think we ought to finish what ya really came to the penthouse for, the other day, when Dorie was there.  If I can help with anything else, then it will be my pleasure.  Y'ar my family, and this is what I always imagined I would be doing when I first fell in love with Erin."


Todd wasn't sure what to say.  He cleared his throat, "Thanks."


"And I can't thank ya enough, Son.  You gave me back many things to live for.  I will see ya for dinner.  Hope she has something good."


He looked to Blair with a puzzled expression.  She said, "You don't understand how someone 'like you' can have people like these in your life.  Is that what you were going to say?"


He looked to his hands.  "I keep wondering . . . every time things go good, or someone, like, really cares about me . . ."


"You wonder why?"


"Sort of.  I wonder how.  I'm used to things like . . . what happened to us with Sommer.  I've almost become prepared for them."


"That's behind us.  Right?"


"I don't know.  That's what scares me.  It feels bad when things are good, like something will come out and ruin it somehow."


"Even if that's true, it's not because of you, Todd.  Life sends us things, good and bad.  It's not a curse, it's not because you deserve it, My Love.  It's because it happens.  We weather it because we love each other so much.  Nothing can touch that.  Even the bad things."  She brushed his hair back from his face, "Be happy when we are.  You deserve that, Todd.  We won't know what will come our way, but you don't deserve anything worse than anyone else does."


"Still working on believing that," he said.


"I know you are.  And it's my job, as your wife, to help you see it."


***


"You can come out now.  Father Macnamara was won over by your decision not to run when your door was inadvertently left open today."  Sister Mary Elizabeth said.


Tina smiled, "I get to go outside?"


"With an escort, yes.  I'll be that escort."  The nun continued,  "and then you'll have dinner with the others."


Tina was glad, but realized she was not doing well at keeping up the craziness, so she said, "Can I do surgery?  Later?"


"Surgery?"


"Yes, I'm a nurse.  Trained, you know.  If there's no surgery, then I can just help someone with their blood pressure or a needle."


"Whatever you like, we can discuss it later, is that all right?"  the clergywoman asked.


She's falling for it.  "Sure.  Later."  She grabbed her coat, "I want to take a walk, if that's okay."  


"Yes, it's fine."

"Can you call me 'Nurse?'"


"I suppose I can, Nurse."


"Okay, let's go then," she said and skipped past the nun.


***


"It's the luck of the Irish that ya were with me today, Lad!"  Timothy said to Sam.  "Now come along, let's go in the house.  That's enough running about the back yard!  We've been playing since I picked ya up from school."


"But Grandpa, I'm not tired!"


"But what if I am, Laddy?"


Sam stopped, running to his grandfather and hugging him.  "Don't get tired, Grandpa, don't get tired!  Please?  A little longer?"


"I don't have the energy for any more hide and seek.  Y'ar way better at it than I am!"


"One more try?"


Todd walked up, and said, "Hey, if your Grandpa is tired, then you gotta quit.  It's almost dinner time, anyway."


"Dad!"  Sam said, running to Todd, who scooped him into his arms.  "I didn't see you yet today, since morning."


"That's because Mommy and I were busy with Ray for a while," he shot a glance to Timothy.  "Thanks, Grandpa, for being there for Sam today.  And for Jack."  He put Sam down, who ran off again.  "And for me."  He stood, looking much like a boy himself, with his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and his shoulders slightly hunched.  


Timothy stood up.  He and Todd were practically eye-to-eye in height, and with some imagination, a person could think they were father and son, if not by appearance, than in stature and interaction.  The older man said, "I'm happy to do it.  I care very much for ya and y'ar family, Todd."


"I know, and I can't do anything but thank you."


"Ya can give me a bear hug, that will do."


Timothy put his arms around Todd, and patted his back roughly, then let Todd take the lead, and waited for a moment, before pulling back.  He was surprised when Todd let the hug linger.  The embrace ended a moment later, and Todd, pulling back first, said, "That wasn't so bad." 


"No.  My father made it his business to hug us every day.  First Creena, the little one.  Then Johnny, and then me.  He did that all the way until the day he died.  We were men, and we still got embraced by him.  He also kissed us, often.  He was a good man.  Like ya are.  Ya hug and kiss y'ar boys, and y'ar daughter, without reservation."


"I got it from Blair, I guess.  She was always that way with the kids, since they were little."


"No, ya got it from yourself, ya just don't know it.  I've watched ya with the babby.  Ya love him a great deal."


"He's . . . a piece of me and her.  I can't help it.  Sometimes holding him is like . . . holding our love in my hands."  He realized how it sounded - sappy.


"Yes.  But ya grew up without that, eh?  And now, it hasn't stopped ya from understanding it and wanting to give it to them, wherever it came from."


"It wasn't Peter Manning."


Timothy became somber, "No.  No, it wasn't.  I want ya to know that this man did not matter.  His abuse and his actions may have mattered to y'ar life, but he does not matter in who ya are."


Todd breathed in the crisp, chilling air.  "I think I know that.  At least I'm starting to."


"Good," the older man said, turning to the house.  "Now, what did the Missus make?"


"She didn't make anything.  We ordered.  Chinese.  Hope that's okay."


"Whatever ya give me is okay, I'm a beggar, cannot be a chooser!"  and they headed to the house.


***


At dinner, Sister Rebecca Katherine accompanied Bea, who was armed with a fresh sketch pad and new pencils, that she propped under her tray.  Tina, escorted by Sister Elizabeth Mary was already at a table, and said, "Sister Rebecca Katherine, over here!"


The nun, not really wanting company at dinner, directed Bea to put her things down, and went to Tina.  "I'm sorry, we have a lot to discuss this evening, and she's not up to talking with others presently. I hope ya understand."


Tina said, "Yes, I understand.  Maybe another time."  Then she turned back to Sister Elizabeth Mary and said, "Florence Nightingale was a great nurse, but I think my favorite is Hot Lips Houlihan . . ."


Sister Rebecca Katherine went back to her table, and Bea was already writing.


I need your help to see if My Angel is still alive.


The nun said, "Who is your angel?"


If you are to help me, then I am going to have to tell you about all of them.


"Yes, I suppose that's true, Dear.  I suppose you're right.  If it is too much for you, we can stop at any time."


I think they lied.  I think my baby lived.


"He may have.  But you must realize, Dearest, that if he is alive, he is a grown man, much the age of Father MacNamara, not a baby or a teenage boy."


I'm confused.  I don't know when it was.  It feels like forever ago, and feels like yesterday.  Since the Time of Black, I get foggy.  So confused.


"What is the Time of Black?  Can we start there?"


I don't know.


She began to rock.  Sister Rebecca Katherine covered her hand with hers.  She said, "Draw it.  Maybe you can draw what happened, Dear."


Bea continued to rock, and Sister Rebecca Katherine brushed her hair back from her face.  The nun said, "Don't be afraid, Dear.  This is not The Time of Black.  Y'ar safe with us here, at St. Anne's."


Saint Anne's.  I didn't know.  I like that name.  The Nice Nun wants to help me, but I'm confused.  It hurts to think.  I'm afraid.  My Angel, what if he's dead.  If he really died.  What if he did?  I wish I could remember, on my own.


"Ya must believe me," the nun continued.  "Y'ar safe."


Bea stopped rocking, and took her pencil.  She wrote a much longer series of sentences this time, and Sister Rebecca Katherine waited.  When she finally finished, the nun had eaten her dinner, but watched Bea as she wrote, diligently, on the sketch pad.  Her words were lengthening and by the time she sat back, finished, her scrawl was covering the page, and had gone onto the back.  The nun out her hand out, to take the pad, and Bea hugged it to her chest.  Her face was worn and tear-stained.


"You don't want me to read it, Dear?"


She nodded.


"You do want me to read it?"


She nodded again, still hugging it to her.


"You don't want me to read it now, do ya?"


She shook her head "no."


"Do you want me to read it when I'm alone?"


She nodded again, and handed Sister Rebecca Katherine the sketch pad.  The nun took it, and Bea began to eat.


Just then, Tina and Sister Elizabeth Mary came by the table, and Tina, making eye contact with Bea again, slowed.  Oh my God, I think I know where I know her from . . .  she said, "I know who you are!" with recognition in her voice, and when Bea frowned and began to rock, Sister Elizabeth Mary chimed in and said, "Let's go, Hot Lips" and directed Tina away.


"But I think I know who she is!"  Tina called out as she left the cafeteria.  

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