Chasing the Monsters: 41 (mild adult)

She scrolled through more pages of The Sun website.  It was difficult to have hacked into, and it took months to do, but she was in, thanks to her husband's computer work.  She could read everything, even Publisher Todd Manning's notes, if she so chose.  But her focus was on the last year, especially the outcome of the death of Peter Manning.

It had started when almost a year before, she had stumbled on the news of the killing of Peter Manning at the hands of his ex-wife, Bitsy.  Once she had discovered that she was alive, she had no time for surprises.  She learned that news at about the same time that she learned Peter was, once and for all, dead.

She didn't like what she had read since then.  Too much commotion, not good for anyone to be exposed to that kind of trauma, day in and day out.  The trauma caused by being involved with the likes of Todd Manning was something she was familiar with, and detested.  It had caused more trouble in her life than anything else ever had.  In some ways, it had brought her good things, some temporary good things, but very few long-lasting good things.  

It was a good thing that Peter was dead; from what she understood, he gave nothing positive to the world, and was likely the cause of things that had been done to her and others by Todd.  But it didn't matter; now, Todd was the cause of pain for people who didn't deserve it, and she was going to find a way to stop that from happening.

So she'd asked him, the love of her life, to help her, and at first, he was hesitant.  He resisted for a while, until she made him see.  Yes, it was unethical.  Yes, it was even crossing the line.  But it was nothing worse than what Todd had done himself to others and to her over the years.  But now, it was affecting innocent people, and her man had stepped in and even though his methods were suspect, it was going to get the job done, in the long run.  She just wondered how long it would take to get the desired results.

She took her glass of wine and sipped.  The warming liquid went down her throat smoothly, and since it was her second glass, it was working its magic to relax her.  She scrolled more, and added a new clipping to her clippings file, and at first glance, it appeared like an electronic scrapbook.  She glanced over it, and then clicked "save."  Things would go her way, it would just take time.

***

Jack didn't know what to say to his grandmother.  Instead, he just held her hand and led her back to the sitting area.  He gently tightened his arm around her shoulders as the silence continued.  He knew she was crying, and he had caused her tears by telling her the things that had transpired that she never knew about.  He wasn't sure how she knew Mitch Laurence, or what she'd known of him, but he thought she should know what he knew about him, at least.  Now, he wasn't sure.

It was then that his parents made their way up the stairs.  Ray, Jewel and Sam were still sleeping, and when Blair first appeared at the doorway, with Todd right behind her, they both seemed surprised to see Jack, sitting with Bitsy on the sofa.  

Jack looked up, and his eyes were red-rimmed.  He said, "I blew it, you might as well know right off."

"No, Jack," Bitsy finally said.  "You did nothing wrong."

"If anyone blew it around here," Todd said, stepping into the room, and removing his jacket, "it's me, your good old Dad."

Jack said, "You don't get it."

"Oh, I get it."  He walked toward the sitting area.  "Momma, I'm sorry.  I lost my cool.  I shouldn't have done that.  Blair made me see that . . . well. . .it's your choice."

"Yes, it is," Bitsy said, with tears still evident on her face, "and I don't need to see Mitch Laurence.  Ever."

Todd and Blair both showed surprise at her response, and Blair folded her arms.  "Jack, can you explain this?"

"I can, but I'd rather not," her son said, moving nervously in his seat.

Bitsy spoke up.  "Don't, please.  None of this anyone's fault.  Especially not Jack's.  He was  . . . just trying to make me understand you, Todd.  He did a very good job, and I'm grateful," she said, squeezing his hand.

Jack stood up.  "I think I should let you all talk this out, without me.  I'll go make sure the kids are okay," he said, leaving the room.

Bitsy waited until he had left, and said, "A fine young man.  When he talks, I see pieces of you and Blair in his eyes."

Blair teared up, and Todd said, "He's a good guy.  Made mistakes and learned.  More than a lot of people can say."

"He . . . was telling me, the truth," Bitsy said.

"My God," Blair said, quietly, "the things you never knew."

"No, I never knew.  Did he hurt you, Blair?  I . . ." she cried, "I can't bear it if he hurt you."

She went to her mother-in-law's side.  "No, not really.  He just scared me a little.  Todd came to save me, actually," she said, looking up to him with her eyes brimming.  She could see the woman was fearing the worst.  "No.  No, Momma.  Nothing like that."

"I know what it's called, I just can't say it," she said, to her hands.

Blair said, "It's all right," hugging the woman.  "Don't cry anymore, please."

"Todd?"  Bitsy said.

"Yeah?"

"Todd, the things he did . . . to you.  To your family.  They were very bad things.  He does not deserve anything.  Did he really kill that young girl's mother?"

Todd nodded.  Blair said, "Yes, Momma."

"It's confusing.  I . . . he saved me.  He . . ."

"Momma, it's all right, really."  Blair said, comforting the woman.  

***

She'd tell him today.  Whenever he got in, regardless of time, she'd tell him it was time.  Time to make the grand move, and get things right.  Precious time was wasting.  Lives were in jeopardy, important lives.  Well, one important life, that meant more than the others, at least in her eyes.  Things had changed.  People had come to mean less and different things to her over the last two or three years.  Her children were protected, but there were still lives in peril from being poisoned by Todd Manning's legacy.  Whatever that was.  Her husband would agree; he'd have to.

She remembered back to the conversation they had had with each other, not a year before.

"You have to do this.  It will just make it easier to keep up with the news about things."

He'd just finished making love to her, and he turned toward her.  "Geez, we just fucked, can we have a minute or two to enjoy it?"

"Yeah, but after that two minutes, you'll do it?"

"What, hack The Sun?  Yeah, all right, whatever, I will."

"Good," she had said, running her fingernails down his chest, lightly, and looking for a physical reaction.

"You know what THAT does," he reminded her.

"Yeah, I do, I know what a lot of things to do you."

She slid down his body, and wrapped her mouth around him.  Surprised at first, he jerked a little and then moved his hands to her hair.  Within minutes, he was lost in the workings of her lips and tongue.

When he came, she swallowed, and rested her head on his thigh.  "Good?"

"So good."

"Now about that other thing . . ."

"I already said I'd do it.  No need to barter."

"I wasn't bartering, I was showing appreciation.  For what you're going to do."

"All right, I'm glad you appreciate it."

"It's going to be worth it in the end, just trust me."

***

Todd was shattered by his mothers' despair.  He went to the floor in front of her and crouched down, saying, "Momma, don't cry, please."

She touched his face gently, "I can't explain it, except to say that I can't accept what he's done.  I . . . only remembered him one way, and that's . . . probably not real anymore."

He was overcome.  He wanted to say so much to her, but instead, words would not come.  Blair said, "Todd knows."

"I hate everything I thought he was.  I want to take the paintings of him, and do what should be done with them.  I want to burn them," she said.  "He's not the man I loved . . . he's just not.  He . . . I'm sorry . . ."

Todd's face broke, and he rested his forehead on his arm.  Blair said, "Momma, I'll help you gather them up.  Come on, let's go get them."  She stood up, and the older woman did as well.  But Bitsy's hand never left Todd, whether on his arm, shoulder or head, until she finally couldn't reach him any more.  And then, Blair and Bitsy were out in the hall, and walking toward the pink room.

He slumped to sitting on the floor, his head in his hand.  From behind him, he heard a familiar soft sound.  "Daddy?"  Ray said, coming behind him.

"Yeah, Ray," he said, brushing a tear from under his eye.  "Hey."

"Daddy, look out!" Ray warned, as he ran and jumped onto his father's back and hugged him around the neck.

Todd said, "You got me, Bud, you really did."

"Daddy, are you sad?"

"No, I'm not sad.  How can I be sad with you choking me around the neck?"

"Don't be sad, Daddy.  It's Sunday.  It's panacakes."  Ray continued to hug him, until he grabbed the boy's small waist and turned him until he faced him.  Their foreheads touched, and Ray started to laugh.  "You could chase me.  Or you could make pan-a-cakes.  With chocwate chips."

"Come here," Todd said, bringing the boy over one shoulder and holding him close.  "Let's go to the kitchen, huh?"

"Yeah, kitchen, so you can cook for me."

A small laugh came from Todd's throat.  "Cook for you?  You sound like your mother."

"I like Mom."

"Oh, Buddy, I like her, too," he sighed.

"I love her."

"Me, too."

"And you, Daddy."

"And you, too, Ray."

"Are you gonna dwop me?"

Todd started the stairs, "Drop you?  Have I ever dropped you before?"

"Yeah.  On the couch."

"Oh," Todd pretended, "no way, I'd NEVER do that."

They got to the bottom of the stairs.  "Will you cawwy me, Daddy, to the couch and then you can dwop me?  Will you Daddy?  I will laugh."

He did just what his son asked.

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