Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 47 (adult)

Perzno found it simple to navigate the copter toward Unforgettable with the snow having halted, and the sky clearing.  Flying over the snow-covered mountain would have been a breathtaking experience, if it were not for the prevailing silence between them all the way.  Blair thought back to the moment in the solarium, when Todd and his mother first locked eyes again after more than thirty years, and she felt a chill go up her back.  Todd, having pulled her close to him, with his arm draped behind her, felt the shiver go through her.  "You all right?"


"Don't worry about me.  I'm fine."


He said, "So does that mean you're worrying about me?"


"Should I?" she asked, turning toward him.  Her deep green eyes searched his hazel ones.  


He brushed his thumb across her cheek, and said, "I love you.  You know that?"


"Yes, I know that.  And I'm glad.  Really glad."  He moved toward her, and took her top lip in his two lips, holding her face with his hand.  


When it ended, she looked into his eyes.  "We need to talk about this."


He turned away a bit, and said, "I know."


"A lot happened today, Todd."


"I know that, too."


"And I am going to tell you right now, you're not going to hold anything back from me, Todd Manning.  Regardless of what you think I will say."


He gave her one of his side glances.  "Oh, yeah?  What are you going to do to me?  Love me to death?"


"Worse than that, I'll . . . sic Dorian on you."


He threw his hands up, in a gesture of pretend fear.  "No, not that!  The pseudo-mother-in-law from Hell."


She laughed, and put her hands through his arm, and looped herself through.  She placed her chin on his shoulder, her favorite perch, and he turned just enough to make eye contact with her.  I want her so much right now.  My woman.  She's the only one who always understands.  He said, "I owe you."


"You owe me nothing," she said, and she whispered into his ear, "I love you, so much."


He said, "Okay.  What do I do, Blair?  How do I handle this?"  He crossed his arms tighter over his chest, not quite forgetting that her hands were intertwined with his arm.  


She said, "What do we do?  I don't know.  But we're going to figure that out.  Together."


The copter finally landed.  The balcony of Unforgettable was covered in snow.  They could see Sam's fort had been given new life, and both of them smiled.  He said, "That little boy," he bit his lip.  "He means so much."


"I know he does, and he loves you so deeply."


"Yeah.  Same here.  Blair, I just have to. . . hold them.  I can't explain it, it's just something. . .it's been in my mind. . .I just have to."


She jumped down out of the copter, and he followed.  She said, "You go into our room and start a fire. It's getting toward evening. I'll get the boys, and we'll have a slumber party in our room.  We can eat in there, if you want.  And we can see the snow all around us through the glass."


He smiled, "All right.  That sounds good.  Blair?"  She looked back, and her beauty against the snow made him lose his breath.  "Hurry.  Especially the baby."


"Okay, my love, I'll be right back."  


He went to the fireplace, and taking a log from the bin, he threw it into the fireplace, and searched his pockets for matches.  Unable to find them, he went to the drawer and removed his father's lighter, that he still had buried in the back of it.  He held it in his hand, and looked at it.  Turning it over, he saw the carved silver eagle and ran his fingers over it.  He used it to light the fire, and then kept it in his palm.  This is what you left me, you bastard.  A fucking reminder of the pain you gave me, and my mother.  And, you left this thing inside me that I have to fight every day.  You sick, demented fuck.


Blair came back into the room, and saw him, holding the lighter in his hand, his other fist tightly clenched.  She was holding Ray, and when he first looked up at her, with a strand of his hair falling in front of his eye, she looked so perfectly beautiful holding the living proof of their love, that he had to swallow and look away.  

She said, "Ray wants to see his Daddy."


He looked up at her again, and seeing the baby, his face softened.  "Hey, buddy," he said.


She walked over, seeing the lighter, and tucking the baby under her arm, she said, "Todd, give it to me."


He did.


She handed Ray to him, and said, "You're not Peter Manning, Todd.  He's dead."


He nodded, and held his son up in the air, making him laugh from his gut.  His belly jiggled a little when he chuckled.  Todd placed him over his shoulder, and the baby pulled at his hair and playfully slapped the side of his face.  Todd was not encumbered by his tears; he let them go, and said, "Sam, and Jack?"


"They're on their way.  They just got in from snow play, and they both were wet and cold.  They're coming.  I ordered pizza, and with this weather, it will be here in an hour."


After eating, The Mannings, minus one, were sitting in front of the fireplace in the master bedroom, huddled in a pile.  Todd and Blair sat next to each other, their backs against the sofa and their legs outstretched on the area rug.  Jack, lying on his back, had his head on his mother's knee and looked to the ceiling at the snow covered glass roof.  Sam was on the sofa behind Todd and Blair's head, and when he was not jumping up and down on it, or playing his hand held game, his arms were wrapped around Todd's neck and his little face was pushed up against his father's.  Ray, having found watching snow boring, was sleeping curled on Todd's chest, his hand ceremoniously bent under his chin.  More time passed and Sam stopped moving, one of his arms draped across Todd's shoulder and onto his chest as he slept on the sofa.  Jack, earphones in, had dozed on Blair's knee.  


Todd looked to his wife, and said, "This is right."


She nodded, "Yes, Todd, this is right."


"Help me," he said, almost breaking down.


"Always, My Love, what is it?  What can I do?"


He closed his eyes for a moment, and said, "Help me keep this, Blair.  I've never had it, and I don't want it to go away, ever.  I want to keep us, all of us, just like this."


"I can do that."


"Promise?"  Dark paneling and a small door . . .


"Yes," she said, tearing up, "Yes, I can promise to help you."  She saw the faraway on his face.


He kissed her gently.  Their movement stirred Jack.  He sat up, and said, "I fell asleep.  Let me get Sam and put him to bed."  He got up, swiftly.  Blair noticed how much he moved like Todd, easy and free, without much effort.  He scooped Sam into his arms and carried him off to bed.


Todd said, "I should do the same with this little one."  He handed him to Blair as he got up, then took him back gently.  Ray never flinched, he just remained in baby dream world.  Todd went off to put him to bed.  Blair sat, watching the remnants of the fire, and hugged herself.  Jack appeared at the door, and said, "Mom, Goodnight."


"Good night, Jack."


"Mom?"


"Yeah."


"Something happened to Dad, again, today.  Right?"


She looked at her son.  "Yes, something happened.  But it's not just to Dad.  It's to all of us.  I promise to tell you more tomorrow Jack, it's just not the right time tonight.  And it's nothing scary or bad, okay?"


"Yeah.  Okay.  Mom?"


"Yeah?"


"Is he going to be all right this time?"


"Yes.  He will be just fine, Jack."


"How do you know?"


"Because, I know.  What we just spent these last few hours doing is why.  Now go to bed.  Sleep in, tomorrow's Sunday."


"All right.  Love you."


"I love you, Jack."


Just then, Todd returned from Ray's room, and said, "Hey, I want some of that action," and he pulled his son into an embrace.


Jack rested his head on Todd's shoulder for a moment, which he had rarely done.  Instead of patting his father, tough-guy style, he let his head stay resting there, and held on.  Todd, sensing something different, moved his hands across his son's back gently, and put his lips to the top of his head.  He said, "Jack Manning, I love you, and I'm proud to be your father." 


Blair saw Jack fight tears and then say, "I love you, Dad.  Sorry for being such a pain recently."


"You're not a pain.  Okay, maybe you are, but I could never live without having that kind of pain every day.  Good night, now, Son."


"Night, Dad.  And don't worry about me.  I'm going to be okay."  Jack said, turning to go.


Blair, wiped her tears quickly, and smiled when Todd came to her, and before he got back down onto the floor, she said, "No, Mr. Manning.  I have a different idea."


She popped up and stood in front of him, and putting her hands on his chest, she pushed him backward toward the bed.  She gave a light shove, and he fell back.  She said, "Time for someone to collect."


He watched her, in the firelight, as she started with his socks and removed them, unzipped his pants and took them off him, and unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.  He was left in his boxers and a tank, and knowing how he felt about his nakedness, she let it be.  Pushing him gently down on to the bed, she said, "Turn over," and waited.


He did, putting his back up toward her.  She began at the back of his head, undoing his hair and letting it fall.  She massaged his head and ears gently, and moved her hands to his neck and shoulders.  Taking some massage oil, she rubbed it between her hands, and then moved along his evident muscles carefully.  She used strong pressure but a gentle touch, and felt him relax.  His scars were peeking out from beneath his tank, and the large one on his shoulder, that she had seen him receive at the hands of Michael Leona, was faded and brown.  She worked his arms, one at a time, and then his hands.  


In the middle of her beginning his lower back, he said, "Babe?"


She said, "Shhh."


He said, "Babe?" in a softer voice.


She leaned over, and letting her hair graze his shoulder, she said into his ear, "Yes?"


"Would it be too much to ask for you to let me turn over and look at you?"


"If that's what you want."


"It is," he said, turning onto his back.  He looked deeply into her eyes, and she looked back, and smiled a sweetly sad smile.  Reaching up to touch her hair as it fell against her chest, he said, "This is everything."


She said, "Not quite," and lifted her top over her head.  She revealed a lemon-yellow bra, and kneeling on the bed, she undid her jeans, then sat at the edge of the bed and climbed out of them as he watched, and her yellow panties were slid off and left on the floor in a heap.  She turned back to him, and straddled his knees.  Pulling his boxers off, she let them drop to the floor, and started kneading his thighs.  This gave her the result she wanted before she kissed her way up his legs to his middle, where she wrapped him with her mouth.  


Sitting up and wanting to touch her in response, he was surprised when she pushed him back onto the bed with one hand, and kept her at her work.  Without any sound, she moved her lips off him, and crawled, kittenish, up the bed, and straddling his waist, began to kiss him.  She let her tongue explore his mouth, and his hands went to her hair.  She took one of his earlobes in her teeth, lightly, and her hands ran down the length of his torso, until she grasped him.  After stroking him gently, she carefully guided him into her, and rode him, her hair cascading over her shoulders and glowing softly in the light of the fire.


He said, "I'm so close.  Let me . . ."


She put her fingers to his mouth, and continued to move along him with long, deep movements, and said, "Shhh.  Just let me love you."


He closed his eyes, and she stopped a moment to take his hands and place them on the peaks inside her yellow lingerie. He opened them to see his hands cupping her breasts.  "Beautiful," he said, and she continued to stroke him to climax with every inch of her body.  


She smiled as she heard his voice catch as he cried out her name.  He sat up toward her, pulling her closer, and moved her bra aside.  He pressed his mouth to her exposed nipple and she felt him explode inside her.  He rocked against her, and she did the same, until she couldn't feel his pulsating any longer.  He fell back against the pillows.  She followed him, her face right over his, and said, "I love you, Todd."       


***


"Wait a minute!  You can't just drive off and leave me in the middle of the city like this!  I demand an exception!"  the cab drove off, "It's not my fault I forgot that I didn't have any money!"  she screamed after the car, and then looked around.  Now what am I going to do?  Tina, you've really gotten into a fix this time.  It's almost midnight, it's dark, it's freezing cold.  What the Hell am I doing out here?  It took like three hours for the damn cab to come, and two hours to get to Llanview.  Ugh!  


She began to walk, through Llanview center, her red scarf pulled up closer around her mouth.  Sheesh.  I hate winter.  For God's sake, why didn't that cabby take credit cards?  Walking along the edge of the park, she realized that soon, it would be colder and deeper in the night, and she would be out there, totally alone.  I don't have a car, I don't have a house . . . oh my God, I am a homeless person!


She walked a little further and began to feel extremely tired, cold and hungry, when she came upon a sign.  "Second Chances Mission."  Hmm.  They can't turn me away.  She looked into the window, and the place seemed warm and safe.  At least she would be off the streets, and even better, in disguise.  Go ahead Tina, you are homeless, after all, at least for now.  You'd never run into anyone you know in a place like this. . .

***


It was well after midnight.  Sister Rebecca Katherine was up in her room, on her knees aside the bed, praying.  Her eyes were sore from crying and she felt very tired, but she also knew that her prayers were needed.  The sound of a small knock reached her, and she quietly got up to answer the door.  It was Timothy, who had two cups of hot chocolate and some cookies.


She said, "The cook gave ya these, Dear Brother?"


"I made friends with him, easily, and he was kind enough to give me a snack.  Are ya up for some company, Creena?"


"Yes, of course," she said, opening her door and letting him come inside the room.  He made use of the chair by the desk, and she sat on her bed.  He handed her a cup and she took a sip.  "It's warm and lovely, thank ya, Timothy."


"Ya can't sleep either?"


"No.  It's eluding me this evening.  Nothing I do seems to help."


"It's the boy.  He draws your heart to him, doesn't he?"


"Yes.  He does.  And Bea."


"I am sure of that."


"Timothy, would I be lying if I didn't tell him the whole truth?"  She asked, tearing up.  "I am afraid."


He said, "Creena.  It is what he deserves, if he wants to know."


"It's so very . . . bad."


"If ya do not tell him, what will happen?  He will search it out until he knows.  Or he will force himself to remember, if that be the case, that's if he can even control it from coming back."


"Oh, Dear Brother.  It is not good."


"What happened to the woman?  Why don't we start there."


"Peter Manning, from what I can tell, was paying money to this 'Evil One' for him to 'be quiet' about something.  Of course, you must realize, this is from a woman who has brain damage and some kind of delusional mental illness.  It's hard to know what things are solidly true and which are not."


"What do you know for certain?"


"That she was raped and beaten, possibly often, by both Peter and possibly this Evil One, whoever he is.  That she was beaten so badly that she lost the ability to speak because of brain damage.  And that the only reason she was sent to him was because she caught Peter Manning . . ." she could not go on.


"Taking out his perversions on her young son.  And that young son was Todd.  Is that it, Creena?"


She cried, "Yes.  She tried to fight him, and he stabbed and cut her, and she was sent away under the guide of it being to heal, but was never let back to him again, except for one visit.  And he had to stay there, with that sick, terrible man, until . . . until many years later."


Timothy put his cup down.  He no longer had an appetite.  He said, "He must know the truth, if he wants it, Creena.  Ya cannot keep it from him.  He's remembered much of it himself.  Piecing it together will help him heal.  He's already questioning his own anger and violence.  He may need this."


"I cannot think of how to tell him."


"Then let his mother tell him.  Let him read her words.  If that is what he wants.  Todd knows what kind of man Peter Manning was.  I believe he will be able to handle this, possibly come out stronger.  He's come through much worse.  Have ya thought about why he raped Marty Saybrooke, in the first place?"


"I've thought about it.  It was a dreadful mistake, he knows.  I don't believe he could have stopped it, though.  This all makes sense, that he was abused, and it hurt him deeply.  His adoptive mother, too, in front of him.  He lashed out at people this way because it was what he knew."  Sister said.


"And that means, he must face it all to gain understanding of himself.  How will he ever begin to forgive himself, truly, without that?  He needs to see the whole picture of what shaped him, so he can forgive and move on."


"I am glad we spoke of it, then.  This is what I will do.  Thank ya, Dear Brother."


"It's all right, I am glad we talked, too.  It put my mind at ease to know yours wasn't as well."


She smiled, "Timothy, what would I do if ya had not taken a piece of me liver?"


"No sense thinking of that now."  He got up, "Goodnight, Creena."


"Good night, Timothy."

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