Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 87

Blair, having spoken to Timothy at La Boulaie, knew that Todd was with Bitsy, and made her way directly from Statesville to Mountainview.  In the lobby, signing in, she ran into Ray.  He said, "Things are looking up for Bea."

"I'm glad.  I was concerned about her, and I think it's about time something went right for him, Ray.  Honestly."

"I can't say I disagree."

"I need your input.  Mitch Laurence . . ."

"The guy who's responsible for Todd's crypt experience?  The one who, well, is called The Evil One?"

"Yes.  He took the family hostage yesterday.  I am not sure you knew."

"It was all over the news.  Bea saw it; she dealt with it well when she was told the family survived."

"The whole thing has been once continual nightmare for him.  I wanted it to end, so I went to see Mitch myself."

Ray raised an eyebrow.  "Does Todd know this?"

"Not yet."

"And?"

"I made a promise to him, that if he told me what I wanted to know, I'd tell Bea the truth about what happened to her.  Is that something that you think would harm her in any way?"

"What is the truth?"

"It was Peter Manning that caused the 'The Time of Black' and not Mitch."

"How do you know this?"

"I traded information with him.  He's telling the truth.  I can just tell.  He was in love with her."

Ray showed surprised.  "He was."

"Yes."

"I don't think it will hurt her.  Not if the talk of what happened physically is not brought up.  If you talk in abstractions, it should be fine.  I'll have you know, she has decided not to go with the sparrows, and she is communicating with people.  In fact, I just left them, and she was comforting Todd.  Very touching and majorly important for both of them."

Blair was choked up thinking of it.  "Yes.  He needs that, Ray, so much.  He's so hurt.  He needs a mother, and a father, so badly."

"You've got a good understanding of him."

"I should.  He means everything to me."

"Anything else?"

"You may want to know, it all started when he was just five.  And it was very bad, Ray.  That's just a summary."

"I'm sorry Blair.  But I know he's grateful you are here with him.  In the here and now."

"I love him, so much.  Nothing could keep me from being there."

"One thing about Todd, he's going to make it," he said, and patted her shoulder, as he moved on to his next appointment, and Blair rounded the staircase.  

***

Todd pulled out of her embrace, gently, and looked at her.  "Thank you, Momma."

She took her paper out again, and wrote:  You don't have to thank me.  I should have taken better care of you.  I am glad I have the chance now.  By the way, your friend, Ray, is a wonderful man.  He has helped me.  He did not hurt me like the others.

Bea's face changed as she caught sight of something behind him, and he turned.  It was Blair.  "Hey, Babe."

She smiled, and after greeting Sister Rebecca Katherine, she went to him.  He stood and she went into his arms as if she hadn't seen him in months. She closed her eyes, and kept her tears from showing.  She pulled back, saying, "Hello, Bitsy," and kissed the woman on the cheek.  The nun went out the room door, saying she'd leave them to some privacy.

Bitsy went to her pad and wrote, and Todd said, "Where have you been?"

"I . . . went to see Mitch."

Todd's face changed.  "No.  You didn't do that."

"I did.  John was with me.  I just . . . had to get the answers."

He was angry, but it faded, as he gave her the side eye, "Did you?"

"Yes.  I think I did.  Sit down, My Love."

He did, and she took a chair and joined them at the desk.  She said, "Good morning, Bitsy.  How are you feeling?"

Bitsy handed her a note:  I am well.  You are so beautiful.  I am glad my son has you. He needs someone to love him.  Congratulations on being a mommy again.

"Thank you," Blair said, taking the woman's hand.  Blair could see that Todd was still angry.  He folded his arms and just watched the two of them.  She looked at his face and said, "Is this any way to act around the mother of your next baby girl?  Come on, Todd, I'm fine."  He relaxed a little.  She said, "Mitch traded information for me telling Bitsy the truth."

"The truth."

"Yes.  He was in love with her, Todd.  For years."

Bitsy was listening, and then grabbed her pencil and wrote.  Peter Manning did not love me, or Todd.

"No, he didn't.  He was not capable of that."  Blair said.

Then who?

"The Evil One.  Could you be confused?  Do you remember when you went to the cabin to see Todd, and you came back?  You begged Mitch, The Evil One, to let you get Todd back?"

Bitsy nodded.

"When you got back, you asked him to get Todd back for you.  Did he say he would try?"

Bitsy thought a moment, and then nodded slowly.  She wrote, I think I remember that. It's confusing to me.

Todd spoke, "I know what's next."  He was agitated, and stood and paced.  "I know."

Blair just turned and looked at her husband.  She was waiting for the day to end.  Inside her, she was certain that after they put it all to rest, they could get on with their lives.  She said, "What?  What, My Love?"

He walked back to the desk, and practically fell into the chair.  "He . . . whatever he did to me, it was so bad, I was hospitalized.  It took months for me to get better."

Bea was writing, almost not listening to them.  He looked at Blair, "I . . . forgot that.  Until now."

"It's okay," she said.

"It certainly is," a voice said from behind them.  It was Ray.  "It's not only okay, it's expected, Todd."  He looked to Blair.  "I cancelled the next appointment.  This was more important today."  He pulled up a chair.

"I forgot about that day," Todd said, swallowing, "and if it's okay, I'd rather not remember it for very long."  He looked gray-green.  I never remembered any of this.

Bea handed her paper to Ray.  He read it:  This is a gift to me.  I am remembering.  Mitch, you call him, he was going to help me get Todd back.  But it was too late, because Peter told me Todd died, in a car accident.  It was Peter!  He came to the church, he took me, he hurt me with his body and his fists, he brought me to that place.  The jail.  The Evil One, he . . . 

Bitsy had a solitary tear coming down her face.  Todd reached out and brushed it away.  "It's all right, Momma.  It's over now."

"Yes.  Everyone at this table should remember that.  Those things are gone and over,"  Ray said.

The nun returned to the room, to hear the tail end of the conversation.  "I'm glad to hear this.  I didn't think I could take one more revelation.  It's so trying.  We will all move on, and my diamond in the rough, here, has got to create some beautiful art for Hope Week."

Todd looked at the nun, his mother and his wife, and couldn't help but sit back and smile.  "I can't believe how lucky I just felt."

"We're all lucky," Blair said.

"It's the luck of the Irish," the nun piped up.

Bitsy wrote and handed it to Todd, and folded her arms, like he had.  He read her words aloud:  Nothing lucky about it; it's God who brought you back to me, Todd, and I will thank Him every day from my heart.

***

"Ms. Winfield?  I'm Lieutenant John McBain from the LPD."

Jenna's heart sank.  From behind her sister, she could see the policeman at the door.  

"Yes?"

"May I step in?"

"I know what this is about.  You policemen never ask to step in unless it's . . ." her voice died off.

"I'm sorry," John said.  "Your mother has been found."

Jenna, sitting at the table, eating lunch, turned and said, "She's dead?"

John said, "I'm sorry."

Jenna pushed her chair back from the table, and ran out of the room.  "No!" she cried as she went.  It trailed behind her.

The room became silent.

Lynnette said, "How?"

"She was murdered."

Lynnette started to fall as her knees gave way, and John caught her.  He helped her to the sofa and sat beside her.  She was numb; her face had little trace of any emotion, just her mouth agape.  "Why?"

He said, "We have reason to believe she was instrumental in helping an inmate escape."

"Michael?"

"That was his alias, yes.  And, he took a local family hostage."

"Hostage?  That's horrible . . . Wait, not The Mannings?"

"Yes.  He perpetrated a home invasion at the home of Blair's Aunt Dorian."

"Oh My God.  She was with him?  She. . . couldn't have been."

"No. He killed her less than a mile from the jail."

She broke.  "He  . . . she just got him out of there and then . . . he didn't need her anymore?"

"I am sorry," he directed her to his shoulder and put his arms around her.  She flinched and pulled back from him.

"I . . . my apologies, I am just not used to physical contact with strangers," she said.

He said, "My apologies, none from you necessary.  If there is something I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."  He rose from the sofa and headed to the door.  "I'll see myself out."

She watched him go.  "Lieutenant, thank you for coming by in person."

She turned back to the living room, and her eyes rested on the photo of her mother with her and Jenna at a local picnic two years prior, and she fell into sobs.

***

On the limo ride home, Todd was laying across the seat, his head in Blair's lap, and she played with his hair and without warning, a surge of sadness, infiltrated with pity, overcame her, and she cried.  He was brought to alertness by her ragged sigh.  Still having his eyes closed, he said, "Don't, Babe.  It's all over.  I'll be all right."

"Just . . . everything.  I don't know how you do it, Todd.  Or how you've survived."

He couldn't answer, because he didn't know either.  Except for one truth:  she had helped him back to life since he'd known her.  After a few minutes of silence, he opened his eyes, and reached up to take her tears away.  "I've got an appointment next week with Ray.  I'll work through the rest of it.  If I made it this far . . .the rest will be easy, compared."

She nodded.  "I just sometimes think, if someone could have just helped you.  Got you away from there, oh, Todd, I can't bear thinking about it . . ." she broke off into tears.

He swallowed.  "Then don't.  Don't think about it, anymore.  You shouldn't have to."

"But it happened to you.  How can I not think of it?"

"Because I'm not going to.  Or I am going to try.  It should be out of our lives, for good.  I am going to try to keep it out of our daily routine and in therapy, where it belongs."

"You sound so sure."

"I am."  Whatever comes, leave her out of it.  From now on.  It's too much, and she's pregnant now.  Can't risk her losing another child.  Besides, it might not be a bad idea to do exactly what I said.  This is some fucked up shit, and it belongs in a nuthouse therapist's office and NOT in my family's home.  I grew up in a chamber of horrors, no wonder I always felt like a freak . . 

"Todd?  Todd, are you?"

"Am I sure?"

"No, didn't you hear me?  I asked if you're hungry."

"Oh.  No, not really."

She gave him the side eye.  "You're not hungry?  You?  Todd, it's a strange day when you're not ready to eat something.  And you're not sure about keeping this stuff only for therapy either."

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