Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 49

Back at Unforgettable, Starr, who was there helping to watch the kids, was in the gazebo with Jack.  Hope and Ray were down for naps and Sam was in his fort.  The snow was almost knee-deep, and was very white, and surrounded them with a muffled kind of peace.  


She said, "So, something is wrong with Dad?"


"I don't know.  Mom said it's something about all of us, not only about him."  Jack answered her.


"Did he seem okay?"


"I guess.  Didn't stop him from kissing all over Mom, if that's what you mean."


"Jack!"


"I swear, Starr, those two are worse than kids at my school on lunch break."


"Just stick to the topic."


"I don't know what happened, seriously.  Mom said she'd tell us today."


"I don't want anything bad to happen.  They can't have more bad, Jack."  Starr said, and he could see she was worried.


"Can anyone ever say that and get it?"


"No, I guess not," she paused.  "So how are you doing?"


"Good.  I don't even want to drink anymore.  I have a support group, for stress.  And there's . . . someone."


"That's great, Jack."  The realizing his words, she immediately broke out into a huge smile.  "You met someone?  Really?"      


"You know her.  It's Jenna."

She fake punched her brother.  "Jenna?  That's awesome.  So pretty.  What's she like, aside from being an artist?"


"She's got these amazing green eyes, kind of like Mom's.  But, more than that, she's understanding.  She gets me, Starr."


"Oh, you sound like Dad, and you're falling for her."


"I don't know.  What does falling sound like?"

"Like this," she said shoving him, and since it took him by surprise, and he went flying off the bench.  


"Hey!" he called out, looking up from the ground.  


She laughed, and Sam came running.  "Starr!  Look!  I made a little bed where Hope can sleep."  he pulled Starr's hand.  She followed her little brother into the fort and looked at what he had done.  


"Sam, that's so wonderful!  Good job!"


All three of them looked skyward when they heard the copter coming their way.  Sam shouted, "It's Dad!  It's Mom!  Yay!!  Let's go in and wait for them!"


Sam began running, then tripped over his own foot and fell, got up and ran some more.  Jack and Starr followed behind, and all three of them were in the kitchen, Starr making hot chocolate for everyone.  Todd and Blair came down the kitchen entrance from the heliport, and Sam ran to them.  "Dad, Mom!  I made a bed in my fort so Hope can go and sleep, and there's room for everyone."


Todd picked him up saying, "That's great."  He placed the stack of drawings and writing on the counter, and kissed Starr.  "Hi, Shorty."


"Hi, Dad.  You okay?"


"Yeah, I'm okay.  Are you okay?"


"Yeah, I'm fine!  Ray and Hope are napping."


Blair said, "Good, this might be a good time to talk to you kids."


Jack said, "Please?  I really want to know what's going on."


The conversation that ensued included talk of Todd's mother Bitsy being found, and without upsetting the children too much, they explained that she had been in a hospital and had an accident that resulted in brain damage, and that she was sort of "special."  Starr just listened; she seemed to be reading between the lines that there was something bigger below, and Jack, hesitant to see the positive, also read more into it.  

Sam said, "She's a real life artist?"


Todd said, "Yeah," and got up.  Searching through the papers, he brought out the picture of Blair and the baby. 


Starr said, "This is beautiful, Mom!  It looks just like you."


Todd, anxious to read his mother's papers, said, "Listen, Starr, can you stay on a bit longer?"


She said, "Of course, Dad.  Hope is sleeping.  Nothing much else to do on a Sunday night."


He said, "Maybe in a little while we can have dinner together, all of us."  


He looked at Blair, who read his mind.  "Your father and I have some papers to go over.  We won't be long."


Jack watched them go, and then looked at Starr.  "Something's wrong."


"What's wrong?"  Sam said.


"Nothing, kid."  


***


Timothy finally made his way back into Llanview Center after the time at St. Anne's and felt the weight of his sister's sadness, Todd's anger and hate, and Bea's despair resting squarely on his shoulders.  He walked to the wall of windows, and looked out over the city.  The tops of all of the buildings were white; some had Christmas lights or displays.  A few here and there had a decorated Christmas Tree on the roof.  He surveyed it all.  "This is where ya stood, Todd, and looked over your 'kingdom.'"  He could see The Manning Building, not far from the penthouse building.  He'd always wondered about Todd's fascination with more windows than walls, but he thought now he might understand.  The top of the Manning Building had a huge Santa hat.  "How in the world did you do that, Son?"  he asked himself aloud.


He hoped his gut feelings about Todd were right.  He had faith that the man would transcend the abuse and turmoil in his life and come out of it, redeemed within himself.  He was not a betting man but within his soul, he had wagered that facing everything would somehow bring him to understand himself.  Would he crack and fall apart finding out the truth he was about to read?  


"He'll make it.  He has Bridgette.  He'll come back stronger.  He will understand his motivations, and, I hope, his heart will recover.  But if I am wrong. . .if I am wrong.  And then, I'll help pick up the pieces, no matter what it takes."  The self-doubt seeped in, and he fought it back, like a craving.


The doorbell rang.  Timothy went to it, and opening it, he saw Dorian, dressed in a red suit, with a tray of holiday cookies.  She began to say, "Happy Holidays," and was cut off, as he took the cookie tray, set it down on the desk by the door, and grabbed her around the waist, kissing her urgently.  Her hair fell out of its updo, and his hands were on her body, rapidly undoing her suitcoat buttons.  Finally, he stepped back, and said, "No, I . . .I am sorry, Dorie.  Excuse my . . . behavior."


She tucked her hair up, and it fell again, and she removed the comb and let it all go to her shoulders.  She said, "Timothy, what is wrong?"  She watched him go to the couch, a mixture of embarrassment and sorrow on his face, until he covered it with his hands.   She walked cautiously toward him.  "Timothy?"


She put her hand on his shoulder, and sat beside him, "You shouldn't worry about . . . what just happened.  I surely am not."  She waited.  "I think this is about something else, not that kiss."


He worked to pull himself together.  Without looking at her, he put his hand on her head, and pulled her to him, ashamed.  She held him, and said, "Tell me what's wrong.  It's all right."


He gathered himself, and letting go of her, pulled back, and let her see his face.  There were some tears, but his complexion was red from trying not to break down.  She touched his cheek.  He took her hand.  He said, "I fear Todd's in trouble.  Emotionally.  I am worried about how he'll. . .react to something."


"He's come a long way," Dorian said, and she could not believe they were her words.  But inside her, the words made her jump with fear for her niece.


He said, "I realize.  But Lassie, there's a lot coming down the pike for him.  I know he will be able to lean on Bridgette, but I'm afraid it might be too much."


Dorian ran her hand along the back of his head.  "He's strong.  Do you want to tell me what this is about?"


He spent a few minutes giving her an overview of the past twenty-four hours, and her mouth dropped.  "My God.  I never realized . . . or thought." 


"Does it make ya understand him, better?"


She said, "I don't think I ever will, but somehow, this makes me . . . sad for him.  What a horrible childhood.  And he brought that pain into his adult life.  It explains some things, but don't look for me to say it excuses them."  Not more for Blair to deal with, never mind those children.


Timothy ignored Dorian's jab, and said, "He's making a way for himself and his family, and he loves them more than himself.  I just want him to overcome this, and then forgive."


Dorian wasn't sure Todd was capable of that, but at the same time, she never fully understood the abuse he had suffered until the very moment she was experiencing.  She turned to Timothy, and said, "It will be all right."  And then, kissing his hand, she said, "Now, about that kiss at the door . . ."


***


Todd, sitting on the bedroom couch, with the fire blazing, had his head in Blair's lap, and read the pages of his mother's words aloud.  Every once in a while, he would stop, squeeze his eyes closed, or rest, and then go back and continue.  At times, Blair stopped and cried with him, held him, and they talked, trying to understand and piece the story together.  For some reason, the flashes subsided instead of making appearances throughout the letters.


When they finally got to the end of the woman's words, he sighed.  "All right.  There's not much left, then.  That's everything.  Nothing for me to uncover in some kind of 'therapeutic environment.'  Nothing for me to wake up screaming to block out remembering.  He did it.  I was just a little boy.  Like Sam.  Like we thought.  Remember?  We both asked each other.  I think it was in Greece."


Blair didn't speak.  She just ran her hand over his forehead, and through the edges of his hair.  "I know."


He said, "Funny, it's no shock, I can't even feel anymore.  It's just . . . what it was."


"You've questioned it.  For a while now."


"Yeah, I did.  I wasn't expecting this kind of ending to the search, if you know what I mean."


"Poor Bitsy," she said.


"Yeah, poor Bitsy.  She just wanted a baby.  He just wanted a living, squirming toy."


She closed her eyes, "Don't, Todd."


"It's the truth, isn't it?  He got money from Victor Lord to take me.  He knew he'd get more.  But he never saw me as anything but something to use."


"You said it yourself, he was sick.  Very sick."


"You know what else is funny?  I don't even know what to do next.  I wouldn't know where to start."


"You will.  After this passes, the emotion of it.  You'll know.  Or we'll know.  I'm right beside you."


"Sounds to me like Peter got snagged, and he hurt her.  Sent her to Mitch.  She didn't mind it at first, which is easy to explain.  When I was a kid, they used to go to his church sometimes.  I did not really always remember exactly, but Peter was a member of Mitch's cult for a while.  I'd almost forgotten that." He put the stack of writing on the table, and took her hand in his.  She kept running her fingers over his hairline, and he continued, "I wonder what happened between she and Mitch that ended with her being beaten almost to death?"


"She's not able to really say.  Maybe she can't remember.  She's easily confused, according to Sister."


"Yeah.  Blair, think she can she get well?"


"I don't know.  And it seems Sister Rebecca Katherine doesn't either."


"Poor Sister.  This must have been so terrible for her.  She had to deal with all of this, and then find out it was me.  She must have flipped her habit."


"She loves you so much, Todd."


"I know," he said, and his eyes watered. "What if Bitsy's totally misunderstood, Blair?  What if she can get well and she could be helped?"


"I don't know.  Anything is possible."


"Well, I'll pay whatever it costs."


"I know you will."


He became silent.  Finally he found his words.  "She was so abused for so long.  By Peter and then Mitch.  Doesn't seem right.  She got hurt defending me."


"You were her baby.  I'd do the same for Starr or my sons."  


"I think I'm starting to understand more.  About that."


She smiled, despite the circumstance.  She said, "She thought you were dead.  What a horrible thing."


"The whole thing is horrible, and can only be the life of one man, Todd Manning."  He looked at Blair from her lap, "I'm actually getting used to it more.  Or at least, understanding my sorry excuse for a history."


"Me, too.  I think if you look at it really hard, Todd, you can explain a lot of things to yourself."


He looked at her and then sat up.  "I can't.  Not yet.  First things first, we take care of Momma."


"Yes.  We do.  Then . . ."


"Then we find a way to put Mitch away for good.  The death penalty is calling to him, I can almost hear it."


She was relieved that he was thinking in terms of a legal and safe way of bringing Mitch Laurence down, once and for all.  She had been nervous, since he started reading, that he might revert into the hateful, violent talk.  Instead, he had surprised her with his strength and acceptance of the truth.  It was as if once it was all revealed, he was able to move on, almost instantaneously.  But, she corrected herself, it's not instant, Blair.  Not at all.  It started when he set foot in the Vickerman Premier and revealed himself to us.  And here we are . . .and he still doesn't know. . .


"Todd?"


"Yeah, Babe," he said, now sitting close to her and starting to nuzzle along her neck.  


"There's something you should know, and in light of everything, this is as good a time as ever."


"Is Jack in trouble?"


"No.  I bought something, for us to share."  She got up, and went to her purse, and pulled out a small white bag.  She handed it to him.  


He just looked at her, and she sat back down across from him.  "Open it."


He opened the white bag by unrolling it, undoing the way she had rolled it down, and looked inside.  His expression was priceless to her; his smile, touched with the emotion of disbelief, started at his lips and sprung into his eyes.  "What?  Blair?"


"Well, take it out, so we can open and use it.  I've really got to pee."


Fumbling with the paper, he pulled out the home pregnancy test, and tossed it onto the table, pulling her into his arms.  He hugged her, and kissed her, then said,  "How?"


"How?  If I have to tell you how . . ."


"I mean, I thought . . ."


"I did, too.  But I'm late.  It could be the stress, could be something else.  But it also could be.  You're the one who said that if something happened to us, it would be the opposite of normal people.  And if I am, the baby was made around the day our vows were renewed."


She saw his eyes moisten.  He said, "So, Mrs. Manning . . ."


"Yes, Mr. Manning?"


"You gonna pee, or what?"


"Yes!" she raced to the bathroom, and he followed her, and handed her the test.


She came out wringing her hands.  "What if it's not?"



He said, "What if it is?"


"But if it's not?"  she asked again.  "Will you be disappointed in me?"


"Come on, if it's not, then we wait for the next time.  I don't want you blaming yourself if it's not true."


"It could be anything," she said.  "I'm scared."


He said, "I know you are, but let's put it this way, we have so much already.  Things are coming together.  I mean, I wouldn't say we're normal.  I don't think we'll ever get to that.  We're not like anyone else, Blair.  We're just like us."


"I know, Todd.  I can't ever forget that."  she said, and hearing the timer ring, "I love you.  Are you ready for this, whatever comes?"


"Yeah.  Whatever comes, it's you and me.  It's always been you and me, Blair."

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