Chasing the Monsters: 31

"Todd, it's Sister Rebecca Katherine."

"Ah, Sister, top o' the morning to ya," he mocked.

"Now, Todd, ya know ya can't be mocking y'ar old aunt and still get the information I have for ya."

"All right, Sister, I'll be nice.  How are you?"

"I'm fine.  And ya and y'ar family?"

"Great.  Things are good.  Really good," he said, turning on his side and watching Blair in her short silk nightie brushing her hair.

"I'm glad.  Y'ar mother will be making a visit, I hear."

"Yeah, she's coming today.  I'll be going to pick her up in an hour or two.  I think I'll copter it, take Jack with me for the ride."

"That's wonderful, really.  I just wanted to tell ya how excited she is, and how much she wants to be there."

"I know, she could barely contain herself on the phone."

"I just thought that ya should know, she's been . . . painting."

"Yeah, she mentioned it.  Not sketching but painting.  That's cool.  She's done a lot of nice work, I heard from Ray."

"She has."

He waited, and it was silent.  He said, "What's the matter?  You're . . . not telling me something."

"Not yet, no."

"Well?  Sister?  Buck up, let's go."

"She's been painting interesting subjects of late."

"Yeah, she's got a good eye.  What of it?"

"She's also taken to painting people."

"And?"

"Her most recent one is a large one, sprawling actually, and the subject is, well, Mitch Laurence."

He was silent.  He cleared his throat, "Laurence?"

"Yes.  Seems she is quite taken with the memory of him."

Blair said, "The last man who made her feel safe."  

He repeated her words.

"Yes, ya understand her already.  I knew ya would.  Just thought ya should know in case the subject came up.  Treat her kindly, Lad."

"Of course.  She's Momma, there's no other way to treat her."

"Precisely.  Love ya, my nephew.  And say hello to the babbies and the wife."

"I will, Sister."

He hung up.  For a moment, he just stared into the fireplace, where the embers from the previous night's fire were still softly glowing.  Blair turned to him, "Hey, you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.  Momma's coming.  That's good.  She's been painting Mitch."

Blair sat on the edge of the bed.  "I heard." 

"The bastard."

"She doesn't know everything, Todd."

"I know."

"She only knows that he . . . loved her."

"Ugh, on an empty stomach?"

"Well, it's true.  She only remembers his love.  She doesn't know anything else about him, except the home invasion, maybe, and she might not be all clear on that either."

"She was so out of it then."

"She was.  So sad.  She's so much better now, Todd."

"I know, I'm . . .  glad about that.  I just . . . this Mitch thing.  She has to be told."

"It will be okay.  She will find out, in her own time, Todd.  She just . . . she only remembers him as her savior, he saved her from Peter.  That's what she knows.  And, as hard as it is to believe, she loved him."

He rubbed his hands over his face.  "Shit."

"He did save her, Todd.  Regardless of what that meant for you."

"I guess, yeah."

"He saved her sanity, as well.  At least, until Peter tried to kill her.  Think about that."

He stopped, and he did what Blair asked.  He thought about his mother, being brutalized by Peter and then going into the arms of debonair, slick Mitch Laurence.  It was the hand she had been dealt.  "She . . . needed someone, I guess.  Doesn't make it easier."

"No, I guess not."

"Well, I'd better get up and get ready.  I'll copter over to get her.  Does Jack know?"

"That he's going?  I don't know."

"I'll go get him."

"Don't bother," she said, "I have to go by there to get to Jewel's room.  Time for her breakfast.  I'll tell him."

"Okay," he said, turning onto his back.  His hands were under his head, and his elbows flanked his ears.  He looked at the skylight in the ceiling, and for a moment, he thought he saw several small birds through it, and he blinked his eyes, quickly, until the sight of them was gone.  He sat up, abruptly, and then threw off the covers, to go and prepare himself for the day.

It wasn't twenty minutes later when Jack showed up at the door of the master bedroom, and said, "Dad?  You ready?"

"Almost.  You?"

"Yep.  We're going to get Grandma Bitsy, right?"

"Yeah, right.  Coptering."

"Okay, cool."  He sat on the edge of the bed.  

"So, where's Jenna lately?"

"Busy, doing an art portfolio for placement classes.  She's really into this college thing."

"Good for her," Todd said, trying not to show his disdain for the fact that Jack had opted out.

"You're still mad at me, right?"

Todd finished the last of his daily hygiene routine, and turned to his son, dragging a towel over his face and neck where he had just shaved.  "No, I'm not mad at you, I'm just . . . trying to understand.  Give you some space to do your own thing."

Jack looked at his shoes.  "It's okay, I guess."

"What is?"

"Being a copyboy."

"You don't sound convinced."

"Yeah."

The room was silent as Todd grabbed his jacket, and went toward the glass wall.  "You coming?"

"Yeah, I'm down," his son said, following.

They climbed into the helicopter, and Jack said, "A big change."

"Hm?  From?"

"How it used to be, for you.  When you first started out."

Todd nodded.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Jack," he said, handing him the earphones they both would wear on the way, to be able to speak to each other.

"What if I told you that . . . I'm starting to, sort of, well, rethink things."

"About?"

"College."

"I'd say, okay, let's talk, I guess."

Jack got very quiet and turned his attention out the window.  Then he said, "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Think I'll be punished, sometime?"

"No."

"Like in the future, something bad will happen to me, or to my wife or my kids, because of what I did?"

Todd was careful.  He'd always believed, himself, that all the pain that had been brought to Blair and their children was his fault:  a result of his actions in the past.  Karma's a bitch.  "Nope.  Doesn't work that way, ask your mother."

Jack was silent again, for a while.  Then he said, "What's it like to love someone that much?"

"It's the greatest and the worst thing there is."  Jack turned quickly to his father, and Todd glanced sideways, without taking his eyes off the controls.  He said, "The greatest because she makes everything okay.  The worst because every day, I run the risk of losing her."

"I don't know, she's got it pretty bad for you, too."

"Not as bad as I do."

"I think it's pretty even, Dad.  Really.  I mean, she takes you back, well, she did, over and over.  She forgave everything that was ever wrong."

"It shouldn't be like that.  There shouldn't be an 'over and over.'  That means I hurt her too often."

Jack looked back out the window, "She forgives you, I can tell.  She's crazy about you."

"She is, huh?"   Todd half-smiled.

"Yeah.  When you weren't here, she was, well, weird sometimes with Zeus.  And after they broke up, she was never right, always looking for something.  Most of the guys were total assholes.  I used to tell her, but she didn't listen.  She was probably looking for you."

Todd realized the magnitude and accuracy of his son's words.  "You were always looking out for her, huh?"

"Yeah.  Like that Eli guy,  I never liked him.  Turned out to be a psycho killer, who almost murdered her."

Todd's chest tightened.  What would I have done if I fought my way back for eight years, and she was dead?  "Bad Dude, huh?"

"She thought she killed him, shot him and everything."

"That's your mother.  Believe me."  Jack smiled, and in that moment, even out of the corner of his eye, Todd could see Blair in his son, more than anything else.  He said, "I guess it's lucky she did."

"Yeah.  She was never really right without you.  And I only figured it out when I first saw her after you came back.  You weren't even together, you just showed up, at the premier.  The night after that, when we got home, she was totally different.  She was moving like she was in some kind of haze.  It was like something had changed, but nothing had, at the same time.  I'll never forget that.  And, the first time I saw you, at the cabin, I watched her face more than anything else.  It was like I'd never seen her before."

Todd nodded, and remembered exactly the day Jack was talking about:

Todd breathed deeply and sighed.  "Jack, you know, I can tell you why.  I was twisted up inside.  I was afraid.  I was scared your mother would never love me, and I was scared of loving you.  I thought you were another man's child, and that's not an excuse for what I did, because there is none.  But, it's the reason I did it.  I was too cowardly to accept it otherwise.  When I found out you were mine, I did everything I could to bring you back.  And I lied, to your mother, and I hid your illness from her.  I did all of that because I was not a whole man.  I've made a lot of mistakes, but it doesn't mean I don't love you."

Blair noticed Jack's face softening, and his posture sinking a bit into the couch.  Todd continued, "Every day while I was gone, I repeated your name, your mother's, your sister's, over and over to myself."

"That makes no sense.  Why would you do that?"

Todd stopped for a moment.  "I can't explain all of it, but trust me, it made sense.  I was being held against my will, and the people who had me wanted information from me.  So I went through a lot of things that were difficult and sometimes made me feel like I might lose my mind.  So, I held on to the only thing I had and loved, and that was you three.  It was my way of coping,"  He paused, "Jack, look at me, can you?"

Jack acquiesced.  Todd continued, "I am sorry for what I did.  I can't take it back.  But, your mom forgave me, and I am so lucky that she did.  It's up to you if you want to forgive me or not, but believe me, I am your father."

Jack did not respond, but his eyes lingered on Todd's for a few additional moments.  "All right, so say you are.  If you are, then you'll be able to forgive us, right?"

Todd half smiled, "For what?"

"For anything.  Like, something we did wrong."  

He shook himself loose from the memory.  "Hmf," Todd continued, "I guess the first time we met, formally, was in Viki's cabin.  You were different than I thought, and brazen, like I imagined."

"How was I different?"

"You knew I was your father.  You hardly questioned it."

"I kinda knew as soon as you showed up.  Told everyone, at the house.  The first night, Mom was so weird.  I knew, even told Starr you probably were our real Dad.  The next morning, Mom was out at the crack of dawn, basically, to go and see you in the jail.  I was like, 'yeah, it's him.'"

He swallowed, "I remember."

"Anyway, she's never been right until you came back, and I couldn't see it, until you were there.  Starr knew, she said, inside somewhere.  Mom was different than she remembered her to be when you were there."

"You don't say?"

"Even with Zeus, she was never like she is now."

"What, screwed up?"

Jack laughed, "No,"  he paused.  "Happy."

They flew the rest of the way in mostly silence, Jack staring out the window over the land, and Todd soaking in what his son had said.  Happy.  The elusive butterfly of his world.  Did he really make her happy?  He remembered so much angst and sadness, but at the same time, he knew his son was right, because he was never the same without her either, and it had started when he came back from Ireland, before Starr was born, to find her with Patrick Thornhart.

If he had just been able to put aside his jealous ire and love her.  Things would have been different, but then, much of what they had now might not even exist.  What struck him strangest was that Patrick's name did not even make a slight tightness in his chest or fists, it was like any other name.  It no longer had the same meaning, and time passing, a few lives saved on both sides, had deadened the power of Patrick in his psyche, as a threat, and washed it away.  Of course, when thinking of Patrick, his thoughts couldn't help but rest on Marty, and he hoped, with a lump in his throat, that she was all right, and finally at peace and able to move on.  

It had been a long road, for all of them.

Jack said, "Dad?  Did you hear me?"

"No, I didn't, what is it?"

"You flew over Mountainview and past it."

"Oh, my bad," he said, dipping and turning around.  They landed on the lawn, as customary for Todd Manning.

Both hopped out, and Bitsy was already on the lawn not far away.  She waved, her calico dress blowing in the wind behind her, and her hand held a wide-brim hat on her head.  Todd noticed she still wore white bobby socks in her loafers and a small pang of realization came to him, remembering his own fascination with white socks for a large part of his early life.  "Momma!" he called out and started to walk to her.  He embraced her, and looking over her shoulder to Jack as they turned, he smiled.

Jack took his turn hugging his grandmother, and then, dutifully picked up her luggage.  Todd grabbed her other bag, and her art portfolio, the large, leather one he had bought her.  He said, "Come on, Momma.  Hop in."

"Oh I love being in the whirlybird, Todd!"  she said, still childlike in her words and actions.

Jack packed the luggage carefully and climbed into the back of the cab.  "Let Grandma Bitsy have the front, Dad, she can see more that way."

"All right.  Momma, that okay with you?"

"Oh, yes, thank you, Jack," she said, climbing in beside her son.  "This will be like, sort of like a bird, again, Todd.  Like flying."

"It is flying, remember?"

"Yes, I remember.  It's so much fun."

He smiled.  Turning a few dials, he lifted off, and Bitsy was pulling at her belt to make sure it was tightly fastened.  Then she folded her hands and looked outside through the glass.  "Beautiful as ever," she said.  "You were always fascinated with flying.  And with birds."

Todd didn't respond, instead, he looked ahead and concentrated on getting them home.

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