"Good morning, Mommy," Todd said, bringing the tray into the bedroom, and she gently came to waking and sat up.
"What's all this?"
"Me, taking care of you, for a change."
"Thank you. I appreciate it, so much." She looked at the tray, relishing the idea of some breakfast.
"I got you some really good stuff."
"Sounds great." She took a bite of fruit, and then said, "So, when are you going to tell me about what happened last night?"
"Uh, what do you mean?"
"You weren't in bed for a while. What kind of snack would take all that long?"
"It was a big snack."
"You didn't want to upset me. You had a dream. Again."
"Let's not talk about that right now. How are you feeling?"
"I'm great. Todd, you don't have to hide from me."
"I know, I just . . . with everything from yesterday, I couldn't tell you anything that would stress you."
"I'm okay. Really. Now what happened."
He sat on the edge of the bed. "Same dream, same stuff. Momma woke up, she came and talked with me."
"I'm glad she was there for you."
"She was. I think we needed it. We talked about Peter. She told me to let go."
"And?"
"I guess I should. But it's like he's the one holding on. I wish him gone, he shows back up. It's always about the same thing, he wants to burn me, and take everything I've loved."
Blair had been keeping her thoughts to herself, and though she had hinted to Todd before that she felt strange about the time frame that the burn occurred, she didn't push it. She said, "Then I guess you should."
"Can I ask you something, Blair?"
"Sure, why not?" she said, digging into her meal.
"Could . . .if this burn is from that time period. . ."
"Uhuh,"
"If someone did burn me, I mean, who would it be?"
She didn't want to answer, at first. She wanted him to leave it behind, and just move on with their lives. But she knew, somewhere inside her, that the burn was suspect. It was obvious that it had been from that time. She remembered seeing it. The scene flashed through her mind:
"Shorty? What are you doing up? 'Cause we took you out of that warm crib at Aunt Viki's huh? It's warm up here, you just, try and sit still for a minute, okay?"
It was then she had appeared at the door. He turned to her, and said, "What are you looking at?"
"You're a wonderful father. You are." She'd said.
He was so bitter; so far from her. "Never thought I'd hear anyone say that to me?"
"Why not?"
"Well, look at my role models. I mean, everybody knows Victor Lord's sterling reputation. I don't know whether I was better off being abandoned by him or I was just lucky not to be raised by him. And then there's warm, loveable Peter Manning, whose favorite hobby was to kick the crap out of me."
She'd sat by him. "What a pair of fathers. Makes me kind of happy I never knew mine. But that's not gonna be the case for you, is it Starr? No." She'd said, changing her voice to suit her baby daughter. "Todd, I'm . . . no wonder it's so hard for you to trust anyone. Even me." Back to Starr, she'd said, "I'm gonna go get your favorite blanket, okay? Be right back."
She quickly had grabbed the blanket off the crib and went back, listening to him outside the bedroom door.
"So many things to learn about you. Your favorite blanket, your favorite food. How to shut you up when you cry. I mean, do you like to be rocked, or do you like the bounce? I feel like I've gotta learn it all so quickly, you know, because you're gonna change. And you are, you know. I'll be there for you. It won't be like it was with me. I would lie down in front of a train for you. And no matter what, no matter what you decide to do, you could be a bank robber or an accountant, and it wouldn't matter."
She moved closer to the doorway, and watched him. He was holding Starr on her feet, as if she were standing. He'd said, "I would never make you feel stupid or worthless or bad. And I will never betray you, in any way. I swear. And then maybe you won't be so afraid. Maybe you'll even like people. Wouldn't that be nice, huh Squirt?"
She'd looked at him then, her heart splintering at his words, and at the same time, his brown shirt was rolled up at each sleeve, and she was positive could see the scar from the burn, on his inner forearm. . .
"Blair? You all right, Babe?"
"Yes, I was, just remembering something. When Starr was little, when you first met her. Around that time."
"We've come a long way from then."
"I know we have. But it was right after you came back, from Ireland. You were so bitter and hurt."
"I was an asshole."
"Todd!"
"Well, I basically was. But go ahead, what are you thinking?"
"Maybe you should consider the fact that I am pretty positive I saw that burn when you and I were at the penthouse, and you were talking to Starr about how you wanted her life to go. Remember?"
He thought a moment. "About the train?"
"Yes. That one. Your sleeve was rolled up, and I saw it, right there," she pointed to the one he had now, that was mixed in with a host of others.
"Okay. So it was there."
"It was." She finished off her breakfast.
"What are you saying, Blair?"
"I'm saying that . . . maybe you should investigate a little. Maybe you could check into it? Like, was it a wound from the shooting and the car being thrown into the ocean?"
"How would I do that?"
"I don't know, exactly. Or something, maybe you could find someone who knew your mother and father, when you were younger, and find out more about what happened after his death."
Todd's face was filled with recognition. "Why are you saying this, Babe? Are you saying you think Peter did this? He was dead. I watched him die."
"When has that stopped anyone in your life story?"
He stopped and thought about what she said, and answered, "I'm not going there. It was imagined, that's it. No use in trying to resurrect the dead."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, so I was dead once, too. But, this is different." He said.
She folded her arms, and gave him the "really" look.
"Okay, so a bunch of people were dead and aren't. Victor was, and came back and then there was Me. Asa."
"You, more than once."
"Yeah, true. He's not alive, Blair. If he's alive, it means he could hurt you, or the kids."
"No, he can't hurt us. We can take him. He's an old man now, don't forget."
He kissed her nose, "I can't. It's just . . . I can't let myself even think it. I know it's all in my head."
"Then maybe someone out there knows who that was in your room at the clinic."
"You're stuck on this."
"Kind of. Simply because I know you are."
"You believe me."
"Yeah."
"It was so real," he said, staring off. "I remember it so clearly, he grabbed my arm."
"I know. Maybe it was a replacement, or maybe a trick. Maybe the Men of 21 started early. Carlo? Mitch? He knew you, he was involved with Bitsy."
"Maybe," he didn't sound convinced.
"Why does it have to be that you're crazy? That you imagined it? Why couldn't it have happened to you?"
Her faith in him was surprising, and something in him warmed as he realized just how much she believed in him. Here she was, hoping it happened so that she wouldn't have to accept he was insane, and here he was, wishing he imagined it, so that he did not have to face the next assumption: if it happened, did that mean the someone who did it was alive somewhere?
***
Aiden was wheeled out of surgery on a gurney, with a pale green sheet covering him. The second of his exploratory surgeries was complete.
Tina was waiting, in his room, and Timothy, as well. Both had been there several hours, and were seated in the uncomfortable faux leather chairs often found in institutions. She looked up from her knitting, and said, "He's back, they must have finished."
Timothy stood, as did Tina. His limbs felt stiff and sore from the lengthy sitting. He said, "He's alive, one good point, eh, Martina?"
"Yes, one good point."
Wheeled into the room, his gurney was brought against the bed, and locked. Two orderlies lifted him on the count of three, and placed him effortlessly on his bed. He didn't stir. Tina went to the bedside, and Timothy close to her. He reached over and touched his son's hand. "Eric?"
There was no response, as a nurse came in. "He'll be sleeping for several hours. He won't come out of this fully until then. You may as well go home." She primped his pillows and fixed the sheets, and then connected all of the equipment to monitor him. "It's already three in the afternoon. You must have been here since this morning, say, over six hours?"
"We have," Timothy answered her. His beard was slightly thickening with white stubble.
Tina said, "When will he wake up?"
"As I said, could be several hours now. Perhaps you should come back later, and check on him. You know we have no visitor hour restrictions here."
Tina looked to Timothy, who said, "Is he all right, Nurse?"
"He's perfectly fine. Came through it well."
"Thank ya," he said, and leaned over to look into his son's face. Tina rested a hand on Timothy's back as he did so.
"He's so peaceful," she said, softly.
"He's going to get well, Dear Lady."
"Shall we go home, and come back? Or should we wait here?"
"I don't know. I want to be here when he wakes, as ya do as well."
"Let's just go to the cafeteria and get something to snack on, then," she said, realizing neither of them had eaten since breakfast.
"Good idea." They walked arm in arm through the hallway, but not until both had kissed his unbandaged cheek.
As they entered the cafe, both took trays and got snacks and drinks, and brought them to a table by the window. He said, "Zurich is somehow dull."
"I thought the same about Dublin. No offense."
"Cities seem so gray."
"Yes."
"Ya have to eat to keep up y'ar strength, Dear One."
"I am, or at least I am trying."
"Why don't ya tell me some of those stories from y'ar adventurous past?"
"I'm . . . not in the mood, honestly." Tina said.
"Isn't that Calvin, Malcolm and Miguel coming this way?" He looked closer. Aiden's friends. "Yes, I believe it's them."
"They have the same idea we do."
"I see that," he said, as the men took a table not far from the two of them.
"Should we call Todd?" she asked Timothy.
"Perhaps we will later, when he wakes. He'll want to know how Eric's fairing, and we won't be able to say much to him now."
"That's true. And you know how my brother is about these things. He'll use that Manning intuition and try and read through it all anyway."
"He's quite the investigator, I'll say. Some adventures he's had, and likely will. Though some were not pleasant."
"I don't want to think about it," she said. "At least Blair's okay this time. He worries so much about her, since they lost their daughter."
"Yes, but another on the way."
"Thank goodness, yes." She finished her snack and started sipping her tea. "Those kids adore Todd."
"Amazing, considering the likes of the father who raised him."
"I know. But they love him so much."
"He's a fortunate man in that area, he is."
"Kind of nice, two natural girls, two natural boys, and Sam."
"He loves them all so dearly, he'd give his life for any of them."
"He would. I know that for a fact," Tina said, and she jolted a moment, as she was bumped by Calvin, getting out of his seat to go back for seconds.
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Thursday, August 14, 2014
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Failings of the Fathers: 12
He woke up, and immediately caught himself, trying to breathe slowly and barely move. He didn't want to wake her, and didn't want her to know that he was still having the nightmares. She'd been through enough, and with the recent developments with the baby . . .
He stared at the ceiling but couldn't shake it. Peter was by the bed. By THIS bed. Looking at us. He said it again. He wants everything I ever loved. Everything.
He closed his eyes, and said in his mind, "He's not going to hurt anyone. He's dead, and that's that. Let's go. Get it together."
Still, after a few minutes passed, he couldn't get the image of Peter at the foot of the bed from his mind. He slowly got out of the bed, and felt her move. She touched his back, and groggily said, "Todd?"
He said, "I didn't eat enough. Going to get some food."
She turned over to her other side, and became quiet again. He touched her hair gently, and got up to make his way downstairs.
He was tired. Nightmares interfered with his rest, and he was feeling it. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, when he was going for days and days without rest, but it was starting to catch up. He sat, outside the bedroom door, and attempted to get his bearings. His knees up, he lowered his head and concentrated on clearing his mind. I have a wife, her name is Blair. I have a family, I have a home. He repeated his mantra, and variations of it, over and over to try and clean the images and, hopefully, go back to sleep.
His concentration was broken by soft footsteps next to him, and he looked up. It was Bitsy. She was in a long, floral flannel nightie with a high ruffle collar and little pink socks. He lifted his face until his eyes caught hers, and she tilted her head, as if questioning. She crouched beside him, and put her hand on his head. He whispered, "Momma."
She nodded. She touched his mouth, and then motioned as if she wanted him to tell her. Somehow he knew what she was asking. "Peter. He's . . . in my dreams. I can't make it stop."
She opened her mouth, as if she wanted to speak. And try as she might, she could not form words. Instead, she nodded, as if prodding him on. He said, "I can't wake Blair. The baby."
She nodded again, in understanding. At this point, she was sitting next to him, on the floor, looking into his face. He whispered, "He wants to take everything from me."
She shook her head, violently, "no." She got up, in the dark and left him, scurrying in her stocking feet, and came back with a pad. She wrote:
No. He can't. He's not alive. He's dead. No one can take everything from you, except you.
He read it, and looked to the ceiling, eyes moist with tears. "He won't go."
You must let him go. You tell him to go.
"I tried. He won't. He comes back. This has been all my life, Momma. I hid it from everyone, from you, from Blair, from Tea, from myself. All my life."
He's dead, Todd.
"He's only as dead as he is in my head."
You can stop that. Dr. Ray. And Blair, she loves you.
"I can't stop the dreams about him. Since I went back to the clinic, in Switzerland."
I don't really understand, but tell me, My Angel. I'm here.
"I was there, in the 90s. Some men tried to kill me, shot me in the back, threw me over a cliff in the trunk of a car. I was shattered, physically, and emotionally. Blair was pregnant with Starr. She thought . . . she thought I died. After a while, I was sent to a Swiss clinic. While I was there, I . . . thought I saw Peter."
When was this?
"Like 1996." He looked at her puzzled expression, and he said, "No, he was dead. I know, it couldn't have been him. But . . ."
But, you saw him?
"I did. He was by my bed. He took out . . . he flashed his lighter."
Oh, the lighter. He loved that thing, and what it could do. I know. I remember. In your dream, he burned you?
"He grabbed my arm. It was so real. He burned my arm, and I have a scar where it was."
Bitsy didn't say anything, she just looked at where he pointed, and then she swallowed. She thought, and then wrote: How did Peter die?
"Heart attack. I was in the room when he died. He died with me there."
She pursed her lips. I'm sorry you saw that. But he was dead, if you saw him die. He couldn't have burned you. Could you be confused?
"Yeah. Hell, yeah. The men who kidnapped me . . ." he stopped, looking at her face. He seemed to be searching for something.
Don't be afraid to tell me, Todd. It's all right. Go ahead, the truth. It's the best thing.
"The men who kidnapped me used it against me. They burned me, too, and cut me, did other things. Even Blair was confused by it. She thought she remembered the burn, but she's not sure either. Anyone could have done it, it could have happened anywhere. In the car crash off the cliff, for God's sake."
She didn't respond, she just brushed his hair with her hand. He continued, "I don't know, Momma. He just won't let go."
Todd, it's you who won't let go. I know what he did. I lived it with you. Sometimes, it invades my heart, and my mind. It's horrible, all of it. I know, and I'm sorry.
He wasn't quite sure what happened, but he suddenly was overwhelmed by her words, and hung his head. When she heard the rasps of his own weeping, she pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him the best she could. He grabbed the edge of her sleeve and gripped it. "Momma," he said, "I should have stopped him."
No. No. She scribbled on her pad, while he still leaned against her shoulder. You were a little baby, and then a little boy. You couldn't save us. You have to let go of that, too.
He closed his eyes and felt his mother's arms around him. For a moment, he felt like a foolish man, being coddled like a child. But the next moment, he could do nothing but accept her comfort and resign himself to trying to move on.
"Momma," he said, softly, and she made the only sound she could.
"Shhh," and lightly kissed the top of his head.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
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He stared at the ceiling but couldn't shake it. Peter was by the bed. By THIS bed. Looking at us. He said it again. He wants everything I ever loved. Everything.
He closed his eyes, and said in his mind, "He's not going to hurt anyone. He's dead, and that's that. Let's go. Get it together."
Still, after a few minutes passed, he couldn't get the image of Peter at the foot of the bed from his mind. He slowly got out of the bed, and felt her move. She touched his back, and groggily said, "Todd?"
He said, "I didn't eat enough. Going to get some food."
She turned over to her other side, and became quiet again. He touched her hair gently, and got up to make his way downstairs.
He was tired. Nightmares interfered with his rest, and he was feeling it. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, when he was going for days and days without rest, but it was starting to catch up. He sat, outside the bedroom door, and attempted to get his bearings. His knees up, he lowered his head and concentrated on clearing his mind. I have a wife, her name is Blair. I have a family, I have a home. He repeated his mantra, and variations of it, over and over to try and clean the images and, hopefully, go back to sleep.
His concentration was broken by soft footsteps next to him, and he looked up. It was Bitsy. She was in a long, floral flannel nightie with a high ruffle collar and little pink socks. He lifted his face until his eyes caught hers, and she tilted her head, as if questioning. She crouched beside him, and put her hand on his head. He whispered, "Momma."
She nodded. She touched his mouth, and then motioned as if she wanted him to tell her. Somehow he knew what she was asking. "Peter. He's . . . in my dreams. I can't make it stop."
She opened her mouth, as if she wanted to speak. And try as she might, she could not form words. Instead, she nodded, as if prodding him on. He said, "I can't wake Blair. The baby."
She nodded again, in understanding. At this point, she was sitting next to him, on the floor, looking into his face. He whispered, "He wants to take everything from me."
She shook her head, violently, "no." She got up, in the dark and left him, scurrying in her stocking feet, and came back with a pad. She wrote:
No. He can't. He's not alive. He's dead. No one can take everything from you, except you.
He read it, and looked to the ceiling, eyes moist with tears. "He won't go."
You must let him go. You tell him to go.
"I tried. He won't. He comes back. This has been all my life, Momma. I hid it from everyone, from you, from Blair, from Tea, from myself. All my life."
He's dead, Todd.
"He's only as dead as he is in my head."
You can stop that. Dr. Ray. And Blair, she loves you.
"I can't stop the dreams about him. Since I went back to the clinic, in Switzerland."
I don't really understand, but tell me, My Angel. I'm here.
"I was there, in the 90s. Some men tried to kill me, shot me in the back, threw me over a cliff in the trunk of a car. I was shattered, physically, and emotionally. Blair was pregnant with Starr. She thought . . . she thought I died. After a while, I was sent to a Swiss clinic. While I was there, I . . . thought I saw Peter."
When was this?
"Like 1996." He looked at her puzzled expression, and he said, "No, he was dead. I know, it couldn't have been him. But . . ."
But, you saw him?
"I did. He was by my bed. He took out . . . he flashed his lighter."
Oh, the lighter. He loved that thing, and what it could do. I know. I remember. In your dream, he burned you?
"He grabbed my arm. It was so real. He burned my arm, and I have a scar where it was."
Bitsy didn't say anything, she just looked at where he pointed, and then she swallowed. She thought, and then wrote: How did Peter die?
"Heart attack. I was in the room when he died. He died with me there."
She pursed her lips. I'm sorry you saw that. But he was dead, if you saw him die. He couldn't have burned you. Could you be confused?
"Yeah. Hell, yeah. The men who kidnapped me . . ." he stopped, looking at her face. He seemed to be searching for something.
Don't be afraid to tell me, Todd. It's all right. Go ahead, the truth. It's the best thing.
"The men who kidnapped me used it against me. They burned me, too, and cut me, did other things. Even Blair was confused by it. She thought she remembered the burn, but she's not sure either. Anyone could have done it, it could have happened anywhere. In the car crash off the cliff, for God's sake."
She didn't respond, she just brushed his hair with her hand. He continued, "I don't know, Momma. He just won't let go."
Todd, it's you who won't let go. I know what he did. I lived it with you. Sometimes, it invades my heart, and my mind. It's horrible, all of it. I know, and I'm sorry.
He wasn't quite sure what happened, but he suddenly was overwhelmed by her words, and hung his head. When she heard the rasps of his own weeping, she pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him the best she could. He grabbed the edge of her sleeve and gripped it. "Momma," he said, "I should have stopped him."
No. No. She scribbled on her pad, while he still leaned against her shoulder. You were a little baby, and then a little boy. You couldn't save us. You have to let go of that, too.
He closed his eyes and felt his mother's arms around him. For a moment, he felt like a foolish man, being coddled like a child. But the next moment, he could do nothing but accept her comfort and resign himself to trying to move on.
"Momma," he said, softly, and she made the only sound she could.
"Shhh," and lightly kissed the top of his head.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
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Thursday, August 7, 2014
Failings of the Fathers: 11
The next morning, Todd and Blair fed the kids and prepared them for school. Jack was particularly tired and not enthusiastic. In contrast to that, Sam was excitedly chattering at the table about his spelling bee that day. Finally, Jack said, "Squirt, can you quit?"
"I'm just happy, because I am going to win the spelling bee. Yay, yay, going to win the spelling bee," he sang.
Jack buried his face in his hand and said, "I give up."
"What's up, Buddy? Tired?" Todd said.
"Yep. I was up until two studying for a science exam."
"That will do it." He poured Jack a cup of coffee, "Try some of that."
"You guys don't like me drinking coffee."
"Sometimes there's a use for it," he said.
That was when he caught sight of Blair, leaning on the counter, as if catching her breath. "Hey, Babe, what's going on?"
"I . . . don't know. I felt a cramp, I think."
Todd felt alarmed, but he didn't let on. "Oh yeah? Come on, let's sit you down." He took her arms to support her and led her into the family room. The two boys became very quiet.
She said, "I'm okay, I really think so."
He sat beside her. He was aware of the lack of noise in the kitchen, and knew he'd have to assure them as soon as she was all right. He said, "Any more?"
"No, it was just one. It didn't feel like a contraction. It just felt crampy. Not sure how to explain it, but I think I'm fine."
"Let's wait a second and see," he said.
She looked at him. "The boys."
"They're okay."
In the kitchen, Jack was definitely awake now. "Mom's okay, Sam, don't worry," he said, as the look on his brother's face went from elation over the spelling bee to dread.
Sam said, "I don't want Mom to be hurt, or sad. I don't want our baby to die."
"Our baby won't die. She's okay, really." Jack said.
"Go see, Jack, please?"
Jack got up and went to the family room. Peeking around the corner, he said, "Sam's flipping out."
"Bring him in here, Jack. So he can see I'm all right." Blair said.
Jack did what his mother said, and Sam ran to her, stopping short when he got there. "Mom, are you okay?"
"I'm okay, Honey. Just resting."
"Okay. Mom, I don't want anything bad to happen."
"I don't either. It's all right," she said.
Todd took Sam in his arms, and carried him back to the kitchen. "What do you say, Bud? You finished with your breakfast?"
"Yeah, I guess." There was worry stamped across Sam's expression.
"Come on, go and get ready. Get your book bag, and your coat. You guys have to be in the copter in a few minutes." Todd said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother coming down the stairs, with Ray in her arms.
She looked at him quizzically. He said, "It's going to be okay, Momma."
She put her hand out to Sam, and he went to her, quietly. She walked both of the younger boys back to the staircase and upstairs, while Jack tended to his mother, and Todd hastened back to her side. "Better?"
"I'm fine, really. It was just a little quirk." She said.
Todd said, "We're going into town today to get you checked out. That's all, Blair. We're not talking about it."
"Okay," she agreed.
Jack said, "I'd better get going. If you guys need me I'll be upstairs."
For a minute, Todd was nervous being left without the copter, but he felt somewhere in his gut that things would be all right. She hadn't had another cramp, and she was calm and nowhere near panic. He said, "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." She went to try and get up, and he stopped her.
"No, wait a few minutes. Let's just sit."
They did.
Sam was nervous, and asked more than enough questions when they were up on the second level. Bitsy adeptly put Little Ray into his playpen in the nursery, and then took Sam's hand and led him to her room and her desk. She immediately took a pen and paper, and wrote, furiously.
You mustn't be upset. Your mother is all right. The baby will be born and she will live. She'll be tiny, but she'll be perfect.
"How do you know all that, Grandma?"
I just know. I dreamed of it. The baby will be precious and small and beautiful.
"Do you promise?"
She nodded.
"Okay. I want a baby sister. I already have a baby brother, and an older brother, and an older sister, too."
She smiled, handing him the smaller sketch pad. He said, "You want me to work on my elephant?"
She nodded again and patted his head.
He sat at her desk, and opened the sketch pad. There were a few pages where he started drawing his elephant and "messed up," in his words. This time, he was slower, more methodical. He wanted to get it right. Bitsy had perfectly planned a way to distract him from Todd and Blair. But, she was not worried. It was all over her face. She believed what she was saying, and therefore, Sam did as well. She covered his hand with hers and showed him how to shadow and use shorter strokes to create the curves. He completed the head, and said, "I did it!"
She nodded and smiled, admiring the work. Then she put the pad back down and instructed him, with hand motions, to go back to his drawing until Jack called him for the copter ride to school.
***
Aiden's eyes fluttered open, and Tina was there, waiting for it. He looked at her, without turning his head much. He said, "Something hurts."
She grimaced slightly, and took her hand to his shoulder, smoothing it. "I'm sorry. Do you need the nurse?"
"No. Just telling ya that it hurts."
"It was exploratory surgery, remember?"
He remained quiet a moment. "I suppose."
"What can I do for you?"
"Hold me hand. That's all there is."
She took his hand and held it, lightly squeezing so he would feel the pressure. He closed his eyes again, and she bit her lip. Damn it. Why does he have to suffer? Those Men of 21, whoever they are, deserve worse than what was given to them. No wonder the RA21 see Todd as a hero.
A slight knock at the door signaled her to look up, and she brushed her tears from her under-eyes. She said, "May I help you?"
"We're his friends, Dear Lady," a handsome man a little older than Todd said. His accent was distinctly British.
"We've come to just see how he's doing," a taller, older man said. He seemed vaguely familiar, as if he had the face you see everywhere.
"Is he all right?" the dark-haired man asked.
"He's sleeping." She smiled weakly. They all stood by the door, waiting. She said, "Well, come in."
The three men, in typical patient garb, walked closer. Aiden didn't stir. All three of them looked him over, and then the oldest said, "He's fine. Let's go."
"Your lack of sensitivity is showing," the British one said.
"Nothing to see here. He's asleep. We can come back later." He was gruff.
"That's true, kind of," Tina agreed. "He's going to sleep a while, they said."
"Well, we're glad to have seen him," the man with the dark hair said.
Tina spoke to the eldest. "You're American. I can tell by your accent."
"So, what of it?" he almost snapped.
Tina almost snapped back, but the British man spoke up, "Don't mind Calvin, he's not that friendly."
The young Spanish guy said, "Got a permanent chip on his shoulder."
"I'm Malcolm," the Englishman said, "and this is Miguel. That callous old coot over there is Calvin."
"Pleased," she said. "I'm glad Aiden has made friends here."
"He's a very friendly guy," Miguel said.
"He is. He's kind, and he's funny," she agreed, "and I can tell you're from the U.S. as well." Miguel nodded and brushed it off as something he was not going to discuss.
"He tells great stories," Malcolm added. Calvin was already by the door. "Well, we best be going. Tell him that we were here, will you?"
"Certainly."
They left. Tina realized that Aiden's whole life had been ingratiating himself to strangers. He had learned, over time, to befriend people and bring them in, no matter how short he had known them. She reminded herself of this as she shook off the visit from the three men. It struck her as slightly strange that they were that concerned, but again, she'd never lived the way Aiden had. And, she knew how easily he made connections with people. It had been a matter of survival for him in Rialto.
She looked back to his face, which was peaceful in sleep. She folded her hands and heard the voice of Sister Rebecca Katherine in her head. Our father . . .
Am I praying?
It must have been the one thing she took with her from her days as Sister Martina Agnes. She didn't stop, she just continued to close her eyes and recite in her mind the words she'd heard daily from Sister Rebecca Katherine, kneeling next to her in the chapel at St. Anne's.
***
Williams pulled up in front of the medical center where Blair's OBGYN was stationed, and parked. Todd made ready to help her out of the limo, but she hesitated. He said, "Come on, Babe, get out."
She just sat.
"Hey, you in there?" he repeated.
"I can't, Todd."
"Why not, what's wrong?" She saw alarm in his face.
"I'm scared. I'm afraid to go in."
"Why," he said, tenderly, and sat back inside the car with her.
"I . . . I don't know," she said, looking to her hands. They were shaking, and he covered them with his.
This brought her eyes to his face. He said, "Nothing to be afraid of. They'll help if you need it."
"I'm scared that . . . that they're going to say . . ."
"They're not going to say anything like that."
She looked into his eyes. "How do you know?"
"I just know."
"She's not moving. I haven't felt her move in a few hours."
"Do they move all the time? I don't remember Ray moving every minute."
"No, but she moves a lot."
"Well, she has to sleep, too. Maybe she's napping."
She cracked a smile, even though it was weak. "I guess so. The doctor did say that unborn babies sleep like real ones. They sleep a lot."
"Right. And you never noticed before because you were too busy worrying over me."
"Maybe." She sighed.
"You ready?"
"I guess," she said, and turned toward the door, leaning on him for help.
In the waiting room, he held her hand, and could feel it still jittering in his. He said, "It's going to be okay," because he didn't know what else to say to her. Jewel, come on, just kick your mother. Just once, for God's sake.
In the examination room, Blair got herself up on the table with the help of the nurse and Todd, and got ready for her exam. A sonogram was planned, and the doctor assured her, reminding her that stress could be bad for the baby as well. "Just lie back, we're going to take a picture. The heartbeat is fine, and strong."
She sighed again, and Todd saw tears run out of her eyes. He grasped her hand, and waited. There on the screen was Jewel, and she appeared to have her thumb in her mouth. Blair said, "Oh, my God, she's so tiny and beautiful, isn't she, Todd?"
"Yep," he said, clearly moved.
"She's sucking her thumb," she added.
"She is." He sighed. "Look at her."
The technician said, "She's fine, just resting. I'll have to doctor come in and discuss it more with you."
A few minutes later, the doctor made her way in. "Blair, I've warned you about stress."
"I know. I've been pretty good."
"Has she, Todd?" the doctor asked.
"Not really. I mean, I think sometimes, well, I can sometimes cause her stress. My . . . situation. Still recovering from some things that I have to work through."
"I heard about it, and Blair's mentioned some of it. In fact, we had a lot of talks about this very thing when she was pregnant with your son. She wants to be part of your life, but I've told her to remember to keep it as light as she can, especially now."
"What do you mean, especially now?" Blair asked, worried.
"The baby is small for her gestation. She's not under distress, but sometimes, babies become rather still if labor is coming."
"Labor?" Both Todd and Blair said.
"Yes. She's old enough to survive outside you, Blair, but she's very small. So we want her to keep residence as long as we can. We can help that by staying calm and relaxed, as much as you can, and not exerting yourself. I'd suggest bed rest at this point. Other signs are pointing me in this direction, especially the fact that both Jack and Starr were early babies."
"Is she all right?"
"She's fine. Strong heartbeat, and seems to be pretty happy in there, sleeping."
"Oh!" Blair called out.
"What?" Todd asked.
"She just kicked me, right here," she pointed. He put his hand over the place she showed him.
"There she goes. We woke her," he petted her hair.
"I guess we did," she smiled. "All right, bed rest. I want her to be bigger, it makes coming into the world easier."
"All right, I'll give you some reading material on the kinds of things you should avoid. Bed rest, and just take care of yourself, and Todd, take care of her." The doctor handed Blair some papers.
"I will," he said, sitting back, as if relieved.
She looked at him as the doctor left the room. "She's all right."
"She's a Manning, what did you expect?"
"I guess nothing else."
"Exactly." He helped her get dressed. "I'm getting a wheelchair."
"No, Todd, that's ridiculous . . ."
He interrupted, "Nope, you're listening to me. Bed rest and care. And this means no baths." He said, leaving the room for a moment.
"All right, no baths." she called after him. After a few minutes, he was back with the chair.
"I have to stay calm, it says here," she said, looking over the materials the doctor had left. "And...ut oh."
"What oh?" he responded.
"No sex."
"Eh, so? Whatever works for Jewel works for me."
"Stay hydrated. That means tons of water."
"That's easy enough. I'll have a water cooler brought into the bedroom."
"You spoil me," she said, as he helped her into the chair.
"That's my job," he said, kissing her forehead.
"Okay, wheel me out, driver!" She teased.
He did, and once on the sidewalk, he put the brakes on her chair, and started to help her out of it. She said, "Geesh, Jewel's back with a vengeance."
"Well, again, she's got that Manning thing going on."
"I know," she said, and finally plopped into the limousine seat.
He slid in next to her, after running the chair back into the waiting room. "So, we're on our way home. What shall we do tonight?"
"Watch movies."
"Sure. What movies?"
"You choose."
"Then I want Evil Dead II."
"Again?"
"I can't help it that Bobbie Joe looks like my wife."
"Well, she does, but not all that much."
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
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"I'm just happy, because I am going to win the spelling bee. Yay, yay, going to win the spelling bee," he sang.
Jack buried his face in his hand and said, "I give up."
"What's up, Buddy? Tired?" Todd said.
"Yep. I was up until two studying for a science exam."
"That will do it." He poured Jack a cup of coffee, "Try some of that."
"You guys don't like me drinking coffee."
"Sometimes there's a use for it," he said.
That was when he caught sight of Blair, leaning on the counter, as if catching her breath. "Hey, Babe, what's going on?"
"I . . . don't know. I felt a cramp, I think."
Todd felt alarmed, but he didn't let on. "Oh yeah? Come on, let's sit you down." He took her arms to support her and led her into the family room. The two boys became very quiet.
She said, "I'm okay, I really think so."
He sat beside her. He was aware of the lack of noise in the kitchen, and knew he'd have to assure them as soon as she was all right. He said, "Any more?"
"No, it was just one. It didn't feel like a contraction. It just felt crampy. Not sure how to explain it, but I think I'm fine."
"Let's wait a second and see," he said.
She looked at him. "The boys."
"They're okay."
In the kitchen, Jack was definitely awake now. "Mom's okay, Sam, don't worry," he said, as the look on his brother's face went from elation over the spelling bee to dread.
Sam said, "I don't want Mom to be hurt, or sad. I don't want our baby to die."
"Our baby won't die. She's okay, really." Jack said.
"Go see, Jack, please?"
Jack got up and went to the family room. Peeking around the corner, he said, "Sam's flipping out."
"Bring him in here, Jack. So he can see I'm all right." Blair said.
Jack did what his mother said, and Sam ran to her, stopping short when he got there. "Mom, are you okay?"
"I'm okay, Honey. Just resting."
"Okay. Mom, I don't want anything bad to happen."
"I don't either. It's all right," she said.
Todd took Sam in his arms, and carried him back to the kitchen. "What do you say, Bud? You finished with your breakfast?"
"Yeah, I guess." There was worry stamped across Sam's expression.
"Come on, go and get ready. Get your book bag, and your coat. You guys have to be in the copter in a few minutes." Todd said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother coming down the stairs, with Ray in her arms.
She looked at him quizzically. He said, "It's going to be okay, Momma."
She put her hand out to Sam, and he went to her, quietly. She walked both of the younger boys back to the staircase and upstairs, while Jack tended to his mother, and Todd hastened back to her side. "Better?"
"I'm fine, really. It was just a little quirk." She said.
Todd said, "We're going into town today to get you checked out. That's all, Blair. We're not talking about it."
"Okay," she agreed.
Jack said, "I'd better get going. If you guys need me I'll be upstairs."
For a minute, Todd was nervous being left without the copter, but he felt somewhere in his gut that things would be all right. She hadn't had another cramp, and she was calm and nowhere near panic. He said, "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." She went to try and get up, and he stopped her.
"No, wait a few minutes. Let's just sit."
They did.
Sam was nervous, and asked more than enough questions when they were up on the second level. Bitsy adeptly put Little Ray into his playpen in the nursery, and then took Sam's hand and led him to her room and her desk. She immediately took a pen and paper, and wrote, furiously.
You mustn't be upset. Your mother is all right. The baby will be born and she will live. She'll be tiny, but she'll be perfect.
"How do you know all that, Grandma?"
I just know. I dreamed of it. The baby will be precious and small and beautiful.
"Do you promise?"
She nodded.
"Okay. I want a baby sister. I already have a baby brother, and an older brother, and an older sister, too."
She smiled, handing him the smaller sketch pad. He said, "You want me to work on my elephant?"
She nodded again and patted his head.
He sat at her desk, and opened the sketch pad. There were a few pages where he started drawing his elephant and "messed up," in his words. This time, he was slower, more methodical. He wanted to get it right. Bitsy had perfectly planned a way to distract him from Todd and Blair. But, she was not worried. It was all over her face. She believed what she was saying, and therefore, Sam did as well. She covered his hand with hers and showed him how to shadow and use shorter strokes to create the curves. He completed the head, and said, "I did it!"
She nodded and smiled, admiring the work. Then she put the pad back down and instructed him, with hand motions, to go back to his drawing until Jack called him for the copter ride to school.
***
Aiden's eyes fluttered open, and Tina was there, waiting for it. He looked at her, without turning his head much. He said, "Something hurts."
She grimaced slightly, and took her hand to his shoulder, smoothing it. "I'm sorry. Do you need the nurse?"
"No. Just telling ya that it hurts."
"It was exploratory surgery, remember?"
He remained quiet a moment. "I suppose."
"What can I do for you?"
"Hold me hand. That's all there is."
She took his hand and held it, lightly squeezing so he would feel the pressure. He closed his eyes again, and she bit her lip. Damn it. Why does he have to suffer? Those Men of 21, whoever they are, deserve worse than what was given to them. No wonder the RA21 see Todd as a hero.
A slight knock at the door signaled her to look up, and she brushed her tears from her under-eyes. She said, "May I help you?"
"We're his friends, Dear Lady," a handsome man a little older than Todd said. His accent was distinctly British.
"We've come to just see how he's doing," a taller, older man said. He seemed vaguely familiar, as if he had the face you see everywhere.
"Is he all right?" the dark-haired man asked.
"He's sleeping." She smiled weakly. They all stood by the door, waiting. She said, "Well, come in."
The three men, in typical patient garb, walked closer. Aiden didn't stir. All three of them looked him over, and then the oldest said, "He's fine. Let's go."
"Your lack of sensitivity is showing," the British one said.
"Nothing to see here. He's asleep. We can come back later." He was gruff.
"That's true, kind of," Tina agreed. "He's going to sleep a while, they said."
"Well, we're glad to have seen him," the man with the dark hair said.
Tina spoke to the eldest. "You're American. I can tell by your accent."
"So, what of it?" he almost snapped.
Tina almost snapped back, but the British man spoke up, "Don't mind Calvin, he's not that friendly."
The young Spanish guy said, "Got a permanent chip on his shoulder."
"I'm Malcolm," the Englishman said, "and this is Miguel. That callous old coot over there is Calvin."
"Pleased," she said. "I'm glad Aiden has made friends here."
"He's a very friendly guy," Miguel said.
"He is. He's kind, and he's funny," she agreed, "and I can tell you're from the U.S. as well." Miguel nodded and brushed it off as something he was not going to discuss.
"He tells great stories," Malcolm added. Calvin was already by the door. "Well, we best be going. Tell him that we were here, will you?"
"Certainly."
They left. Tina realized that Aiden's whole life had been ingratiating himself to strangers. He had learned, over time, to befriend people and bring them in, no matter how short he had known them. She reminded herself of this as she shook off the visit from the three men. It struck her as slightly strange that they were that concerned, but again, she'd never lived the way Aiden had. And, she knew how easily he made connections with people. It had been a matter of survival for him in Rialto.
She looked back to his face, which was peaceful in sleep. She folded her hands and heard the voice of Sister Rebecca Katherine in her head. Our father . . .
Am I praying?
It must have been the one thing she took with her from her days as Sister Martina Agnes. She didn't stop, she just continued to close her eyes and recite in her mind the words she'd heard daily from Sister Rebecca Katherine, kneeling next to her in the chapel at St. Anne's.
***
Williams pulled up in front of the medical center where Blair's OBGYN was stationed, and parked. Todd made ready to help her out of the limo, but she hesitated. He said, "Come on, Babe, get out."
She just sat.
"Hey, you in there?" he repeated.
"I can't, Todd."
"Why not, what's wrong?" She saw alarm in his face.
"I'm scared. I'm afraid to go in."
"Why," he said, tenderly, and sat back inside the car with her.
"I . . . I don't know," she said, looking to her hands. They were shaking, and he covered them with his.
This brought her eyes to his face. He said, "Nothing to be afraid of. They'll help if you need it."
"I'm scared that . . . that they're going to say . . ."
"They're not going to say anything like that."
She looked into his eyes. "How do you know?"
"I just know."
"She's not moving. I haven't felt her move in a few hours."
"Do they move all the time? I don't remember Ray moving every minute."
"No, but she moves a lot."
"Well, she has to sleep, too. Maybe she's napping."
She cracked a smile, even though it was weak. "I guess so. The doctor did say that unborn babies sleep like real ones. They sleep a lot."
"Right. And you never noticed before because you were too busy worrying over me."
"Maybe." She sighed.
"You ready?"
"I guess," she said, and turned toward the door, leaning on him for help.
In the waiting room, he held her hand, and could feel it still jittering in his. He said, "It's going to be okay," because he didn't know what else to say to her. Jewel, come on, just kick your mother. Just once, for God's sake.
In the examination room, Blair got herself up on the table with the help of the nurse and Todd, and got ready for her exam. A sonogram was planned, and the doctor assured her, reminding her that stress could be bad for the baby as well. "Just lie back, we're going to take a picture. The heartbeat is fine, and strong."
She sighed again, and Todd saw tears run out of her eyes. He grasped her hand, and waited. There on the screen was Jewel, and she appeared to have her thumb in her mouth. Blair said, "Oh, my God, she's so tiny and beautiful, isn't she, Todd?"
"Yep," he said, clearly moved.
"She's sucking her thumb," she added.
"She is." He sighed. "Look at her."
The technician said, "She's fine, just resting. I'll have to doctor come in and discuss it more with you."
A few minutes later, the doctor made her way in. "Blair, I've warned you about stress."
"I know. I've been pretty good."
"Has she, Todd?" the doctor asked.
"Not really. I mean, I think sometimes, well, I can sometimes cause her stress. My . . . situation. Still recovering from some things that I have to work through."
"I heard about it, and Blair's mentioned some of it. In fact, we had a lot of talks about this very thing when she was pregnant with your son. She wants to be part of your life, but I've told her to remember to keep it as light as she can, especially now."
"What do you mean, especially now?" Blair asked, worried.
"The baby is small for her gestation. She's not under distress, but sometimes, babies become rather still if labor is coming."
"Labor?" Both Todd and Blair said.
"Yes. She's old enough to survive outside you, Blair, but she's very small. So we want her to keep residence as long as we can. We can help that by staying calm and relaxed, as much as you can, and not exerting yourself. I'd suggest bed rest at this point. Other signs are pointing me in this direction, especially the fact that both Jack and Starr were early babies."
"Is she all right?"
"She's fine. Strong heartbeat, and seems to be pretty happy in there, sleeping."
"Oh!" Blair called out.
"What?" Todd asked.
"She just kicked me, right here," she pointed. He put his hand over the place she showed him.
"There she goes. We woke her," he petted her hair.
"I guess we did," she smiled. "All right, bed rest. I want her to be bigger, it makes coming into the world easier."
"All right, I'll give you some reading material on the kinds of things you should avoid. Bed rest, and just take care of yourself, and Todd, take care of her." The doctor handed Blair some papers.
"I will," he said, sitting back, as if relieved.
She looked at him as the doctor left the room. "She's all right."
"She's a Manning, what did you expect?"
"I guess nothing else."
"Exactly." He helped her get dressed. "I'm getting a wheelchair."
"No, Todd, that's ridiculous . . ."
He interrupted, "Nope, you're listening to me. Bed rest and care. And this means no baths." He said, leaving the room for a moment.
"All right, no baths." she called after him. After a few minutes, he was back with the chair.
"I have to stay calm, it says here," she said, looking over the materials the doctor had left. "And...ut oh."
"What oh?" he responded.
"No sex."
"Eh, so? Whatever works for Jewel works for me."
"Stay hydrated. That means tons of water."
"That's easy enough. I'll have a water cooler brought into the bedroom."
"You spoil me," she said, as he helped her into the chair.
"That's my job," he said, kissing her forehead.
"Okay, wheel me out, driver!" She teased.
He did, and once on the sidewalk, he put the brakes on her chair, and started to help her out of it. She said, "Geesh, Jewel's back with a vengeance."
"Well, again, she's got that Manning thing going on."
"I know," she said, and finally plopped into the limousine seat.
He slid in next to her, after running the chair back into the waiting room. "So, we're on our way home. What shall we do tonight?"
"Watch movies."
"Sure. What movies?"
"You choose."
"Then I want Evil Dead II."
"Again?"
"I can't help it that Bobbie Joe looks like my wife."
"Well, she does, but not all that much."
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
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Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Todd's Saga 25: The Ugly Truth
Victor’s head whipped around at the scream. Surprised, he saw Viki standing in the doorway. He looked back and saw Clint shaking his head. Damn it! He had lost his chance. All-day long he had been slowly working on Clint and now it was over. He turned his head back to see Todd standing behind Viki. Victor’s lip curled and his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Viki? I should have known. Dear Saint Victoria, ever the faithful sister, I guess you’re here to support Todd.”
Todd stepped past Viki and went to Clint. “Knock it off, Victor. She’s here because she’s worried about us, including you.” He reached Clint and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey old man, I think you should call it a night.” He frowned when Clint looked at him bewildered.
“Manning, is that you?” Clint shook his head again. “Where are we?”
“Easy, Clint. You’re at my place, remember? You’ve had a long day.”
Clint looked around the room for a moment. Victor was lying on the bed smirking at him, and Todd appeared upset. He spotted the food sitting on the table not far from him and suddenly everything popped back into place. “I remember...I...I was getting ready to give Victor some dinner.” He rounded to look down at Victor. “What did you do to me?”
“Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about Clint. One minute we were talking and the next, you just got this blank look on your face. I told you. You’re not well. Manning should never have taken you from the Institute.”
Viki gasped at the outright lie.
Clint turned and saw her still standing where she had come to a stop in the doorway. “Viki? You don’t believe that, do you? I’m fine, I tell you.”
Viki moved into the room and headed for Clint. “Yes, Clint, don’t worry. You’ve just been through a lot lately. Todd’s right you should probably go to bed. Come on. Show me where you’re staying.” She took Clint’s hand and helped him off the bed. His hand was clammy and he was even paler than at dinner. “Todd, if it’s alright with you, I’ll take the room next to Clint.”
Todd nodded. Viki had been right. Clint was too shaky to leave alone with Victor again. ”Go ahead. I’ll take care of Victor.” He watched as they left the room, then moved to stand above his brother. “You Bastard! Right now all I want to do is put my hands round your neck and finish the job the organization asked me to do.”
“You won’t. You had your chance in the compound and you couldn’t do it. Didn’t you say you promised Tea you’d let me live? That’s why I’m here, right?” Victor had seen the compassion Todd had shown Clint. “You really have gotten soft. Mother knew what she was doing when she put me in charge all those years ago. It’s too bad Baker made the mistake and let you escape. I got to know Baker really well these past few weeks. I even watched him work on Clint. The man’s a master at his craft. He’ll find you. I don’t care where we are, Baker will get a line on you and Alison will have her men freeing me in no time.”
Todd’s blood had started to boil when Victor mentioned Irene, but at the sound of Baker’s name, a strange sense of relief filled him. Victor had no idea Baker had worked on him too. That fact, and the fact that Victor believed Baker was faithful to the organization, was proof that Baker had hoodwinked Alison thoroughly. Bravo Baker. I hope you enjoy the hell out of my money. Todd laughed suddenly, “You have me quaking in my boots. Not! Alison and her goons have stopped searching for me. They have no reason to suspect me. They think I’m dead, but you’re the one who should worry. My guess is, they think you helped Buchanan escape. If Baker is out looking for anyone, it’s you. They probably think they failed to get you fully under control and they have no idea what a good little soldier you’ve become. But I know and you won’t get another chance to play on Clint’s mind. To quote you, you had your chance and you lost.”
Todd sat down next to his brother on the bed. He leaned in close to Victor’s head and whispered. “Mind games don’t work with me. I’m not the Organization’s puppet, and I found out today who’s in charge of your little club.”
Victor’s eyes widened as he realized what Todd was telling him. He cracked his head into Todd’s, hoping to knock him out. He had to get loose and warn the organization.
Todd, though partially dazed, reacted quickly and with one hand around Victor’s neck, he slammed his brother’s head back against the headboard. He began to squeeze and cut off Victor’s air but then saw himself losing his last breath at Victor’s hand. Abruptly he let go. “I’ve never in my life killed a man in cold blood and you won’t be the first, Victor. That’s all you, not me.”
Coughing and trying to catch his breath, Victor wheezed out. “The night you shot me was as cold-blooded as it gets.”
“So we’re back to that. Your memories and mine don’t match. I’m wondering if I ever shot you at all.” Todd reached and ripped the front of Victor’s shirt open. He sat back stunned. There was no sign that Victor had ever been shot in the chest, no old wound or scar, nothing. Todd closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. It all began to make sense. I didn’t shoot him. It was all Irene’s doing. She tampered with my mind.
Seeing Todd’s reaction, Victor sneered. “Not a pretty sight is it? You shot me and just left me to bleed to death. I look at it every day, wanting you to suffer the way I suffered for the last year.”
Todd was shocked. “Victor, there’s nothing there. What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“You’re just going to ignore what’s right in front of your eyes. You’re blind as well as crazy. I thought Clint was nuts when he was talking about imaginary needle marks, and now you’re sitting there denying the scar left in my chest by the bullet you fired into me.” Victor hated the scar over his heart. He had even kept it hidden from Tea by telling her he didn’t want to remind her of the night he died. Rage filled him as he looked at Todd. “I should have made sure you were dead before I left your room that night in Llanview. You’re nothing but a rabid dog that needs to be put down.”
Todd got off the bed and put some space between himself and his brother. “God, you have no idea how much I hate you. You and Irene stole my life for eight years and you think the one year you that were torn away from Tea makes up for that. Hell no! The only rabid dog in this room is you. I know you killed a man in Llanview, then you tried to poison me. After that you practically strangled me. For all I know, you also killed the private investigator I hired to try and find you for Tea. You’re the cold-blooded killer here. You’re also a fool.” He walked over to the bowl of stew congealing on the table. “I’m guessing you’re not hungry anymore.”
“Go to Hell!” Victor said vehemently.
Todd picked up the tray. “That’s what I thought.” He walked to the door and turned around just before exiting. “ Victor, I’m only going to say this once. You’re the one who’s blind. There’s no scar on your chest, but, your arm is covered with needle marks just like Clint’s are. They’ve gotten to you. They lied about Tea and Dani, and they led you to believe I shot you. Neither of those things happened. Think about that. By the way, if you ever belittle Viki again, I’ll tear your tongue out and feed it to you.”
Todd walked the tray back downstairs and dumped the food out. Victor wouldn’t starve missing one meal.
****
Viki walked past Victor’s room and paused. The scene from earlier wouldn’t go away. Victor had actually tried to manipulate Clint into letting him free and it hadn’t been just by reasoning with him. He had been working on Clint’s mind. It had been so deliberate. The ugly truth was, that something was terribly wrong with Victor. She shook her head and continued to Todd’s room, she needed to know everything he could tell her. The room was empty so she headed downstairs and heard activity in the kitchen. Opening the door, she saw Todd pull a beer out of the refrigerator. “Oh, how I wish I could have something like that right now. Do you have any Coffee?”
Shaking his head no, Todd looked over at his sister and removed a second bottle, and twisted the cap off.. Grabbing a glass off the shelf he poured it and handed it to her. “Here Sis, live a little, one won’t kill you. Hell, look at Clint. He’s got a new heart and he drinks the hard stuff.”
Viki shook her head. ”No, I can’t.”
“Drink it, Viki. Just a sip. It will do you good. Come on. Niki wouldn’t hesitate.”
Viki smiled a faint smile and took the glass. “Niki would rather have a scotch.”
Todd grinned. “I’ve got some of that too.” He watched her take a sip, grimace at the taste and put the drink on the counter. “Okay, I’ll make some coffee.” He turned towards the counter and began making a pot.
Viki sat down at the table. She looked around and noted that Todd had moved all the dishes to the sink and had turned off the stew. “Did Victor eat anything?”
“No,” Todd said tersely, his hand clenching around the coffee pot for a moment.
She could hear the anger in Todd’s voice. “What happened after I took Clint out of the room?”
Todd put the coffee on, grabbed his beer, and turned back to his sister.“I didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re asking. He’s a fool and the biggest problem is, he’s a brainwashed one.”
“You wouldn’t kill him. I know that. You know he’s been damaged by them the same way they damaged Clint. You know what he’s been through because you’ve been through it. Isn’t that right?” She saw the pain in Todd’s eyes before they dropped.
Todd drained his beer and picked up Viki’s glass, taking another big gulp. “Yes. I know,” he said grimly. “Viki, this organization is trouble. What they’ve done to Victor and Clint are small potatoes. I found out today who’s behind Alison. It’s a good thing you’re sitting down because you’re not going to believe this. Carl Peterson is the man who put all this in motion.”
“That can’t be. The man is a well-known philanthropist. He’s also a confidant and friend of the President. Why on earth would he be helping Alison? Surely you’re mistaken.”
“I wish I was. Viki, think about it. You said yourself he has the friendship of the President. That means he has power. Why would he help Alison? That’s easy. They’re brother and sister.”
“My God, that woman is his sister? This is all so bewildering. You say Alison’s been running this compound. When did you find out Clint was there?”
“Well, I got word from my inside man at the compound that I was right about Victor being there, and I remembered a day when I saw another man delivered there. It was shortly after Clint had his meltdown. From the things my contact told me about the man, I finally figured out it might be Clint. Blair and I had a long talk the last time I saw her and she made me realize that my contact might be playing both sides. That’s when I decided to go into the compound.” Todd chugged the rest of the beer and set the glass on the counter. He leaned back against the counter, taking a moment to rub his forehead as a headache started to form.. All the adrenaline that had flowed through him when he confronted Victor was gone. Wearily he looked at his sister. “You were right. Clint is shakier than I thought he was. I should have known he wasn’t up to watching Victor.”
Viki knew how hard it was for Todd to admit when he was wrong. “Blair told me you’ve been having trouble sleeping. You’ve taken on a lot the last couple of days. It terrifies me knowing you went back into the place where Irene held you.”
“How did you..?” Todd looked at her in surprise.
“Blair told me that, too. She’s worried about you and so am I. That’s why I’m staying Todd. Clint needs to have time to recover properly. I’ve already made arrangements to stay down here for a while. The Banner is holding its own. Nigel believed the cover story as did my editors at the paper. I’m here working with you on more financial matters. No one will know the real reason for my absence from Llanview.”
Todd cleared his voice. He had to make one more plea to get Viki to go home. “You saw Victor. He’s not going to give up trying to get back to the Organization. I thought if I had a little time with him, he would snap out of it, but they’ve got too strong a hold on him. If he gets free, he could hurt you and I’d never forgive myself.”
“Look at you. You’re totally exhausted. Here you are trying to help Clint and get through to Victor. Judging by how late you arrived home this evening, you’re still keeping on top of your new company too. You’re spreading yourself so thin you’re going to collapse. You need my help. Now I find out this news about Carl Peterson. We need to get Bo involved. If not him, then let me get Jeffrey looking into Carl.”
“Hell No, Viki. That’s the last person you should be talking to. Now that we know Peterson’s behind this, we can’t trust anyone who’s close to him. This Jeffrey, he arrived in town the same night I did, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he had just given me the Dorian Lord Story and came to town to follow up on it.”
“Awfully convenient that he arrived in town on the same night Dani overdosed.“
“Wait, you think he might have had something to do with Dani’s overdose.”
“I don’t know Viki, but how coincidental is it that he also knew her from London. Let’s look at the story he got you. Why bring it to you when he could have given it to any one of the national papers?”
“He brought it to me because Dorian was a Pennsylvania senator.”
“Okay, maybe. But he never told you his source. What if one of Peterson’s well-place friends gave him the story and he was encouraged to bring it to you? I’m sorry, I don’t trust the guy. He got close to this family, way too fast. He has an in with you, with Matthew, and with Dani. Matthew knew about Dani using Oxi and Bo supposedly had her stash, yet she still overdosed after partying with Matthew and Jeffrey. I know Bo thinks someone else did it but can we be sure? I don’t think I can anymore. For the time being, we can’t get anyone else involved. No one can find out about Clint or Victor, especially anyone connected to Peterson.”
“What aren’t you telling me about Peterson?” Viki asked. Todd was being evasive and she wanted to know why.
Todd turned back to the shelf and got two coffee cups down. He carefully poured the cups and brought them over to the table, setting one down in front of Viki. He sat down across from her. “I found out some interesting stuff concerning the compound. Believe me, if what I believe is true, this is going to upset a lot of applecarts. Are you sure you’re up to hearing this?”
“Todd, I’ve survived dying three times and you’ve survived more than that. Just tell me what you’ve found out.” She picked up her coffee and sat back in her chair, knowing it was going to be a long night.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
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Todd stepped past Viki and went to Clint. “Knock it off, Victor. She’s here because she’s worried about us, including you.” He reached Clint and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey old man, I think you should call it a night.” He frowned when Clint looked at him bewildered.
“Manning, is that you?” Clint shook his head again. “Where are we?”
“Easy, Clint. You’re at my place, remember? You’ve had a long day.”
Clint looked around the room for a moment. Victor was lying on the bed smirking at him, and Todd appeared upset. He spotted the food sitting on the table not far from him and suddenly everything popped back into place. “I remember...I...I was getting ready to give Victor some dinner.” He rounded to look down at Victor. “What did you do to me?”
“Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about Clint. One minute we were talking and the next, you just got this blank look on your face. I told you. You’re not well. Manning should never have taken you from the Institute.”
Viki gasped at the outright lie.
Clint turned and saw her still standing where she had come to a stop in the doorway. “Viki? You don’t believe that, do you? I’m fine, I tell you.”
Viki moved into the room and headed for Clint. “Yes, Clint, don’t worry. You’ve just been through a lot lately. Todd’s right you should probably go to bed. Come on. Show me where you’re staying.” She took Clint’s hand and helped him off the bed. His hand was clammy and he was even paler than at dinner. “Todd, if it’s alright with you, I’ll take the room next to Clint.”
Todd nodded. Viki had been right. Clint was too shaky to leave alone with Victor again. ”Go ahead. I’ll take care of Victor.” He watched as they left the room, then moved to stand above his brother. “You Bastard! Right now all I want to do is put my hands round your neck and finish the job the organization asked me to do.”
“You won’t. You had your chance in the compound and you couldn’t do it. Didn’t you say you promised Tea you’d let me live? That’s why I’m here, right?” Victor had seen the compassion Todd had shown Clint. “You really have gotten soft. Mother knew what she was doing when she put me in charge all those years ago. It’s too bad Baker made the mistake and let you escape. I got to know Baker really well these past few weeks. I even watched him work on Clint. The man’s a master at his craft. He’ll find you. I don’t care where we are, Baker will get a line on you and Alison will have her men freeing me in no time.”
Todd’s blood had started to boil when Victor mentioned Irene, but at the sound of Baker’s name, a strange sense of relief filled him. Victor had no idea Baker had worked on him too. That fact, and the fact that Victor believed Baker was faithful to the organization, was proof that Baker had hoodwinked Alison thoroughly. Bravo Baker. I hope you enjoy the hell out of my money. Todd laughed suddenly, “You have me quaking in my boots. Not! Alison and her goons have stopped searching for me. They have no reason to suspect me. They think I’m dead, but you’re the one who should worry. My guess is, they think you helped Buchanan escape. If Baker is out looking for anyone, it’s you. They probably think they failed to get you fully under control and they have no idea what a good little soldier you’ve become. But I know and you won’t get another chance to play on Clint’s mind. To quote you, you had your chance and you lost.”
Todd sat down next to his brother on the bed. He leaned in close to Victor’s head and whispered. “Mind games don’t work with me. I’m not the Organization’s puppet, and I found out today who’s in charge of your little club.”
Victor’s eyes widened as he realized what Todd was telling him. He cracked his head into Todd’s, hoping to knock him out. He had to get loose and warn the organization.
Todd, though partially dazed, reacted quickly and with one hand around Victor’s neck, he slammed his brother’s head back against the headboard. He began to squeeze and cut off Victor’s air but then saw himself losing his last breath at Victor’s hand. Abruptly he let go. “I’ve never in my life killed a man in cold blood and you won’t be the first, Victor. That’s all you, not me.”
Coughing and trying to catch his breath, Victor wheezed out. “The night you shot me was as cold-blooded as it gets.”
“So we’re back to that. Your memories and mine don’t match. I’m wondering if I ever shot you at all.” Todd reached and ripped the front of Victor’s shirt open. He sat back stunned. There was no sign that Victor had ever been shot in the chest, no old wound or scar, nothing. Todd closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. It all began to make sense. I didn’t shoot him. It was all Irene’s doing. She tampered with my mind.
Seeing Todd’s reaction, Victor sneered. “Not a pretty sight is it? You shot me and just left me to bleed to death. I look at it every day, wanting you to suffer the way I suffered for the last year.”
Todd was shocked. “Victor, there’s nothing there. What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“You’re just going to ignore what’s right in front of your eyes. You’re blind as well as crazy. I thought Clint was nuts when he was talking about imaginary needle marks, and now you’re sitting there denying the scar left in my chest by the bullet you fired into me.” Victor hated the scar over his heart. He had even kept it hidden from Tea by telling her he didn’t want to remind her of the night he died. Rage filled him as he looked at Todd. “I should have made sure you were dead before I left your room that night in Llanview. You’re nothing but a rabid dog that needs to be put down.”
Todd got off the bed and put some space between himself and his brother. “God, you have no idea how much I hate you. You and Irene stole my life for eight years and you think the one year you that were torn away from Tea makes up for that. Hell no! The only rabid dog in this room is you. I know you killed a man in Llanview, then you tried to poison me. After that you practically strangled me. For all I know, you also killed the private investigator I hired to try and find you for Tea. You’re the cold-blooded killer here. You’re also a fool.” He walked over to the bowl of stew congealing on the table. “I’m guessing you’re not hungry anymore.”
“Go to Hell!” Victor said vehemently.
Todd picked up the tray. “That’s what I thought.” He walked to the door and turned around just before exiting. “ Victor, I’m only going to say this once. You’re the one who’s blind. There’s no scar on your chest, but, your arm is covered with needle marks just like Clint’s are. They’ve gotten to you. They lied about Tea and Dani, and they led you to believe I shot you. Neither of those things happened. Think about that. By the way, if you ever belittle Viki again, I’ll tear your tongue out and feed it to you.”
Todd walked the tray back downstairs and dumped the food out. Victor wouldn’t starve missing one meal.
****
Viki walked past Victor’s room and paused. The scene from earlier wouldn’t go away. Victor had actually tried to manipulate Clint into letting him free and it hadn’t been just by reasoning with him. He had been working on Clint’s mind. It had been so deliberate. The ugly truth was, that something was terribly wrong with Victor. She shook her head and continued to Todd’s room, she needed to know everything he could tell her. The room was empty so she headed downstairs and heard activity in the kitchen. Opening the door, she saw Todd pull a beer out of the refrigerator. “Oh, how I wish I could have something like that right now. Do you have any Coffee?”
Shaking his head no, Todd looked over at his sister and removed a second bottle, and twisted the cap off.. Grabbing a glass off the shelf he poured it and handed it to her. “Here Sis, live a little, one won’t kill you. Hell, look at Clint. He’s got a new heart and he drinks the hard stuff.”
Viki shook her head. ”No, I can’t.”
“Drink it, Viki. Just a sip. It will do you good. Come on. Niki wouldn’t hesitate.”
Viki smiled a faint smile and took the glass. “Niki would rather have a scotch.”
Todd grinned. “I’ve got some of that too.” He watched her take a sip, grimace at the taste and put the drink on the counter. “Okay, I’ll make some coffee.” He turned towards the counter and began making a pot.
Viki sat down at the table. She looked around and noted that Todd had moved all the dishes to the sink and had turned off the stew. “Did Victor eat anything?”
“No,” Todd said tersely, his hand clenching around the coffee pot for a moment.
She could hear the anger in Todd’s voice. “What happened after I took Clint out of the room?”
Todd put the coffee on, grabbed his beer, and turned back to his sister.“I didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re asking. He’s a fool and the biggest problem is, he’s a brainwashed one.”
“You wouldn’t kill him. I know that. You know he’s been damaged by them the same way they damaged Clint. You know what he’s been through because you’ve been through it. Isn’t that right?” She saw the pain in Todd’s eyes before they dropped.
Todd drained his beer and picked up Viki’s glass, taking another big gulp. “Yes. I know,” he said grimly. “Viki, this organization is trouble. What they’ve done to Victor and Clint are small potatoes. I found out today who’s behind Alison. It’s a good thing you’re sitting down because you’re not going to believe this. Carl Peterson is the man who put all this in motion.”
“That can’t be. The man is a well-known philanthropist. He’s also a confidant and friend of the President. Why on earth would he be helping Alison? Surely you’re mistaken.”
“I wish I was. Viki, think about it. You said yourself he has the friendship of the President. That means he has power. Why would he help Alison? That’s easy. They’re brother and sister.”
“My God, that woman is his sister? This is all so bewildering. You say Alison’s been running this compound. When did you find out Clint was there?”
“Well, I got word from my inside man at the compound that I was right about Victor being there, and I remembered a day when I saw another man delivered there. It was shortly after Clint had his meltdown. From the things my contact told me about the man, I finally figured out it might be Clint. Blair and I had a long talk the last time I saw her and she made me realize that my contact might be playing both sides. That’s when I decided to go into the compound.” Todd chugged the rest of the beer and set the glass on the counter. He leaned back against the counter, taking a moment to rub his forehead as a headache started to form.. All the adrenaline that had flowed through him when he confronted Victor was gone. Wearily he looked at his sister. “You were right. Clint is shakier than I thought he was. I should have known he wasn’t up to watching Victor.”
Viki knew how hard it was for Todd to admit when he was wrong. “Blair told me you’ve been having trouble sleeping. You’ve taken on a lot the last couple of days. It terrifies me knowing you went back into the place where Irene held you.”
“How did you..?” Todd looked at her in surprise.
“Blair told me that, too. She’s worried about you and so am I. That’s why I’m staying Todd. Clint needs to have time to recover properly. I’ve already made arrangements to stay down here for a while. The Banner is holding its own. Nigel believed the cover story as did my editors at the paper. I’m here working with you on more financial matters. No one will know the real reason for my absence from Llanview.”
Todd cleared his voice. He had to make one more plea to get Viki to go home. “You saw Victor. He’s not going to give up trying to get back to the Organization. I thought if I had a little time with him, he would snap out of it, but they’ve got too strong a hold on him. If he gets free, he could hurt you and I’d never forgive myself.”
“Look at you. You’re totally exhausted. Here you are trying to help Clint and get through to Victor. Judging by how late you arrived home this evening, you’re still keeping on top of your new company too. You’re spreading yourself so thin you’re going to collapse. You need my help. Now I find out this news about Carl Peterson. We need to get Bo involved. If not him, then let me get Jeffrey looking into Carl.”
“Hell No, Viki. That’s the last person you should be talking to. Now that we know Peterson’s behind this, we can’t trust anyone who’s close to him. This Jeffrey, he arrived in town the same night I did, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he had just given me the Dorian Lord Story and came to town to follow up on it.”
“Awfully convenient that he arrived in town on the same night Dani overdosed.“
“Wait, you think he might have had something to do with Dani’s overdose.”
“I don’t know Viki, but how coincidental is it that he also knew her from London. Let’s look at the story he got you. Why bring it to you when he could have given it to any one of the national papers?”
“He brought it to me because Dorian was a Pennsylvania senator.”
“Okay, maybe. But he never told you his source. What if one of Peterson’s well-place friends gave him the story and he was encouraged to bring it to you? I’m sorry, I don’t trust the guy. He got close to this family, way too fast. He has an in with you, with Matthew, and with Dani. Matthew knew about Dani using Oxi and Bo supposedly had her stash, yet she still overdosed after partying with Matthew and Jeffrey. I know Bo thinks someone else did it but can we be sure? I don’t think I can anymore. For the time being, we can’t get anyone else involved. No one can find out about Clint or Victor, especially anyone connected to Peterson.”
“What aren’t you telling me about Peterson?” Viki asked. Todd was being evasive and she wanted to know why.
Todd turned back to the shelf and got two coffee cups down. He carefully poured the cups and brought them over to the table, setting one down in front of Viki. He sat down across from her. “I found out some interesting stuff concerning the compound. Believe me, if what I believe is true, this is going to upset a lot of applecarts. Are you sure you’re up to hearing this?”
“Todd, I’ve survived dying three times and you’ve survived more than that. Just tell me what you’ve found out.” She picked up her coffee and sat back in her chair, knowing it was going to be a long night.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
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Sunday, August 3, 2014
Failings of the Fathers: 10
"I just called Aiden," he said, climbing into the bed beside her. She was propped on a pillow, and her baby belly was poking out quite a bit. She rested her magazine on it.
"How is he?"
"He's fine. He's made friends, some guys around the clinic. He's getting ready to make some real decisions."
"What about Timothy? Did he have anything to tell you?"
"He said that he sees where I opened an account, but it was when I first got my inheritance. Or it seems like around that time. Then I opened a blind trust. . . sort of near the time of the stables. When he told me the date, I realized what was familiar about it. Not long after that, I asked you to be my wife again, and you told me about Starr."
He seemed distracted, almost confused. She asked, "What's the matter?"
"I don't remember doing it. At all. The blind trust, I mean."
"That's all right. So much has happened. You were . . . very ill. You were so hurt. In Ireland. It's easy to forget things when you're trying to forget that kind of painful experience."
"I . . . just don't understand. I . . . think it makes sense that I would open a trust for her. But, I don't get why I can't recall it."
"Okay, but maybe that will come to you later."
"Yeah, sure."
"Where was the account?"
"Off the account I made in Switzerland. Remember when we were divorcing? You went out there, I did transactions there. We were at each others' throats. I've had that account since we first got the money. Way back."
"I do remember that. I brought Swiss chocolates back and offered you one. How could we have hated each other that way?"
"There's a thin line between love and hate, Babe."
"We were disappointed in each other."
"I tried to hurt you."
"You stopped yourself."
"Because I loved you."
"I know that. I didn't even want to leave you at first. Certain people talked me into it."
Dorian came immediately to mind. "Figures."
It was quiet for a moment. Jewel kicked, to make her presence known. Blair adjusted herself in the bed, and said, "Gosh, she kicks so hard."
"She's a fighter, like her Mom."
"And her Dad. This money thing isn't bothering you, is it?"
"Yep, a little. Not that it means much, but Dad found a discrepancy. Seems the account was tampered with somehow, with the blind trust I supposedly set up. Of course, no one is sure whether or not it was me, since I . . ." he went silent.
She touched his head. "It's all right. I'm telling you, you will remember. You've always remembered eventually."
"I guess." He folded his arms over his chest. "I just always have a clear head about finances."
"You do," she said.
"And why not now?"
"Todd, stop a minute. Okay, please? This has been so much, from the first bit of your return and uncovering piles and piles of memories, it's just expected that you might forget something like this."
"Well, if so, the trust siphoned money off my estate since late 94."
She put her magazine down. Siphoned money, since 94. Since 94.. . what if . . .
"Hey. Earth to Blair?"
"Yeah, sorry, I was thinking. You opened an account in a Swiss bank when you got the inheritance. You don't remember opening a blind trust for Starr when I was pregnant with her. Money was siphoned off it since 94. Right?"
"Yep."
"Okay, well, Timothy can get to the bottom of it, can't he?"
"He'll try."
"Let's leave it to him."
"All right. I just . . . I feel strange, Blair. Like there's something poking out of the water, and if I grab it and pull, a huge monster is going to be under there."
She didn't answer.
What if there IS a monster?
She decided to say something. "Well, then Ray. Talk to him."
"I will. I know, maybe he can help."
"Maybe." She fingered the corner of the page in her magazine. "Maybe we should stop talking about this?"
"Maybe. You have to admit, where Ireland is concerned, the line between memory and forgetting is pretty thin."
"Yeah," she said, and pictured Todd yanking Peter Manning, covered in slime and moss, from the water. She pushed it away from her mind.
He said, "I mean, some of the things I did remember, they were so real. The stuff on the phone. The clinic. Today it sent me into being breathless, literally."
"Umm hmm."
"Will you sing to me?"
"Now?"
"Yeah. Will you?"
"If you want me to."
"Can you sing me what you sang when we got married, you know, the last time, when I just got back?"
"I think I can, sure."
He put his head into her lap, or what was left of it. His face was right next to his daughter. He closed his eyes. "I'm ready."
The very thought of you
Makes my heart sing
Like an April breeze
On the wings of Spring
And you appear in all your splendor
My One and Only Love
The shadows fall and spread their
Mystic Charms
In the hush of night
While you're in my arms
I feel your lips so warm and tender
My One and Only Love
The touch of your hand
is like Heaven
A Heaven that I've never known
The blush on your cheek
Whenever I speak
Tells me that you are my own
You fill my eager heart with such desire
Every kiss you give sets my soul on fire
I give myself in sweet surrender
My One and Only Love
My One and Only Love
He was asleep, and she hated to wake him. Instead, she shifted the pillows and slid down, so they could both rest, after shutting the light. His feet were slightly off his end of the king bed, but she knew he'd adjust himself if he needed to. His breathing was shallow and peaceful, and his chest rose and fell in a way that spoke calm.
Finally, she closed her eyes, and tried to embrace sleep. Jewel was active. She continued to ignore her daughter, and try and rest. Her eyes were shut, and everything was quiet.
After a while, she reopened them. She couldn't sleep, or keep her eyes closed. She could see the outline of her husband's peaceful face. She could not get the image of the monster in the water out of her mind.
***
Blair had finally fallen asleep after quite a long period staring at the ceiling. In the midst of slumber, she heard some noise, and light was strangely peeping into her vision. She turned onto her side, and then, remembering, realized Todd was no longer with his head in her lap.
She got up, and walked over to him. He was sitting staring into the fire he had just made, and in his hand - was the lighter.
She didn't want to startle him, or make him feel as though he scared her. She whispered, "I thought you weren't sure you had that anymore," she said, as matter-of-factly as she could.
"I wasn't. But it was there."
She hugged him from the back. "Why do you have it?" she carefully whispered.
He flicked the top. "I . . . just went and looked for it. I . . . I had a dream, it was pretty real. It just made me go and look, I guess."
She stared over his shoulder at the instrument of torment in his hand. "That was a long time ago, My Love."
"It was." He tossed it onto the coffee table, and then she noticed him looking at the scar in question.
"Try and forget about it . . ."
He suddenly pulled away from her. "I can't," he said, clearly agitated. He got up and began pacing in the sitting area. The light of the fire cast a warm glow over his skin, and accentuated his physical beauty. "I can't, don't you get it? I have to get it straight in my head, somehow. Or maybe I should just face facts. I'm crazy, just like we thought before, just like I've feared. Just like . . . he'd want."
"Todd, no, you're not. I don't think you're crazy."
"You don't want me to be. You don't want to lose me. Can you honestly say you think I'm sane?"
"Yes. Yes I do. Because . . . well," Careful. " . . . just because I do."
"Because you want me to be. You can't face losing me. You'll have all these kids to raise, without me around."
"Todd. Stop, that's not . . .I raised them before without you. How would this be any different?"
"You think I'm sane because you want me to be. And that's not enough."
"No, you're wrong. That's not it," she tried to calm him.
"No? Then what? These crazy dreams, memories, all this terrible shit that happened to me. How can I be sane? How can we be 'normal,' even Manning normal?"
"We just can be, that's all." She waited. "I believe you."
He stopped, and ran his fingers through his hair. "What did you say?"
"I said I believe you."
"What do you mean?" he said, and she saw it on his face. Her man - who fought so hard to get back to them and could face anything - was afraid.
"I believe whatever you do. Whatever is it you're really thinking? Instead of going off this way, why don't you just tell me?"
He sat down next to her, in the firelight, and looked deflated. He said, "I think . . . I think he was there, Blair. I think he was there by my bed, and that he burned me. That makes me crazy."
"What if someone did burn you? What if it wasn't him, but someone did? Why can't that be?"
"Why would someone burn me? He was the only one . . ." He suddenly stopped and the silence, however short, was like a door slamming. "I guess he was not the only one, was he?"
"No, because later, those men did that very thing to you. You could be right. It might not be him, but it could have happened." She was treading carefully, and then said, "I . . . get confused too, Todd. You're not the only one. In fact, sometimes I feel like I know that burn, and it isn't from your latest return to me."
His face changed. He seemed blank, but something in his posture became hopeful. "You remember it?"
"I'm not positive, but I thought so. When you first said it. Of course, there are so many now, I just can't be sure. We weren't intimate really, or near each other much when you got back from Ireland. It wasn't until a few years later, after Tea, that we ever made love again. But I feel like I saw it. Around the time . . . when things weren't so good."
He didn't speak. "So, maybe I'm not making this up. Someone could have burned me, I don't know why I never thought of that. And someone could have called me."
"Yes, someone could have. Why not? All these other things happened? Carlo's men knew how to get to you."
He looked at her, and finally smiled. "I'm trying to imagine myself without you right now, and I just can't."
She raised an eyebrow. "If you're imagining yourself without me, why are you smiling?" her hand was circling her belly.
"Because you're here."
She waited. "I don't know what all this means, but give yourself some credit. Maybe it is real."
"He can't be alive, Blair," he said, looking away from her into the fire. Both his hands became tight fists.
"No, he can't be alive, My Love." She gulped, hoping he didn't hear her. "But all those men. The Men of 21. They don't care whether this confuses you or not."
"They don't and Peter, he can't be alive," he said, "It could be in my mind. . ."
"It could be. But it also may not be. Todd, let's go to bed. You can have the pleasure of rubbing my back."
"That sounds like a fair exchange for being married to you," he said, standing first. He put out his hand, and she took it.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
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"How is he?"
"He's fine. He's made friends, some guys around the clinic. He's getting ready to make some real decisions."
"What about Timothy? Did he have anything to tell you?"
"He said that he sees where I opened an account, but it was when I first got my inheritance. Or it seems like around that time. Then I opened a blind trust. . . sort of near the time of the stables. When he told me the date, I realized what was familiar about it. Not long after that, I asked you to be my wife again, and you told me about Starr."
He seemed distracted, almost confused. She asked, "What's the matter?"
"I don't remember doing it. At all. The blind trust, I mean."
"That's all right. So much has happened. You were . . . very ill. You were so hurt. In Ireland. It's easy to forget things when you're trying to forget that kind of painful experience."
"I . . . just don't understand. I . . . think it makes sense that I would open a trust for her. But, I don't get why I can't recall it."
"Okay, but maybe that will come to you later."
"Yeah, sure."
"Where was the account?"
"Off the account I made in Switzerland. Remember when we were divorcing? You went out there, I did transactions there. We were at each others' throats. I've had that account since we first got the money. Way back."
"I do remember that. I brought Swiss chocolates back and offered you one. How could we have hated each other that way?"
"There's a thin line between love and hate, Babe."
"We were disappointed in each other."
"I tried to hurt you."
"You stopped yourself."
"Because I loved you."
"I know that. I didn't even want to leave you at first. Certain people talked me into it."
Dorian came immediately to mind. "Figures."
It was quiet for a moment. Jewel kicked, to make her presence known. Blair adjusted herself in the bed, and said, "Gosh, she kicks so hard."
"She's a fighter, like her Mom."
"And her Dad. This money thing isn't bothering you, is it?"
"Yep, a little. Not that it means much, but Dad found a discrepancy. Seems the account was tampered with somehow, with the blind trust I supposedly set up. Of course, no one is sure whether or not it was me, since I . . ." he went silent.
She touched his head. "It's all right. I'm telling you, you will remember. You've always remembered eventually."
"I guess." He folded his arms over his chest. "I just always have a clear head about finances."
"You do," she said.
"And why not now?"
"Todd, stop a minute. Okay, please? This has been so much, from the first bit of your return and uncovering piles and piles of memories, it's just expected that you might forget something like this."
"Well, if so, the trust siphoned money off my estate since late 94."
She put her magazine down. Siphoned money, since 94. Since 94.. . what if . . .
"Hey. Earth to Blair?"
"Yeah, sorry, I was thinking. You opened an account in a Swiss bank when you got the inheritance. You don't remember opening a blind trust for Starr when I was pregnant with her. Money was siphoned off it since 94. Right?"
"Yep."
"Okay, well, Timothy can get to the bottom of it, can't he?"
"He'll try."
"Let's leave it to him."
"All right. I just . . . I feel strange, Blair. Like there's something poking out of the water, and if I grab it and pull, a huge monster is going to be under there."
She didn't answer.
What if there IS a monster?
She decided to say something. "Well, then Ray. Talk to him."
"I will. I know, maybe he can help."
"Maybe." She fingered the corner of the page in her magazine. "Maybe we should stop talking about this?"
"Maybe. You have to admit, where Ireland is concerned, the line between memory and forgetting is pretty thin."
"Yeah," she said, and pictured Todd yanking Peter Manning, covered in slime and moss, from the water. She pushed it away from her mind.
He said, "I mean, some of the things I did remember, they were so real. The stuff on the phone. The clinic. Today it sent me into being breathless, literally."
"Umm hmm."
"Will you sing to me?"
"Now?"
"Yeah. Will you?"
"If you want me to."
"Can you sing me what you sang when we got married, you know, the last time, when I just got back?"
"I think I can, sure."
He put his head into her lap, or what was left of it. His face was right next to his daughter. He closed his eyes. "I'm ready."
The very thought of you
Makes my heart sing
Like an April breeze
On the wings of Spring
And you appear in all your splendor
My One and Only Love
The shadows fall and spread their
Mystic Charms
In the hush of night
While you're in my arms
I feel your lips so warm and tender
My One and Only Love
The touch of your hand
is like Heaven
A Heaven that I've never known
The blush on your cheek
Whenever I speak
Tells me that you are my own
You fill my eager heart with such desire
Every kiss you give sets my soul on fire
I give myself in sweet surrender
My One and Only Love
My One and Only Love
He was asleep, and she hated to wake him. Instead, she shifted the pillows and slid down, so they could both rest, after shutting the light. His feet were slightly off his end of the king bed, but she knew he'd adjust himself if he needed to. His breathing was shallow and peaceful, and his chest rose and fell in a way that spoke calm.
Finally, she closed her eyes, and tried to embrace sleep. Jewel was active. She continued to ignore her daughter, and try and rest. Her eyes were shut, and everything was quiet.
After a while, she reopened them. She couldn't sleep, or keep her eyes closed. She could see the outline of her husband's peaceful face. She could not get the image of the monster in the water out of her mind.
***
Blair had finally fallen asleep after quite a long period staring at the ceiling. In the midst of slumber, she heard some noise, and light was strangely peeping into her vision. She turned onto her side, and then, remembering, realized Todd was no longer with his head in her lap.
She got up, and walked over to him. He was sitting staring into the fire he had just made, and in his hand - was the lighter.
She didn't want to startle him, or make him feel as though he scared her. She whispered, "I thought you weren't sure you had that anymore," she said, as matter-of-factly as she could.
"I wasn't. But it was there."
She hugged him from the back. "Why do you have it?" she carefully whispered.
He flicked the top. "I . . . just went and looked for it. I . . . I had a dream, it was pretty real. It just made me go and look, I guess."
She stared over his shoulder at the instrument of torment in his hand. "That was a long time ago, My Love."
"It was." He tossed it onto the coffee table, and then she noticed him looking at the scar in question.
"Try and forget about it . . ."
He suddenly pulled away from her. "I can't," he said, clearly agitated. He got up and began pacing in the sitting area. The light of the fire cast a warm glow over his skin, and accentuated his physical beauty. "I can't, don't you get it? I have to get it straight in my head, somehow. Or maybe I should just face facts. I'm crazy, just like we thought before, just like I've feared. Just like . . . he'd want."
"Todd, no, you're not. I don't think you're crazy."
"You don't want me to be. You don't want to lose me. Can you honestly say you think I'm sane?"
"Yes. Yes I do. Because . . . well," Careful. " . . . just because I do."
"Because you want me to be. You can't face losing me. You'll have all these kids to raise, without me around."
"Todd. Stop, that's not . . .I raised them before without you. How would this be any different?"
"You think I'm sane because you want me to be. And that's not enough."
"No, you're wrong. That's not it," she tried to calm him.
"No? Then what? These crazy dreams, memories, all this terrible shit that happened to me. How can I be sane? How can we be 'normal,' even Manning normal?"
"We just can be, that's all." She waited. "I believe you."
He stopped, and ran his fingers through his hair. "What did you say?"
"I said I believe you."
"What do you mean?" he said, and she saw it on his face. Her man - who fought so hard to get back to them and could face anything - was afraid.
"I believe whatever you do. Whatever is it you're really thinking? Instead of going off this way, why don't you just tell me?"
He sat down next to her, in the firelight, and looked deflated. He said, "I think . . . I think he was there, Blair. I think he was there by my bed, and that he burned me. That makes me crazy."
"What if someone did burn you? What if it wasn't him, but someone did? Why can't that be?"
"Why would someone burn me? He was the only one . . ." He suddenly stopped and the silence, however short, was like a door slamming. "I guess he was not the only one, was he?"
"No, because later, those men did that very thing to you. You could be right. It might not be him, but it could have happened." She was treading carefully, and then said, "I . . . get confused too, Todd. You're not the only one. In fact, sometimes I feel like I know that burn, and it isn't from your latest return to me."
His face changed. He seemed blank, but something in his posture became hopeful. "You remember it?"
"I'm not positive, but I thought so. When you first said it. Of course, there are so many now, I just can't be sure. We weren't intimate really, or near each other much when you got back from Ireland. It wasn't until a few years later, after Tea, that we ever made love again. But I feel like I saw it. Around the time . . . when things weren't so good."
He didn't speak. "So, maybe I'm not making this up. Someone could have burned me, I don't know why I never thought of that. And someone could have called me."
"Yes, someone could have. Why not? All these other things happened? Carlo's men knew how to get to you."
He looked at her, and finally smiled. "I'm trying to imagine myself without you right now, and I just can't."
She raised an eyebrow. "If you're imagining yourself without me, why are you smiling?" her hand was circling her belly.
"Because you're here."
She waited. "I don't know what all this means, but give yourself some credit. Maybe it is real."
"He can't be alive, Blair," he said, looking away from her into the fire. Both his hands became tight fists.
"No, he can't be alive, My Love." She gulped, hoping he didn't hear her. "But all those men. The Men of 21. They don't care whether this confuses you or not."
"They don't and Peter, he can't be alive," he said, "It could be in my mind. . ."
"It could be. But it also may not be. Todd, let's go to bed. You can have the pleasure of rubbing my back."
"That sounds like a fair exchange for being married to you," he said, standing first. He put out his hand, and she took it.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Your comments are 'payment' for the work of the authors. Our writers like to hear your feedback. Please leave a comment when you read.
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