Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 82

Jack walked into the cubicle where his parents were.  His father had his head rested on the edge of his mother's bed, and Blair was dozing with her hand in his, under his cheek.  He wished he had his cell phone, because the picture was something he knew said everything about them in one glimpse.  He stepped a little closer, and softly said, "Mom?"

She opened her eyes, and smiled at him.  "Hey, Son, how you doing?"

"Good.  How are you doing?"

"I'm okay.  Just feel wiped."

"Your jaw is purple and swollen."

"Yeah.  They thought I might have a concussion, but I don't think so.  They should be back to tell me in a few minutes."

"How's Dad?"

"Physically, he's okay.  I worry about him a little, you know, he's been through so much, but he was stitched up and seems to be all right."

"I'm perfect," he said, and turned his head so that his chin was now resting on the edge of the bed.  Then he sat up, and still held her hand.  "I'm perfect because none of you are gone from me.  That's what we call a win-win in business."

"You okay, Dad?"  Jack asked, and his hand went onto Todd's shoulder.

Todd nodded, "I'm okay.  Be better if I got to hug my boy, though."

Jack went to reach down, and Todd stood up, and embraced his son.  "Hey, what about me?"  Sam said, walking in, followed by Starr who had Hope in her arms.  Todd let go of Jack and scooped Sam up, slower and more cautious than usual; he could feel his stitches pulling.  "Hey Buddy, how are ya?  You were a hero, I hear.  A regular Spiderman."

"I wasn't, Dad.  I was crying a lot."

"That's okay.  I cry.  Everyone does.  Even Jack," Todd said, giving his older son a sideways glance.

"I cried like a big baby."  Sam said.

"But you got Hope out.  You got away.  That's the important thing.  You were just like Spiderman."

"No, I was like you, Dad.  Spiderman's fake.  You're real."  Sam put his arms around Todd's neck, and rested his chin over his shoulder.  "I'd rather be like you."  

Todd patted his back, and said, "And I'd rather be . . . like you, Sam."  His voice just slightly wavered, and Blair caught it.  No one else did, and the next step was embracing Starr and Hope, and the kids kissing Blair on the not-purple side, and the talk milled around to going home.  

Timothy interrupted.  "Is this shining clan ready to go home now?"

"Yay!"  Sam exclaimed, and Blair shushed him, reminding him they were in a hospital.

"All right then, all of ya, go and get y'ar things together.  I called Williams for y'ar parents, he is on his way.  We'll have a family ride in my jalopy to Unforgettable and get us all tucked in and happy for the night."

"Starr, I'd like it if you and Hope came home with us."  Todd said.  "I don't think you'd want to be alone at  La Boulaie right now anyway."

"No, and we'd love to.  It will be like old times.  I love you, Dad."  She kissed his cheek, and leaned over to her mother, "I love you, too, Mom."

Timothy ushered the kids off, and then turned to Todd.  Putting his arms out, he put them around the younger man unexpectedly and folded him in, and for a moment, Todd looked to Blair like a child.  Timothy said, "I'm proud of ya, I love ya, and I'm here for ya if ya need to talk."

Todd closed his eyes and brought in some air, and then patted the older man's back.  "Thank you.  I think I will, and I plan on taking you up on that."  He pulled away, and couldn't meet the man's eyes.  Too much was welling inside him, and he turned instead to Blair.  He said, "Are you ready to get out of here?"

"We can't go yet.  Unless they release me.  Maybe they forgot about us.  I'm sure there are a lot more people who need attention around here than we do."

"Probably, but I'll go see."  Todd said, and walked out in search of a nurse's station.

Timothy said, "You're all right, Bridgette?"

'I'm all right, Dad."  She put her arms out and he hugged her, and could feel her begin to shake a little, and pulled back.  

"You're crying, dear.  What is it?"

"It's . . . everything.  It was quite an ordeal.  We barely got to get home and deal with Chicago."

"Just give me a heads up, was it bad for him?"

"Yes.  It was bad for him.  It was bad for me, but in a different way.  I felt like I was in a terrifying film.  I was glad I was there, though, because he never could have faced it if he were alone.  He . . . I can't understand how he takes all this."

"I feel for him.  Does he remember everything, ya think?"

"Yes.  He does.  It was hard, but he pulled himself together.  I am very proud of him.  He chose us, Dad. He really did."

"He did and he chose life, Bridgette.  He chose to live, not shrivel and die.  A very big accomplishment for him.  He's spent too much of his life dying, and he's slowly been taking life as his comrade instead.  He'll be all right."

"Will you talk to him?  Or listen, I guess?"

"Of course, I meant what I said, and I could tell he means it too.  I promise, he'll come out of this better than rain.  I'm going to get going.  Ya deserve to have a bit of time alone before coming home to the troops.  I'll see ya soon.  And, there just may be a surprise for ya when ya get there."

"All right, thank you."  She waved weakly, and waited for Todd.  She thought back to the moment they discovered the secret room in the house he grew up in, and her stomach curled uncomfortably.  Todd was right.  It would be better to be Sam.  It would even be better to be anyone.  To have grown up like even like me would have been better than living in that house.  

He interrupted her thoughts, with a pull on the curtain and a doctor.  "Hey, you," he said.  "The doctor wants to tell us something."

Todd folded his arms, and for some reason, she found his demeanor odd, as if he were worried.  She knew it was probably just Todd being Toddian where she was concerned, and directed her attention at the doctor.

***

The ride home to Unforgettable was uneventful.  Sam passed out asleep on the backseat, as did Hope in her car seat.  Starr sat in the back with them, looking out the window.  Jack, sitting beside Timothy, was quiet and resigned.  After a while, he said, "Timothy, eh, Grandpa, is Dad going to be all right?"

"Jack, stop y'ar worrying.  Your father's choices today show that yes, he's going to be all right.  The fact that he did not kill that man dead when he had the chance, shows where his heart is.  With all of ya, and nowhere else."

"I was so scared," Starr spoke from the back.  "I thought he was going to just shoot him through the head.  I really did, for a moment, I thought, 'we're going to lose Dad again, just like before.'  Then, he just....put the gun down, slowly, and that was that," her voice broke.

"He loves ya.  The one thing he has always had that no one could touch or ruin is his love for ya."  Timothy said.  "All of ya are very lucky children to have a father who loves ya as much as he does."

Jack gulped, and turned to the window.

"I think we all know we are," Starr said.

Jack said, "What happened to him?  In Chicago?  He was different.  He said things I don't understand."

"Ya will, when he feels it's right.  Give him time, Lad.  Give him time."

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