Failings of the Fathers: 1

Todd fumbled with the key in the door, and Sam was practically begging for him to hurry.  Jack looked as though he would jump out of his skin, as his father attempted to open the doors to Unforgettable.  The dusk was just falling, and the sun was fading behind the mountains, casting a purple glow over them.

Todd turned and said, "Sorry, the key doesn't work.  We can't get in."

Blair, holding Ray by the hand, said, "Todd . . ."

"Just kidding," he turned back to open the door.  Cheers went up from the kids:  Ray jumped up and down in the foyer until he lost his balance and fell forward onto his hands; Jack took the stairs two at a time, with his bags in hand; Sam, still unable to do much than hobble, was shouting, "We're home!" over and over, and waiting at the base of the steps for someone's help.

Todd scooped up Ray, and put him into his pack and play.  "Happy, Buddy?"

"Daddy!  Play!"  he said, joyous.

"He's home," Todd said to Blair.

"We all are," she said.  "I never thought I'd miss it this much, but I did."

"I know.  I did, too."

"So, My Love, what are you thinking?  What do you want to do first, on our first day home?"  She slipped her arms around his back.

"Race ya to the tub?"  he said, smiling into her face.

"Race me?  Is that even fair?  I mean, look at you, and look at me," she said pointing down.

"All right, maybe not a race.  What if I gave you a head start?"

"That could work," she said.

"Someone help me, will ya?  I mean, this mushy stuff is okay, but do I have to wait until it's over to get upstairs?"  Sam bellowed, impatiently.

"I'll get him up there, you get Ray, take your head start, and make good use of it."  Todd said to his wife, and watched her go up the flight of stairs.  He turned to Sam.  "Well, Buddy, you ready?"

"I've been ready, Dad!"

"Okay," he said, hoisting the boy under the arms, and bringing him up the staircase.  At the top, he set him down, with his crutches, and let him hobble his way to his room.  

Making certain he got there, he then went to the master bedroom suite.  "Hey, Babe, you in here?  Blair?"  he went into the bathroom, and saw her, lying on the floor.  Blood was coming out of a wound above her right eye.  "No, not this," he said, softly.

She was lying on the ground, blood coming from her side, and she looked up past him, and said, "There's God coming down. . ."

In seconds, he was at her side.  "Hey, Blair," he said, panicking, but attempting not to make his voice sound frightened, "Babe?  You awake?  You okay?"

She stirred, and opened her lids.  Outside of one other time he could remember, he'd never been so relieved to see the green of her eyes staring into his.  She said, "Todd?  What did I do?"

"I don't know, you tell me.  Let me get you up off this cold tile."  He bent to sit her up, and then to standing, and once she was on her feet, he picked her up in his arms and brought her to the bed.  "Okay, tell, me, what happened?"  He went to the bathroom again to get a towel with cold water.

Blair felt a trickle of blood coming onto her forehead and touched it.  "Oh, great.  What the heck did I do?"

"Come on, look at me, can you see me okay?"  He asked.

She touched his cheek, "Calm down, it's okay.  I'm fine, don't get upset, Todd.  I just fell.  I leaned over to pick up my earring that dropped when I was taking them off, and I just must have lost my balance or something."

"Or your blood pressure is up.  What did the doctor tell you about that?"  he said, taking the towel and patting her injury carefully.

"I don't think it's that," she said, but admitted to herself that her heart was racing.  "I stood back up from picking up my earring, and then, I just remember waking up and seeing you.  You look pale, Mr. Manning."

He said, "How am I supposed to look?  You were hurt.  It . . .I'm just glad you're okay."

"I'm okay, I told you that.  You . . . it reminded you of something.  I think I know."

He didn't answer, instead, he just pressed the cloth to her head, and held it there, looking away from her eyes.

"It reminded you of the courthouse."  She saw him take a ragged deep breath, but continue to avoid her stare.  She took her hand and brought it to his chin, turning his head to face her.  He looked into her eyes, and she saw it.  Dread.  She said, "No."

He looked at her questioningly.  She continued, "No, Todd.  That's over.  It's not God or anyone else paying you back for things you did.  It was me, being stupid, lost my head and fell."  Then her voice went to a whisper.  "I'm okay.  I really am."

The cut was very small, under the guise of the bloody mess it appeared to be.  He looked at it, and kissed beside it.  "You might need to see a doctor.  For the cut, the head, and the reason it happened."

"You're avoiding what I said, but that's okay.  You don't want to think about Sommer's death, and neither do I.  We have Jewel on the way, and that's what we need to focus on.  But nothing that happens to us is because some force owes you a punishment, Todd.  You have to find a way to let go of that, once and for all."

He let out a sigh that made him appear slightly defeated, and sat next to her.  "Who said you could know me that well?"

"I did."  She smiled.  "The Mom's in charge, remember?"

He nodded, and looked to his hands, that had some blood on them, and still held the towel in their grip. "I can't lose you.  Ever."

"I know, you won't."  She got up slowly, "I'll call Dorian, she'll come over and check me.  Will, you feel better about that?  And before you say you want a real doctor, let me say that she is a real one."

He made no protest, just watched her move around the room, and make her phone call.  He realized that he felt physically ill from the fear that had gripped him when he saw her on her back, pregnant, facing the skylight near their tub.  He breathed slowly, and then got up, washing the towel out in the sink.  She came and poked her head in.  "She's coming by soon.  I sent Williams after her, is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," he said, wringing it out again, and washing his hands.  She looked at his hands, and said, "You're shaking.  You need a hot bath."

"Not too hot," he said, drying his hands on a different towel.  She put her hands into the sink to wash them as well.

He took her hands, and washed them gently in his, using sweet-smelling soap and warm water.  Then he dried them.  She smiled at him, of course hearkening back to her past.  "You always did take care of me, Todd."

"You take care of me, too."

He ran the bath.

***

"Good morning," Timothy said.  He came into the room, and lifted the shade.  "Ya might want the sun, it's a bright day."

"Morning," Aiden said, turning over in the bed and looking to his father.  "You're here early."

"I am.  I brought you this," he handed him a bag, and inside was a traditional Irish breakfast.  

"I don't know how ya managed this one in Switzerland, but I thank ya," Aiden said, slipping the covered plate out of the bag, and unwrapping it.  "Black sausage, Pappy?  How did ya do this?"

"I have my ways, or let's say y'ar brother does."  Timothy sat at the edge of the bed.

"Ah, I thought it might have to do with that somehow."  

"He had the items sent here, to a local breakfast shop, and paid them to create it." 

"I see.  Why not ask the cooks here, though?"

"He must have had enough experience here to know there would not be a chef on board that could accomplish it.  And from the looks of this tray," he said, fingering Aiden's previous night's leftovers, "he may have been right."

"Oh, that he was,"  Aiden said, eating with relish.

"I want to talk to ya about y'ar brother, if ya have a minute and want to hear."

"Of course.  I want ya to know I've already accepted him as my brother and I'll continue to treat him that way."

"I know.  This is more about Todd than ya, what I have to say.  I spoke to him, and to Bridgette, when they landed in the states."

"And?"  He continued to devour his meal.

"First, Blair said he had a terrible night after being here.  Something about seeing images of his father, or imagining seeing him, everywhere.  Here, the airport.  The boy was tangled."

"His father.  Pappy, when are ya going to tell me what happened to Todd?  I want to understand," Aiden said, crinkling his forehead in bewilderment.

"Ya know most of it.  He was a cruel and sick man.  Todd and his mother were tormented by him.  Tortured, abused.  For years."  He paused.  "In every way possible."

Aiden stopped chewing, swallowed what he had in his mouth, and put down his fork.  "Both of them?"

"Yes.  Todd was a very small boy when it all began.  Some of it when he was only three years old."

Aiden just sat, staring at the ceiling.  "I don't even want to know the details.  I don't understand how a man can do those things to a child, or to anyone else, for that matter."

"I can't tell the whole story, it would take hours.  But it came to a point where he needed a father, and I needed a son.  And, he saved my life, paid for my transplant, got me into recovery.  He's my boy.  I love him as if he were me own."

Aiden nodded.  "I can accept that.  It makes no difference to me."

"I know this.  But he needs to know it, more than ya realize.  He . . . almost shattered apart, several times throughout his life.  He's just getting to the point where things may turn out all right for him."

Aiden swallowed, and his eyes were glistening in the morning sun that poured through the window onto his bed.  "He was, well, to us, The Great Scar.  We thought of him as some folk hero, some kind of supernatural thing," he said, "It became a mystique that we all looked to as a guide.  In reality, he was just a man, like us," Aiden looked at his father.  "And that means he was once a boy."

"Yes, he was.  And he has faced things far worse than the story ya have crafted based on truth.  Far worse, and ya must trust me with that."

"Well, all right.  I can start by calling him to thank him for this breakfast."

"Wait, there's more, Eric.  More I want to tell ya."

***

Todd and Blair were just stepping out of the bath, when they heard the doorbell ringing.  "It's Dorian," Blair said, sitting on the bed and dressing into comfortable clothing for being around home.  She was grateful to be able to do so, and happy to leave Ireland behind.

"I'll go let her in," he said, pulling a long-sleeved thermal over his pajama pants.  Their clocks were all off.  It was definitely going to be a lazy evening at home for The Mannings.

Within a few moments, he was back, and Dorian was with him.  She headed directly to Blair.  "Are you all right, Sweetheart?"

"I'm fine, I keep telling people," she looked at Todd.

"Gotta be sure," he said.  He sat in the sitting area, and then got the idea to create a fire.

"This wound is not so bad.  Any headaches?"  Dorian asked.

"Aside from everyone worrying, no."

"Dizziness?"

"No."

"Feel drowsy, like you cannot stay awake?"

"No."

"You probably don't have a concussion, but Todd, you had better watch her.  If she has any of those things going on . . ."  She applied a butterfly bandage to her cut, and then continued to check her pulse, and listen to the baby's heart.

"I will, I promise."

"He was right.  Probably your blood pressure.  I suggest total bedrest for a while.  Maybe longer than you think if you keep having things like this happen.  I want you to see your doctor in the morning, and no avoiding it."

"I will," she said.  "I'm really all right."

"Well, good.  I trust, Todd, you'll keep her on track?"  She called over to him.

Finally getting the fire to ignite, he said, "Of course.  No one is a bigger mother hen than me.  That is, aside from you, Auntie Dorian."

"Yes, well, fine."  She got up from her place in front of Blair.  "Here's an extra butterfly kit, Todd.  In case that one has to be changed."

There she was, sitting on the bed, her belly full of his daughter, and a little white patch on her forehead.  She was so beautiful.  Her hair was wet at the ends from the bath, and he reviewed how good it had been, just a short while before, in the tub, kissing her, being inside her. . . He shook that loose from his mind, and said, "Sure."

"Make certain."  Dorian said.  "I guess I should be on my way.  Timothy is going to be Skyping me, and I don't want to miss it."

"Skype, huh?"  Todd asked.

"Yes, Jack taught us how.  Back in Ireland.  Timothy now loves his 'blasted contraption.'  That phone you gave him, Todd, is such a nuisance to him."

"He'll probably see things differently now, Dorian, after it keeps him in touch with you.  Did he say how Aiden was doing?"  Todd asked.

"He said they are all doing fine.  He'll be home soon.  He made special note of telling me how much he missed you, Todd."

"Hmf.  That's my Old Man.  Thanks, Dorian, for coming here."

"No problem.  Mind if I hitch a ride with Williams?"

"Of course not.  That's what he's here for," Todd said.  He turned and saw Blair's mouth hanging slightly open.  "I know, you thought you were watching a pair of pod people."

She laughed, "Yes.  That's what I thought."

"Well, it's the way it is, at least for now.  We may as well enjoy it."

"That's true."

"Why don't you lie back and rest.  I'll be sitting right here, working on my tablet," he crawled onto the bed.

"All right.  That sounds good," she said, and she pushed herself back onto the bed, so that she was propped against the pillows.  She rested one of her hands, on his thigh, and closed her eyes.  

"Blair," he said.

"Yes?"

"Can you move that hand about six inches up?"

"Todd!  You're fresh, and insatiable.  We just made love in the tub before Dorian got here."

"I know.  Just seeing if you were awake and able to remember things.  I was testing you.  To see if you had a head injury, of course."

"Well, did I pass?"

"Sure.  Get some rest, and I'll show you the rest of the test later."

She settled back and closed her eyes.  He worked on his tablet, but after a few minutes of hearing her soft, soothing, breathing next to him, he fixed his eyes on her.  She was perfect.  In all his years, he'd never seen anyone as beautiful as she was.  To his eyes, she was everything.  He turned back to his tablet, and closing it, he moved himself next to her, so that he could lie right by her and watch her sleep.  He propped his head on his hand, and used his elbow as support.  "Don't you ever scare me again like that," he softly said.

***

"What's the rest, then?"  Aiden asked.  

Timothy sighed before starting.  "He was given up by his mother.  Given to another mother, who was abused horribly by the step-father.  That's the father he's been seeing, imagining.  The same one he imagined at the cottage, when he lived with Aman and Lily.  His birth father was a pedophile, ironically, the step-father was that and more, a pure sadist.  He has nothing, though he has it all to some.  The money, the power, means nothing to him.  Only his family matters.  And he has lost them and won them, over and over.  This time, he's hoping to keep them."

Aiden, sniffed, tipping his head back slightly to stop tears.  "What else, Pappy?"

"About the RA21.  You should know.  He's converting the entire Courtown Demesne to a hotel and resort.  He's put Colin in charge."

"Hah!" Aiden laughed, despite the seriousness of the talk, "Yes.  I can see this."

"He's also arranged for all of them to have jobs there, and to run it in his absence.  He's bought a house for them all to live in as well, as long as they want to.  He's provided them all with insurance for health, he's made certain they never have to return to their underground roots again.  Generally, he's given them new lives, he has."

Aiden didn't care anymore if the tears flowed or not; he sat, stoic, and let them run.  "My God.  That is more than generous.  What will they do, all of them?  They'll have to start over, or they would."

"I don't know, whatever they can.  I know Jimmy grew up on a farm, he has always wanted to have a stable.  So it seems, that will open again."

"That's what he'd want, the old man.  Horses.  Capalls.  Free Spirits."

"Colin will run it, he has the business mind.  For certain.  Owen, he will oversee the books for Todd.  You know he was a numbers cruncher back in the day.  Darren will head security."

"William, he will be the head chef?  Always wanted to do that.  He makes a mean Irish stew, he does."

Timothy nodded.  "Ya see, there's hope for them.  The Men of 21 being gone, does not leave them without purpose.  It will give them something to aim for, and a reason.  Maybe some of them can start new lives, have families, possibly.  They will move on, Son.  Just as ya should do as well."

Aiden used his arm to wipe the tears from his cheeks.  "I'm going to try.  He's giving me that chance, my brother.  What can I do in return?  I can only think of one thing."

"Then that is the thing you should do, Eric."

Aiden folded his hands in his lap.  "Can I use y'ar phone, Pappy?"

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