Failings of the Fathers: 27

"How would standing outside our house bring you that.  No offense, Buddy, but you're basically stalking us, and that could be a case for the police."  The man said.  He had tucked the newspaper under his arm, and Todd could see a pistol holster on the left of his body.  

He is a cop, or something . . .

"I didn't mean any trouble."  He walked forward.  The guy wasn't being aggressive or even defensive.  He put out his hand. "I'm Todd Manning, but I guess you already know that."

"I do."  He stepped down onto the path toward Todd, and took his hand and shook it.  "I'm Jack.  Jack Ribsky."

"Jack, my son's name is Jack.  For John."

"Same here."  The man seemed to be about ten years younger than Connie would be.  His salt and pepper hair was still pretty full on top, and he was in decent shape.  He said, "It's cold out.  You want to come in?"

Todd felt woozy for a moment, and grabbed the railing, before saying, "I would, yeah."

"You okay?" Jack asked.

"I'm fine, just . . . nervous, I guess."  He followed the man inside.  The house was warm, and decorated pleasantly.  

A woman was at the table, with a cup of tea in front of her.  Todd could not get warm, and he felt as if his shivering was evident to anyone observing him.  She said, "Dear, sit down, you're pale as a ghost."

Ghost.  I am one.  Especially to Connie, most likely. 

"My sister went to change.  She was still in her robe and bedclothes.  We're assuming you're here to see her?"

"Yes,"  he said, his hands still in his pockets for warmth.  "I wanted to talk to her."

"Well, she'll be right back.  I insist you drink some of this, you're very pale, and you're shaking."

She handed him a cup of tea.  He put his hands around it for warmth, and closed his eyes a minute.  Then, he lifted the cup and sipped.  In a few minutes, he was warmer, and felt calmer.

Down a small staircase came Connie Bensonhurst.  She said, "Todd?"

He stood, "Connie?"

"Yes.  I must look a great deal different.  You've barely changed, just less hair."  She stiffly smiled.  

He breathed out, and his sigh was audible.  "You . . . probably are not happy to see me.  We didn't exactly leave off on a good note."

"No, we didn't.  I am sure it's no joyride for you either."

He wiped his palms on his coat.  "I've come to ask you . . . something."

"All right.  Maybe we can go into the living room.  But I will tell you, my brother-in-law and sister will be nearby."

"Of course.  I understand."

He followed her into a sitting room, replete with floral tapestry and light colors.  He sat down, and she handed him his tea.  He placed it on the coffee table in front of him, and said, "I don't want to have to be in town longer than I have to, so I'll get to the point.  Is my father dead?"

"Todd, you know he's dead.  He died in front of you."

"I mean, is he really dead?  You had him cremated.  You were his sole beneficiary.  I didn't ever see his body buried."

She got up and walked to the mantle.  "He's right here."  She ran her fingers over a tall, thin urn, the color of hay.

He swallowed.  "Did you see . . .I'm sorry," he cleared his throat.  She went back to the couch, and crossed her leg over the other.  He did notice that she still was rather . . . cold.  "I meant, were you there . . ."

"When they incinerated him?  Yes.  I was there.  I saw it happen, first hand."

He drank his tea, which was losing its warmth.  "Can you be sure?"

"Todd, I know this must be difficult, for whatever reason, but can you explain to me why you came all this way to dredge this up?"

"For whatever reason?"  He felt his ire rising.  He saw Jack Ribsky standing in the archway between the rooms.  "For whatever reason," he brought his voice down, and stated instead of asked.  "There's reason.  Why did you leave that house and have it boarded up and never sell it?"

She flushed pink, and ran her finger inside her collar.  She was clearly uncomfortable.  "I didn't want to be bothered with it."

"Because?"

"Because . . . Todd, perhaps you ought to get to the point.  I'm not the one who sought you out."  Her face took on the look he was used to.  Pert, tight, mean.  

"I'm sorry again.  If you want to deny that you know what was in that house, then fine.  I'm here because over the years, I've been through a lot of things.  Recently, my memories were recaptured, and I've had to face some truths about Peter Manning.  I've had to face some very hard truths."

"Go on."  She would not budge.

"Part of this leaves me needing to know if he's alive.  I need to protect my family. . ."  As much as he tried, he could not mask the emotion in his voice, as it cracked.

She slightly wavered.  Jack, at the doorway still, unfolded his arms, studying Todd.

Todd said, "I can't let anything happen to them.  I have three boys.  One is three years old.  I have a new daughter, she's just been born.  I . . . have to know, if he is alive, don't you see?"

She didn't respond.  She just clasped her hands tighter around her knee.  

Jack Ribsky stepped forward into the room.  He said, "You can't believe he would hurt your children, if he were alive?"

"I have my reasons to believe he would, yes."  Todd said, holding his anger and urge to burst firmly in check.

"That's preposterous!"  Connie exclaimed.  She didn't move, physically, but her voice elevated.

"Preposterous?"  Todd said, sitting forward.  "Let's get something straight, Lady," he tried to imagine Blair, calming him, in his mind, her hand on his shoulder, and changed his tone, "there's nothing preposterous about it.  He was a brutal, hateful, sadistic bastard."

"I don't know what you're remembering, but he was a gentle, kind and caring person."

Todd sat back, and relaxed.  He felt suddenly somehow empowered, but he struggled not to lose control.  "Caring enough to build a secret room for torture in his basement?  Gentle enough to beat me, when I was barely able to talk?  Kind enough to abuse me for years?"

She flinched slightly, and Jack Ribsky stepped between them.  "That's plenty."

"Is it?"  Todd said, looking up.

"He's dead, Todd," the man said.  "No use in bringing up the past this way.  He's dead.  His ashes are there, on the mantle.  Connie saw it done."

"I have to make sure you all understand," he said, standing, "that Peter Manning's death is the one thing I want to celebrate right now.  I don't want him near my family.  I don't want him near my mother."

"Your mother?"  Connie asked. "I was certain your mother died when you were young, of cancer."

"Yeah, I thought so, too.  But she's alive, what's left of her."  

Connie's face showed uncertainty and badly hidden shock.  

He continued, "She was left for dead, raped and beaten to the point of coma.  She lost her ability to speak, and was institutionalized for years.  That from your kind, gentle person."

"I want you to leave this house," Connie said.  "He's dead, I saw him burned.  He's gone.  Your slander won't change that."

"Please," he said, toning his voice down again, "Please, I need to be certain."

"You can be certain," Jack Ribsky added.  "She's telling the truth.  My wife and I were there for the aftermath.  He's dead, Todd."

He sighed, and tears were welling in his eyes.  "That's what I came here for.  We just need to move on.  Thank you for your time," he said, heading to the door.

Connie said, "Todd?"

"Yeah," he turned slightly.

"Your mother.  I . . . certainly hope she will recover from whatever happened to her.  But I assure you, it was not my beloved Peter."

"Yeah, well, I'm going," he said, shaking his head.

Jack Ribsky closed the door after him, and Connie, unmoved, lifted her tea.

Outside the door, Todd stopped and took in air, using the rail for support.  He closed his eyes and found himself having to sit down on the step.  Various scenes of his father, Peter, flashed through his mind, and he fought to keep from accepting the blackness.  He realized his breathing was heavy, and decided to wait it out, putting his head between his knees.  

He heard the door reopen behind him, and saw Jack's shoes.  The man sat next to him on the stoop.  "You need help getting to the car?"

"No, I just need a minute."  He rested his head on the railings.  When Todd opened his eyes, he saw the cop looking at him, with genuine concern.  He said, "I'm going, I'm going.  Just have to get it together a minute."

"I'm in no rush."  He paused.  "What did he do to you?"  Ribsky asked.

"Everything," he said, standing.

"I've worked with people for years.  All types.  All kinds of horrors.  Was this recent?  The memories?"

"Yeah.  There's a lot to it, but, I guess you could say recent."

"I'm retired now, from the Chicago Police Department, but I do investigative work.  Seen all kinds of criminals and victims.  You have to let go.  The guy's dead, and it's all right to move on."

Todd turned his face from the man for a moment.  "Yeah, I know.  Just had to be sure."

"Well, you know."  He said.  He looked out to the street where Todd's eyes were fixed.  "You a good father?"

"My wife says so.  My kids do, too.  I love them and her more than my own life."

"Put this behind you, then.  He's gone.  Now, go and be with those kids you talked about."

Todd nodded, words caught in his throat.  He turned and walked to the car, his vision slightly blurred with relief.

He sat in the driver's seat and picked up his phone and dialed.  "Babe?"

"Todd?  You sound . . . are you all right?"

"I'm okay.  I'm coming home.  I . . . I saw her.  He's dead.  He's gone."

She held back tears, "I can't wait to hold you in my arms and tell you it's all right."

"You will, soon," he said, hanging up.

He put his head back and closed his eyes, envisioning teeny Jewel on his chest and slightly over one shoulder, and Blair's head on the other.  Then he lifted his head and started the car.  Pulling away from the curb, he said, "Good bye, you son-of-a-bitch.  It's finally over."

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Failings of the Fathers: 26

Morning came, and Todd had been able to finally fall asleep, but it was well past 3:00 a.m.  It had been close to two when Blair's phone finally disconnected, and up until then, he'd been listening to her in the dark, fighting sleep in avoidance of possible dreams.  None came, and he slept a few hours, uninterrupted.

Sleeping without her seemed to throw him back to times when sleep could never come.  He'd be up, at The Sun office, in the middle of the night, working and expecting others to do the same.  He'd avoided sleep throughout his life, and had learned to go without.  Recently, he'd settled into the comfort of having her near him, and accepting sleep as a more regular part of his life.  Being without her, this night, or any other, brought him back to those times.  He didn't like the feeling.  He didn't like being apart from his family.  Not with the chance that . . .

Momma was so distraught.  She thinks she knows something.  How do we know she's wrong?  Or, how do we know she's not just losing her mind again?

He got up, and showered, and coming out from the steamy bathroom, with a towel around his waist, he saw his phone flashing.  Going to it, he'd missed a call from Blair, and dialed it back.  "Hey."

"Hi.  Morning, Daddy, I sent you a picture of Jewel with her eyes wide open this morning, looking for you."  Blair said.  Her voice is everything to me.  Has been, since . . .  "You there?" she interrupted his thoughts.

"Yep, just getting out of the shower, here, Mommy.  I'll look at the picture when we're off the phone."

"She's so cute, Todd, she's just so alert."

"What's smaller than a peanut?"  he said, contemplating nicknames.

"I don't know, a soybean?"

"Maybe.  She's my little precious gem, though.  A diamond chip."

"I'll agree.  The kids are gone to school already.  I guess you and I fell asleep on the phone."

"You fell asleep on the phone.  I listened to you breathing for a while.  Believe it not, it helped."

"Are you okay?"

"As good as I could be, here.  It's creepy just being in this place."

"I can imagine."  She felt for him, and realized he was struggling with his past and the demons that crept into him when he was away from his family.  "It's just one day, and then you'll be home.  Are you staying the night?"

"Heck no.  I'm talking to the old woman and getting back there."

"I didn't think you'd be staying. I just wanted you to feel like you could, if you had to."

"You know, I don't even remember what Connie looks like much."

"You don't have to.  Just go ahead, be strong, and it will be over soon."

"If I had to be here longer, I'd go crazy here, without you and the kids.  This place is Hell on the planet."

"What time do you plan to go and see her?"

"As soon as I can.  If she's not there, well, I'll wait."

"I suppose you're not calling and announcing yourself?"

"Nah.  Wouldn't want to scare the wicked witch off."

"Be careful.  Just get the facts and then you'll be back with us by dinner, maybe, or at least tonight."

"I will.  I'll call you and let you know what's up."

"I was just going to ask that.  I'd want to know.  Keep in touch."

"I will.  Love you."

"Love you, too."

Hanging up was difficult, and he turned to the messaging program to see the photo.  There was Jewel with her eyes open, and Blair, looking so like she did at the wedding at St. James, with her face lit up with happiness.  A large smile was across her face, watching her daughter.

His phone bleeped.  Another picture.  When he opened it, his three sons were on the screen, each making a crazy face.  Ray had his tongue out, Sam crossed his eyes and put his thumbs in his ears, and Jack put his teeth out, as if bucked, and got hold of Sam's glasses.  He laughed, and texted them back.

I love you all. Take care of your mother, and Jewel.

He tossed the phone onto the bed, and got dressed.

***

Timothy went into the cafeteria, making careful pains not to bring attention to himself, and spotted them.  There, in the corner by the window, were Malcolm and Calvin, already digging in to their dinners.  Fortunately, for Timothy, they had their backs to the entrance, both of them opting to face the view instead of each other.

He got his tray, put together a meal for himself, and went to the table behind them.  He put his tray down quietly, and took his newspaper out, hiding behind it.  It would be the perfect excuse for him to be able to say that he never saw them, if they noticed him.

His plan was to listen to whatever they said, and try and determine if Tina could be right.  There was nothing to say they were not just regular guys, in the clinic for various ailments.  And there was nothing to say that they were not planted there to take out his son, once and for all.  He inserted his eavesdropper into his ear, and sat.

He ate, silently, reading his paper.  He could hear them, clearly.  Nothing about anything of importance. The scenery.  The quality of the food, or lack thereof.  Miguel's plight.  Calvin seemed to have a great deal of trouble with the younger man's sexual orientation.  Malcolm seemed to be melancholy, reminiscing about something from the past, hard to make out.  Something about being a child, in London.  Calvin complaining again.  Not enough salt.  Aiden's name had not yet come up . . .  

Timothy was interrupted by a familiar and rather loud voice, "Can you put that paper down and make room for me?"

It was Tina.

He looked at her, with wide eyes.  Several patrons around them looked in their direction, including Malcolm, who noticed them and waved.  

Timothy put on the best show he could, saying, "Tina, Dear, without my glasses I'm afraid I can't see very far ahead of me.  I was so into my reading.  Accept my apologies."

"I accept," she said, in her sing-song way, and pulled up a chair.  She placed her tray down, and took out her lipstick.  Using it to write on her napkin, she scribbled, and Timothy rolled his eyes.  He read it:  We can listen in on their conversation.  If they're from the Men of 21 . . .

"Ya don't say," he said, picking up his BLT and eating it.

***

Todd put the address into his GPS, and headed off.  It was less than five miles from the motel to Connie Bensonhurst's sister's house.  He stopped, once for gas, that he didn't need, and the second time for coffee, that he ended up throwing out the car door.  Somehow, he was in no hurry to get there, so he drove slowly, going over in his mind the birth of his daughter.  He still got a lump in his throat when he came to the scene where he actually held her in his hand for the first time and saw her cry in the firelight.  He could also see, in his memory, Blair, so tired and looking so beautiful with his daughter on her chest, half lucid from the pain and hard work. 

Let's get this over with, so you can get home to them.  Stop with this scared stuff.

The house was a small Cape Cod, not much different from the others in suburban Chicago.  It was well kept, trimmed with blue shutters against white, with evidence of coiffed shrubbery and neat landscaping.  He parked a short way down the street, and sat in the car.  "She's not going to take very well to seeing you, Manning," he said, catching his own eyes in the mirror.  "Or, is it that you won't take to seeing her?"

He flashed his phone at himself, catching glimpse of the home screen, where Blair's face was pressed against their baby daughter's. He rubbed the display area with his thumb.  "I'm almost done.  With all of this. The old man is dead, and Connie's going to say that same thing.  No sweat."

He got out of the car, and closed the door.  It sounded hollow in the wintry air.  In typical Chicago style, the sky was overcast gray, and the air was damp and chilled.  He put his hands into his front pants pockets, and huddled inside his coat to get warm.  He stood there, looking at the house.  He leaned on the rental car, and just studied the meticulous little home for a while.  

He could accept that he was scared to his bones.

He saw a woman look out, and see him, but he barely caught her face.  It should have prompted him to go to the door, or to leave, but he held back.  He knew what his apprehension was about, and he could face it; he didn't want to find out, somehow, that Peter was alive.  It would change everything.  It would make his children at risk, and his wife.  His mother.  Him.  It can't be.  Just go and get it over with.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, when a man opened the front door, as if to get the morning newspaper.  He looked up at Todd, and said, "Todd?"

"Excuse me, Sir?" Todd said.  In his shock, he stumbled over his words.

"My sister-in-law Connie recognized you.  What exactly do you want?"  The man said.

He thought.  "Peace," he said.

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Failings of the Fathers: 25

"Shaun, you stay in the house with them while I'm gone.  Jack will give up his room, if you want it."

"Not necessary, Todd.  I'll be fine in the family room."

"Just stay with them until I get back.  Once I put this to rest, we can go back to the usual."

"What's this about?"

"I . . . don't want to rehash too much of it, you understand."

"Whatever you say."

"It's about my father."  He offered, having second thoughts.

"Timothy?  He okay?"

"No, not Timothy.  My first adoptive father.  Peter Manning."

The name brought a reaction to Shaun's face much like everyone else's, though he didn't know everything, he knew enough.  "What about him?"

"Checking to be certain the bastard's in the ground."

"You have doubts?"

"I'm not sure.  My mother and Sister Rebecca Katherine and I all have had dreams of him coming to get my kids.  The coincidence was a lot for us, I guess."

"I'd say so.  I get it.  You going to be okay alone?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.  I'm going to see his fiance.  The woman who was going to marry him around the time of his death.  Just to be sure."

"Well, good luck to you with this.  I . . . guess I hope you can put all this behind you."

"Thanks Shaun.  Don't leave them at all, all right?  I'll be back in a day or two.  No big deal, it won't be long," he said, zipping his overnight bag.  He went to the staircase, and looked back.  "Watch out for my mother, she's been under a lot of pressure, she's . . . not doing so good, I guess."  After he said it, he didn't like the way it sounded.

"Will do," Shaun said, going into the family room and setting up camp.

Blair turned when she heard him come into the bedroom.  She went to him and kissed him.  Jewel was on the bed in her basket, sleeping.  He said, "She sleeps a lot."

"Babies do that.  Newborns."

"Okay.  She's all right, right?"

"She's perfect, Todd, thanks to you.  I miss you so much already."

"I won't be gone long.  Just to get this crap taken care of, and then I'll be back."  He leaned in to kiss her again.  He said, "Shaun's moved in.  He'll be here."

"We're all right."

"I know or I wouldn't go."

"Todd?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful, and if you need me, call or text.  I want to be there for you, if it gets bad."

"It won't get bad.  It's not going to be anything rough.  A conversation with this woman, and move on to the rest of living.  Either way."

"I like the sound of that.  When you get back, I will be missing you so much, I'll want to spend some quality time with you," she said kissing the side of his mouth and down his neck.

"Whoa, go slow there.  I gotta drive!"  He joked.  "Gotta concentrate in the copter."

"Okay," she smiled.  "I love you, so much, Todd."

"I love you, too."  He kissed her forehead, and went through the glass doors to the helipad.  She watched him lift off, torn between hope that he would find what he needed and fear for what he might face.

***

Timothy was sitting by Aiden's chair, watching his son sleep.  A few moments later, he watched him stir, and gently sit up.  Timothy moved closer to the bed, and said, "Hey, Son.  Are ya all right?  How do ya feel today?"

"I feel better," he said.  "I'm ready for whatever comes."

"What does that mean?"

"It means they want to increase my therapy and try to use hypnosis.  They believe it might give us answers.  I still am getting the headaches, so the scar tissue is going to have to be removed.  I guess they want to see if by any chance the pains are related to my thoughts and emotions, instead of my injury, Pappy."

"Can it be?"

"It can.  I don't know the answers, but it makes sense.  I saw my mother die, right when I was injured.  It stands to reason that it can be connected to the pains."

"It's true.  I'm hoping whatever it is, it brings ya peace and lets ya move forward."

"Me, too.  I want a life free of this."

"I know ya do.  I can tell that ya have a goal in mind, and that's always good."

"Yes." He said, and at that moment, the door opened, and Malcolm and Calvin made their way into the room.  

Timothy looked up, this time examining the men in a new light, as if for the first time.  He watched carefully as they approached his son.  Calvin, the taller older man, appeared to be disinterested, but followed behind Malcolm, who greeted Aiden with a smile.  "Mate, are you all right?"

"I'm getting there, yes," Aiden responded, and the two shook hands.

Aiden looked up.  "Calvin."

"You're living, that's a good thing."  Calvin said.  

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with the men.  Still, Timothy watched carefully as the exchange continued.  It was nothing more than pleasantries and general talk.  Calvin was true to form, rather callous and reserved; Malcolm was more engaging and pleasant.  Nevertheless, both men peaked Timothy's interest as it was possible, if only that, that they could have been out to harm his son.

Timothy's cell phone rang, and interrupted the banter in the room.  He answered, "Hello?"

"Dad, me, Todd."

"Yes, Son," he said.

"I'm a father, again.  Blair had the baby."

"Eric will want to know, would ya like to talk to him?"

"Yeah, but make sure I get you back on before you hang up."

Aiden took the phone, "Todd, is that ya, Brotha?"

"Yeah, it's me.  Blair had the baby.  She's perfect."

"Ah, congratulations, being a father again, Matey.  Is Blair well?"

"She's fine.  It was close for a while, but . . . well, I'll tell you more about that another time."

"Ah, glad it worked out.  Give me the specs, then."  Todd told him Jewel's weight, and Aiden said, "Oh, a little bit of a thing.  But she's healthy, that is what counts."

Both Malcolm and Calvin seemed unaffected by the phone call, as they sat, waiting for Aiden to get off the call.  That was when Aiden said, "Yes, I'm well.  Trust me.  Well, Pappy, ya better go, here's ya father," and handed it back.

Timothy took the phone back, and walked away, while Aiden said to the men, "My brotha, just had another child.  A girl, this time.  She was premature - but healthy."

"A baby is a good thing, positive energy."  Malcolm said.

Calvin said nothing, and sat with his stoic expression and folded arms.  He made no reaction, just listened.

Timothy had walked to the far side of the room and said, "Yes, Son, what else?"

"I'm in Chicago."

"Why?"

"Decided to come and find out for myself about Peter."

"He's likely dead, Son."

"I know.  I've located Connie, with the help of the lawyer you found for me.  I'm plan to talk to her.  I need confirmation.  Blair does, too, and my mother."

"Ah, yes.  I see."

"You sound distant.  Something up?"

"I have my reasons.  I will talk to ya later about it.  Right now, take care of y'arself and good luck with the  search.  I have a feeling ya will be able to put this all to rest soon, and move forward.  And congratulations, Son."

"Thanks," he said, ending the call.

Timothy looked back toward his other son, and saw him entertaining the two men.  At this point, even Calvin seemed interested in his stories.  He was an animated, friendly character who had a great deal of interesting and entertaining history to share.  Timothy sat and listened as well, chuckling at the right parts of the story.

"And then, the buxom one, she turns to me and says, 'Laddy, ya better put that away before ya catch a cold,' and everyone began to laugh like mentallers."  Aiden said, and looking up, spied Tina at the door.

"Hi, should I come back?" she asked.

"No, no.  We're going.  Come on Calvin.  We're going to make a stop at Miguel's."  Malcolm said.

"Great.  The psych ward."  Calvin added, standing.

"Come on, you crab, we're out of here.  Good bye, all.  Aiden, we will see you later."  The two men exited.

Tina walked to the bed and leaned down, kissing Aiden on the lips.  "Ah, the best medicine.  Pappy, cancel all me appointments and shots."

Timothy smiled, seeing his son happy.  Tina said, "Are you feeling better?"

"I feel better now, ya came into the room, Dear Tina."

"I'm glad to see you, too."  Their hands lingered.

"Tina, ya're an aunt again.  Blair's had the baby.  She's only four pounds, the little smidgen."

"Oh, is she all right?"

"Yes, she's fine.  She's perfect."

"Good, it's about time something went right," Tina said, and sat by Aiden's bed.

***

Todd opened the door to his small motel room, and walked in.  He hadn't gotten anything extravagant; in fact, because he was alone, he chose a moderate venue on the route to Connie's sister's house.  He planned to get to her in the morning, have his talk and go.

He had to admit to himself that he was not excited about seeing her, since she hated him so much all those years back.  Most of the women did.  Any who liked him, or showed him kindness were never brought home again.  

All those women.  Had Peter abused them all?

He put his coat onto the chair, and jumped on to the creaking bed, put his hands under his head, and studied the ceiling.  He missed his baby and his wife, and his boys, so much, it almost surprised him.  He opened his phone, and there was a picture of tiny Jewel, wrapped in pink, with her cheek against Blair's.  He ran his finger over the photo on his phone, and smiled to himself, then remembered where he was and why.  "No one is going to ever hurt you," he said aloud.

Then, he flipped through his photos and took a look at Jack, handsome, smiling and strong, and Sam, with his little glasses, holding his Spelling Bee Certificate.  Next, he thumbed across to a shot of Starr holding Peanut, and his eyes moistened.  He had missed so much of Starr's life, as well as Jack's.  He would make up for that with Jewel.  She'd be Daddy's little girl for real, not half-baked like Starr had been, with him always leaving and coming back and screwing things up.  He did remember all that, as much as he wanted it gone.  Little Ray was in the next picture, playing with his truck and holding it toward the camera.  His mouth was open, and his feet seemed perched to take off at any time, and it made him smile.  He flipped backward to the first photo, of Blair and the baby, and studied it.  She didn't look any different than she did when he first met her, all those years ago, in Rodi's at the bar.  She amazed him.

He missed her.  He opened the phone and dialed.  "Hey, Mommy."

"Todd."  She sounded relieved and very sexy.

"Yep, it's me."

"You made it okay?"

"Yeah.  I'm here in one piece."

"I'm glad."

"I was just looking at this picture of you.  You're so beautiful.  You look just like you did when I first met you."

"I'm so much older, Todd."

"If that's true, I can't see it.  I miss you."

"I miss you."

"Jewel okay?"

"She's fine, she's just resting on me.  She just nursed."

"Lucky her."

She laughed.  "Are you feeling all right?  I mean, any regrets that you went out there?"

"I don't know.  This place is similar to Ireland for me.  When I get here, I sort of feel depressed the first minute.  Drags me down."

"I'm sorry.  I wish I was there with you."

"Well, you're busy.  Our daughter and the kids rate, number one, along with you."

"Be careful.  If something feels off . . ."

"It's not going to be like that.  It's going to be cut and dry.  The bastard is dead, and so are all his threats."

"I like that attitude.  Will you call me, again?"

"When?"

"Every hour."

"I could, if you want me to, or we could just stay on the phone."

"We could.  Let me put the kids down, and then I'll call you back.  Want to watch a movie together?"

"Sure, why not," he smiled, leaning over to look at the television remote.

She said, "I have an idea, you brought your tablet, right?"

"Yeah, sure I did."

"Okay, I'll call you back.  I love you."  She hung up.

He put the phone next to him and closed his eyes.  It would take her some time to get the kids in bed, and be able to call back.  Maybe he could keep her on the phone with him until morning.  Even if he had to listen to her breathe.  He loved her more than anything.

Peter is not alive.  He can't be.  He flashed on the drawing that Bitsy had just done of Peter with the bat, and winced.  He's dead.  He died in front of me, in the hospital, right down the street.  He got up and went to look out the window, and sure enough, the hospital was in view.  He closed his eyes, remembering the last things they had said to each other - how he had been so desperate for Peter's love and approval even then.  I couldn't remember a thing.  I didn't even know the half of what he did . . .  the only thing I wanted was his acceptance.

He went back to the bed, and sat down, and felt very alone.  He turned and lay back on the bed again, and closed his eyes.  

Later, he woke up to a darkened room, and the sound of his cell going off.  He scrambled out of his sleep to get to it, and saw "OTB" on the screen.  He answered, "Hello?"

"Hi."

"Hi, Blair."

"The kids are asleep.  So get the tablet, go online and check your email.  Get that link I sent you.  Click it, and then, we'll watch a movie together."

"How did you figure all this out?"

"Jack.  He has his ways."

He did as she said, and before he knew it, he was in a website chat room with a You Tube video screen, and she had found Evil Dead II.  It was just starting.  He laughed.  "You did all this?"

"Jack.  But I thought of it.  Your favorite."

They watched the movie together over the phone, chatting sometimes, and silent others.  About an hour in, she had fallen asleep.  He could hear her, softly taking in breaths, and kept the phone line open, hoping she wouldn't accidentally disconnect.  When the movie ended, everything was quiet, and he could hear her, again, only clearer, in the soft, rhythmic patterns of sleep.  He listened, turning on his back, and looking to the popcorn ceiling again, with her breathing in his ear.

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Failings of the Fathers: 24

"Sam, this is Jewel," Blair said, holding the tiny baby in her pink blanket.  Sam's eyes widened, and his mouth opened.  

"Wow," he said, in a tone of astonishment.  "She's so little."

"She is little.  We need to be gentle with her."

Little Ray walked over to the bed, and peered up.  "Sam, up!  Want to see.  Want to see."

Todd stepped in.  "Ray, you have to be very gentle with the baby.  She's very small."  He lifted his youngest son up, kneeling him on the bed near Blair.  "See?"

Little Ray looked at Jewel quizzically, and said, "Doll?"

"No, she's a person, like you.  You were small once, too."  Blair said.  "You have to be very nice to the baby."

"Nice.  Nice to the baby.  Baby play?"

"Not yet.  But she will when she grows up more."

Ray clapped happily and laughed.

Sam said, "Can I hold her, Mom?"

She looked at Todd, and he seemed to say "why not" with his expression.  She was only four pounds.  Sam had carried more than that every day to school.  He said, "Have to always support her head with your hand or your arm."

"I can do it, I've seen lots of people hold babies before."  Sam said, taking Jewel into his arm with Todd's help.  "She's so light."  

Ray looked on, with an expression of amazement.  "I hold baby?"

"No honey, you're too little."

"Daddy, down," Ray said.  He had lost interest.

Sam was falling in love with his sister.  He studied her face and talked to her sweetly.  He looked up and said, "I love her, Mom.  She's so pretty."

"She is, isn't she?"  Blair agreed.  Jack was leaning in the door frame.  

"All right, hand her over, Puny.  I guess I have to try.  I just feel all big around her."

"Anyone is," Todd said, realizing that even Ray dwarfed his daughter.

"So, you think I'm still gonna be Puny now that she's around?"  Sam seemed almost sad to lose it.

"Of course, you're the one and only Puny and Runty there is.  She's a girl, she'll have pretty names like Gumdrop."

Blair looked at Todd.  "They're your sons," she joked, sarcastically.

Jack took the baby from Sam.  "Wow.  She's like a feather.  She's so . . . perfect."

Blair smiled, and Todd folded his arms over his chest, watching his sons dote on his daughter.  His family.  Nothing was going to take it apart.

***

"I've been meaning to talk to you," Tina said, standing right outside Aiden's room.  

Timothy approached, his hands in his pockets. "What of it, Dear?"

"Not here, too many ears."  She had a secret mission tone to her voice.  He rolled his eyes as she brought him into a supply closet.

"Dear Lady, you're not propositioning this old man?"

"No, stop!  I want to talk to you, and I'm sick of Larry, Mo and Curly always being around when I try."

"Well, go ahead then.  I want to see my son."

"Those friends of his.  Except for Miguel, who cracked up, supposedly, they are constantly around."

"So?"

"I don't know, I just get a creepy feeling."

"Martina, y'ar really going a bit daft here."

"No, no I'm not.  The other night, when we went to get a snack and they were there.  And then they sat so close that the tall old one hit me with his chair."

"This does not make for a conspiracy, Dear Girl."

"Maybe not.  But remember, Aiden is just not sick.  He was put here, by the Men of 21 and their actions, toward a little boy.  An innocent little boy, who was kept from you for years.  What is to stop the leftovers of them from coming to finish the job?  If he gets his memory back, they will be up for far more than Patrick Thornhart's kidnapping."

He stopped.  Was she right?  Could she be?  Was there any truth to it.  The possibilities. . .
She kept talking.  "What did Todd say?  They brainwashed a little six year old into forgetting? They shot his mother dead.  There are thoughts in there that they want erased.  You know first hand how dastardly they are.  You know."

He didn't respond, but somehow, he found an element of truth in her suspicions.  "Where are they from, then?"

"One is American, the big mean one.  One is English, and the other, he's either Portuguese or Spanish, but American as well."

"The one in the psych ward, eh?  This Miguel?"

"Yeah.  I suppose."

"We'll watch them."

"Then you believe I could be right?"

"I didn't say I believe it, no.  But is it possible?  Anything is, where these men are concerned.  Y'ar brother knows.  They are capable of anything."  His mind went to Todd's explanation about Greece and the reunion of Zeus and his adoptive mother.  They'd farmed them.  To be killers.  As children.  He remembered the dark under Todd's eyes from lack of sleep when he couldn't put down Cholas' journal.  He'd almost lost his mind during that time . . .

"Timothy?  Are you listening?"

"I'm sorry, Dear Tina, I was . . . thinking back.  Ya could be right, I won't rule it out.  We'll tell Todd, he'll pay for extra security for Aiden.  Does that work?"

"Yes, that works.  He'll totally get it, after everything he has been through."

"I don't know why I didn't think of it before.  They could regroup and send someone to end Aiden's life.  That's not a stretch at all, Dear Lady."

***

"Mom, can I keep her in my room?"  Jack said.  "I'll take care of her."

"Well, for a few hours, but then you have to share."

"Sure.  I'll take care of her.  Does she have a bottle?"

Blair looked down the same second Todd pointed to her chest.

Jack said, "I'll bring her back for feeding," and rolled his eyes as he left with Jewel, back in her basket.

Sam followed, "I wanna take care of her, too!"

"Me, too, me!"  Ray said, following.

Todd looked at Blair.  "Well, she's got three protectors.  All sizes."

Blair laughed.  "She does.  Todd, I'm so happy.  Are you?"

For once he did not have to think about it.  "Yeah.  Really happy."  He paused, and put his hand on her head, smoothing her hair. "No one is going to hurt them."

"I know."

"I won't let anyone hurt them."

"I know, Todd."  The room went very quiet.

The silence between them was screaming Peter.  "I'll find out.  If the bastard's alive."

"I know you'll do everything you can for your kids."

"I . . . think I should go to Chicago, Blair."

She didn't balk.  "All right, if that is what you think it will take."

"I . . . have to put this to rest.  If he's out there, wanting my kids, I . . ."

"Shhh," she said softly, "He's probably not, but it's better if we know.  Put it to rest, and then move on with our lives."

He sat down dejectedly, running his hands through his hair.  "You've been saying that since I got back.  It's never right for you, Blair."

"Stop that, all right," she whispered.  "Nothing with you is wrong for me.  Just find out, My Love, and we will do our version of normal, at last."

"Manning Monotony.  I like it."

"Me, too.  Go.  Go to Chicago, we'll be fine."

"Speaking of being fine, think Jack's okay with Jewel?"

"We'll give him three more minutes," she said.

He kissed her.  "I miss you, so much."

"I miss you, so much."

"We'll have to fix that, and soon." He got up from the bed.  

"Where you going?"

"Get the baby from those defenders of justice in there.  Who is going to get their hands on Jewel with them around?  Ray alone could run them to death."

He left and Bitsy poked her head in the door.  She had an expression that read, "Can I come in?"

"Come on in, Momma.  Good morning!"  Blair said.

She waved.  She sat by Blair and handed her a sheet of paper.  There was a drawing of Todd and Blair, right after Jewel's birth.  She said, "Oh, Momma, it's so beautiful."

She then noticed there were several sheets, not just one.  The second sheet had Bitsy's handwriting going down at least half the page.  She read it, aloud:

Blair, I love Todd so much.  I loved him as a baby, too, and I did wrong by him.  I never protected him right.  I should have let Peter kill me before touching him.  But that's in the past, and I can't change it.  

He says he forgives me.  I work on believing.

I just want to say that Peter is out there.  I don't know who else to tell.  I wanted to tell Todd Peter was dead, and I did.  When he had the bad dream, I told him to let go.  Then, I had my dream.  And more of them, almost every night.  Peter is alive.  He wants the babies.  He is evil and dark.  Blair, I don't know what to do other than to tell you.  When I try to tell Todd, he just says the same things.  He says he will kill Peter.  I can't let Todd go to jail and leave his family for what I should have done years ago.  

Please don't let Todd find Peter.  I know Peter is living, but I want him far away from the family.  He cannot be near the children. I have seen what he will do.  He is evil.  He will beat them and hurt them.  Todd will have to kill him to stop him.  He will hurt anyone.

She put the letter down, and turned to the last page.  It was a picture, drawn, of Peter in shadow, holding Todd, it seemed, up by the collar against the wall, with a small baseball bat in his other hand.  She swallowed.  "Momma, is this a dream?"

Bitsy shook her head "no."

"This happened?"

She nodded.

"Oh, I see."  Blair said, blinking back tears.  "Did this happen often?"

She nodded again, and made a motion with her hands as if it were constant.

"This is Todd?"

She nodded.  The little boy's face was shadowed in the picture, but Blair could make out the long hair around his shoulders.  His pajamas were Superman.  Suddenly, Blair got a wave of nausea throughout her body, and cast the papers down, getting up to head for the bathroom.  She splashed cold water on her face.  Bitsy came in after her and made an expression of sorrow.  Blair said, "No, it's all right, Momma.  You can talk to me.  Todd's going to get to the bottom of all of this.  I promise."

Bitsy became upset, and grabbed Blair's arm, shaking her head "no" again.

"Momma, it's okay.  Peter is dead, and if he's not, we will find out.  We'll press legal charges against him for everything he did.  Timothy will help us.  He won't get away with it, and he won't get near our children, that I can promise you."

She was frantic, trying to express herself and searching wildly for her pencil.

Blair took both her hands, "Momma, look at me, please."

Bitsy did, and her eyes were filled with terror and tears.  "Nothing will happen to the children. Peter is dead, and even if he is not, for some reason, he will pay, legally, for what he did.  Trust me, and trust Todd."

She waited a moment, and then nodded in agreement.

"All right, then.  Thank you for the beautiful drawing.  I am sorry you're having so many problems with your dreams."

She nodded, sadly, looking down.

"We'll take you to see Ray, would that help?"

She shook her head "no."

"Why, Momma?"  Blair said, pointing to the pencil that had slipped out of her pocket onto the floor.  She still wasn't feeling up to bending to get it.

Bitsy picked it up and wrote, handing Blair the little notebook.  He does not believe me either.

"Momma, I believe you are having bad dreams. I believe you are very scared about Peter.  But I promise, nothing bad will happen."

I'm sorry, Blair, for upsetting you.  I didn't know who to talk to. You love Todd as much as me, so I tried.

"I know you love him.  And he will be all right, so will all of us."

Bitsy relented, and shook her head in agreement.  She walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom, and directly to the door.  She turned back for a moment, only to wave softly.

Blair sank to the bed grasping the letter and the drawings in her hand again.  She turned back to the one of Peter, shrouded in darkness, and Todd, being abused, and wept.

Todd came back into the room, without Jewel, and said, "She's perfectly okay with the boys. Ray is even being quiet around her . . . Blair?"  He said, as he got closer.  "Babe?"

She'd struggled to get the papers behind her before he saw them, and fell against him crying.  He took her to his chest, and held her, and rested his chin on the top of her head.  "Hey, hey, what's all this?"

She wanted to say something, but she couldn't, and instead just cried.  Over her shoulder, he saw the papers, and on top, the drawing of his past.  He swallowed, and looked to the ceiling before saying, "Momma upset you."

"Oh, Todd," she barely got out.

"Shhh, now, it's okay.  Come on.  We're happy today.   It's Jewel's birthday.  Her zero one.  Why don't we have a little family party before I take off to Chicago?"

She pulled back from him, "Todd . . " she searched his face with her eyes, and attempted to stop crying.  Her heart was breaking with the reminder of his life and experiences staring at her from a white page.

"It's okay, Blair.  I'm okay." He said, softly.

"No, Todd," she said, falling toward him again in sobs. 

"It's over, Babe.  Trust me, it's over."

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Todd's Saga 28: Dorian's Dilemma

        “You bastard!  What did you do to Tony Butler?  Let me guess.  You and this floozy have him tied up somewhere.  Wait until Blair hears what you’ve done this time.  You used him to lure her here, didn’t you?  Well, the surprise is on you.  You got me instead.”  She started to reach into her purse to get her phone but Sam stripped the purse from her. “Give that back this instant!” 

Sam pulled the phone out and handed the purse back. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Vickers, but we can’t let you make any calls right now.”

Dorian looked up and saw two men walk up behind Todd.  “I get it.  Now I’m a hostage too.  You think she’ll come if I’m in trouble, too.”

Todd shook his head, the more Dorian talked the more absurd everything became.  He started laughing.  “Oh, Dorian, you have no idea.”

“Don’t laugh at me, you barbarian.  I demand you show me, Tony Butler.” Dorian angrily stomped her foot. 

        Todd just roared with laughter hysterically.  He couldn’t stop, so he waved a hand down to Sam and managed to speak a few words in between the laughing. “You tell her.”   

        Sam looked at Todd sharply and realized he was at the end of his rope.  He needed to get some sleep but had been pushing through the hours waiting for Dorian to come and hopefully save Victor’s life.  “Mrs. Vickers, please calm down.  No one is holding Tony Butler prisoner.  Todd is Tony Butler.” 

        Dorian swung around to face Sam. “What did you say?”

       “I said, Todd is Tony Butler.  And we’ve been expecting you.  Todd knew you would never come to help him so he called Blair.”

       Dorian was confused.  She looked up the stairs and took a good look at Todd.   He was against the rail and she noted how pale he was.  Even his laughter sounded oddly out of control.  Only one man was standing by him now, the other had gone back down the hallway.  “You’re Tony Butler?”

       Todd found himself leaning heavily on the rail as he got his laughter under control.  He felt drained.  He nodded in answer to Dorian’s question and forced himself away from the banister.  “Dorian, I hate to say this, but I need your help.”

       She was stunned. Dorian had never expected Todd to ask for her help.  “Why?  You don’t look so good but it’s obvious you don’t really need a doctor.  And let’s face it, Todd, you and I have always hated each other.  What’s going on here?” Just then she heard a familiar voice ring out.

       “Todd, Help!”

        Todd turned and rushed down the hallway toward the sound of Viki’s voice.  He rushed into the room.  “Viki, what is it?”

      “He stopped breathing.  Help him!”

       Todd moved to his brother’s side and lowered him flat on the bed. “Come on, you son of a bitch, don’t you wimp out on me! You’re really going to let a little ole bullet do you in?” Todd got no response and didn’t really expect any. “Damn it!”  He started breathing for his brother.

        Dorian and Sam had both hurried up the stairs at Viki’s call.  Dorian stood in the doorway assessing the picture in front of her.  Todd was trying to perform CPR on Victor and Viki was standing anxiously aside. She heard a door open to her right and out walked Clint Buchanan. She felt like she had entered the Twilight Zone.  Todd, Victor, and Clint in the same household, something was definitely going on.  

        Todd obviously was trying to save Victor which surprised Dorian to no end, but it was clear he didn’t have a lot of experience. She moved to the bed. “Todd, go to the other side and pay attention.  Put your hands like this and press down when I tell you.” She tilted Victor’s head and began to breathe into his mouth a number of times then she had Todd do the compressions. After a few minutes, she had Sam take over for her and began checking his pulse.  “Okay, we have a pulse.  It’s very weak, though.”  She took in the bandages and looked up at Todd.  “Well, at least you were smart enough to stop the bleeding. How much did he lose?

      “A lot.  We did everything we could.  He was doing okay until just now.” Todd glanced at Sam and Viki and continued his compressions.  Had he made a mistake?  Should he have gotten a Doctor sooner?  

        Dorian scowled at Todd and continued to monitor Victor’s pulse.  The beat started picking up, Victor coughed and started breathing on his own again.

        “Thank God,” said Viki.

         Clint who had been watching the whole thing walked to Viki’s side. “Viki, how did Victor get shot?  He was fine when I brought up his dinner, and how the hell did Dorian get here?”

          Viki’s eyes met Todd’s and then she turned to Clint.  “It was an accident.  Todd sent for Dorian early this morning.  She very obligingly came to help.”

         Dorian hadn’t missed the look that passed between Todd and Viki.  “More like I was hijacked really?” She mumbled under her breath.  “Okay, you got me here and I’m guessing you don’t want the authorities involved.  Even if I help you, what makes you think I won’t call them when I’m finished, or are you going to kidnap me after all?”

         Todd sank back on his legs.  He was so tired. “Dorian, I’m not going to kidnap you.  You’re right, we can’t bring the police in on this.  This is bigger than you think.  What you decide in the next few minutes will affect not only us here but Blair and the children, too. They’re all in danger if we get found and you can include Tea, Dani, and Natalie to the list too.  Listen, I promise to fill you in on everything, but we need to save Victor first.”

       “Everything?”

       “Everything.  So what do you say?  You and I both know what Victor needs and we can’t exactly take him to an emergency room to do it.”

        Dorian took a deep breath and exhaled.  As a doctor, she took an oath and for some reason, she didn’t understand, she believed Todd when he said Blair and the boys were in danger.  “Alright.  The most important thing now is to get some more blood into Victor.  Todd that means you have to be the donor.  Although since you went to all the trouble to get me down here, I’m sure you already figured that out.  Lie down next to Victor and let’s get this show on the road.”

        A short while later, Dorian stood looking down at the two men.  After initially hooking up Todd to his first bag, she took the trouble to check him out.

        “Hey, I gave you permission to use my blood.  I  didn’t give you permission to examine me.  Leave me alone Dorian.”

        “It looks to me like you do need my examination.  From those bruises on your neck, I’d say Victor throttled you pretty good.  Did you lose consciousness?”

        “Yeah, just for a short time but I’m fine.  The neck is sore, that’s all, so leave me alone.”  Todd closed his eyes, cutting the conversation and inwardly praying that was the end of it.

        Dorian let the matter drop and waited for the first bag to fill.   She was still trying to digest everything that had occurred since her arrival.  All this time, she had thought Todd Manning was finally and irrevocably out of Blair’s life and it turned out nothing could be farther from the truth.  Why all the need for subterfuge?  Why had Todd left in the first place and then re-established himself as Tony Butler? She glanced over to the corner of the room where Viki and Clint had ended up.  “I’ve got some questions and I might as well get some answers while we wait.  How long have you known, Viki?”

       “How long have I known what, Dorian?” Viki asked.

        “You know what.  How long have you known that Todd wasn’t dead?  Why did you keep it a secret?  Just what is going on?  Clint is supposed to be in the hospital.  What’s he doing here and where the hell did Victor come from?”

        Viki sighed.  “I’ve known about Todd for a couple of months.  And I came here yesterday when I found out Todd had rescued Clint.”

        “What do you mean rescue?  I thought Clint was in the hospital because of his breakdown on the night of the Man of the Year award.”

        Clint got up and moved toward Dorian.  “I’m not unstable, Dorian.  That she-devil Alison Perkins shot me up with something and took me out of Llanview hospital shortly after that.  Manning found me a couple of days ago and got me out of the place where they’ve been holding me.   We had to bring Victor with us because he caught us leaving and he was working for the ones who held me.”  He rolled up his sleeve.  “Look, they kept me drugged and messed with me.  But I’m not crazy.”

        Dorian’s eyes widened and she took another look at Clint.  His arm was tracked with needle marks, but he seemed perfectly aware of what was happening around him.  Still, her trained eyes saw the perspiration beading on his forehead and the slight nervous tick around his one eye..  If he was telling the truth.  He was far from over the effects of whatever they had drugged him with.  “Could you tell me who shot Victor?”

        “I don’t know….” Clint paused and swayed a little bit. Viki rushed to him. “I… I heard scuffling and voices in the hall. Viki was pleading with Victor, then there was quiet.  When I looked out of my room, Victor had his back to me and was talking on the phone to Tea.  Viki was on the floor next to Todd who wasn’t moving.  I went and grabbed the gun we had taken off of Victor and snuck up quietly behind him.  When he saw Todd begin to move, he decided to try and make his escape and I stopped him.  I was holding the gun on him and suddenly I was hearing him tell me he was going to take me back to the compound,... words kept reverberating in my head…’the organization must be protected at all cost’...I...I...Oh, God.  I pulled the trigger...I...” he turned to Viki.  “I did this, didn’t I?

         Viki had tears in her eyes.  “It wasn’t your fault.  He had been manipulating you all day.  You weren’t in your right mind.  But he’s alive.  Dorian’s here and we’re going to save him.  I think you and I will go find Sam Vance.  Maybe you can try and remember some more about the compound that will help Sam with her investigation.  Dorian, the rest of your questions will have to wait.” Viki didn’t even give Dorian a chance to say anything else.  Instead, she took Clint’s arm and herded him out the door and away from Dorian.

          Todd had been listening to everything and he started to chuckle.  Viki sure knew how to stop Dorian cold when she wanted to.  “Did you hear what you expected Dorian? I’m guessing not.  You thought I shot Victor again didn’t you?”  He lowered his arm and found Dorian glaring angrily at him.  “Take a good look at my brother.”

         Todd’s words jolted her and her eyes immediately went to Victor’s chest. What was Todd getting at? She had already checked the gunshot wounds.  Sam Vance and Todd had done a fair job of sewing Victor up.  She looked at Victor and suddenly realized something wasn’t right. Where was it?  Where was the gunshot scar from Todd?  Blair told her Victor had been shot in the heart, but there was nothing.  She looked back at Todd.  “But you shot him.  You were on trial for his murder.  I don’t understand.”

         “Join the club.  I knew I didn’t kill him but I was having hallucinations of my mother and with them came images of shooting Victor.  I can’t explain.  I think Irene tampered with my memory when we were in jail together.  It’s the only explanation I’ve got.  The organization that spirited Victor away obviously staged a very realistic scene.  So realistic, Tea thought Victor died in her arms.”

         “So you didn’t try and kill your brother, but I know you, Todd.  I know what you’re capable of.  You’ve always been violent. That’s why I’ve wanted Blair to stay away from you.”

          “That was the old me.  Irene did a number on me.  I admit that, and yes, I did have Tomas kidnapped.  But, I wasn’t thinking straight and I was desperate to get Blair back.  You just can’t stand the idea that Blair is still in love with me and that she tricked you into coming here.  I’ll be honest, she was reluctant to trick you.  She loves you but I assured her I would tell you the whole story and I will.  Dorian, you have no idea what’s been going on since I arrived back in Llanview.”

          Dorian hated the idea that Todd had gotten back into Blair’s life, but she also knew how happy Blair was about the baby she was carrying.  “I swear Todd Manning, if you think you can spin some lie and expect me to just let you keep up this charade, you’ve got another think coming.  You ran out on Blair again.  I can’t understand how you got her to accept Tony Butler and why is all of this subterfuge so necessary?  Explain it, then we’ll see if I keep your secret.” she paused, checked the exchange of blood going into Victor, and glanced back to Todd. 

         Todd sighed. “Very well, but listen up because I’m too tired to tell this story twice.”   

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Failings of the Fathers: 23

It was almost dawn when Blair woke, and Todd was next to her, cradling the tiny infant in his arms.  "I can't stop looking at her," were the first words he said to Blair as she opened her eyes.

"She's so pretty," Blair said.

"Yep."

"She didn't cry, wasn't she hungry?"

"She ate."

"When?"

"When she was first born, you know that.  And during the night, she just made a few sounds of being annoyed, and I put her on your chest and the rest is history."

"I must have been half asleep."

"Yep."

"Where are the boys?"

"Sam's at Shaun's.  We have a little bit of work to do there.  Jack said he was frantic and terrified while you were in labor.  Good thing our son had the sense to get him out of the house."

"All right.  Will you go and get him soon?"

"Yep.  When it's light out, I'll do just that."

"Let me hold her, Todd."

"Of course," he said, and moved the petite little girl to her mother's arms.

"She looks like you."

"No, she doesn't.  She's beautiful.  Definitely you."

"Her hair is light.  Reminds me of Jack."

"Yep."

"She's so sweet, Todd.  But she's so small," her voice cracked.

"She's small, but she's strong and perfect.  You said so yourself."

"She can breathe, and she's all right."

"Yeah, she can and she is."

"You saved her, Todd, both of us."

"Ah, it was nothing.  Dorian is a good talker."

"She's so light.  But look, she has . . ."

"All her fingers and toes.  I counted.  She can hear us, I can tell.  She's alert.  She's breathing.  She's a perfect little person, just 'puny,' like Jack said."

"Jack saw her?"

"He was in here, when you were in and out."

"It's perfect in here." she looked around. "You cleaned all of it up?"

"Sure.  You didn't want us to be sitting in some bloody mess when the EMTs came.  Not a pretty picture of The Mannings."

"How do you do it, Todd?  How can you be this strong after . . . well, everything?"

"Pretty sure the eight years of torture set me straight.  Plus, I have a lot to lose."

Jack was at the door, "Mom, Dad, Runty's on the phone crying.  He wants to come home."  Then, "Is she awake?  Can I see her?"

Blair lifted her off her chest, and held her up to Jack.  Jewel was sleeping, and he looked into her tiny face and said, "Wow, you can be that small and be a person?"

"I guess so, she's living proof.  Want to hold her?"  Blair asked.

Jack looked confused, "Uh, can I skip it?  She's so small, I'm kinda scared.  Let me go get Sam, and maybe later."

Blair smiled, and looked at Todd.  "She's tough.  When you get back, we'll formally introduce you to her.  Thank you, Jack."

Jack left, and Todd looked at Blair.  His face was so filled with emotion, she said, "Todd," softly, "what's the matter?"

"This is my family," he said, quietly himself, with a touch of quaver in his voice.

"Yes, this is.  The family you helped make, Todd.  Nobody just gave it to you."

He put his hand over the top of his daughter's head, and realized it fit inside his palm and then some.  "I'm . . . going to forget everything.  Peter, he's nothing, he's just a memory now."

She looked at him in slight surprise.  "Okay.  That's good."

"No more wasted time on him, or the likes of him."

"I thought you were already done with it," she said, innocently looking at him.

"I . . .am.  Especially now that she's here.  There's too much good to mar it with bad."  He paused.  "Her face, Blair."

"I know.  You love your children, so much.  Everyone sees it."

"She's beautiful."  He got up, and wiping his eye with the back of his hand, went to the window.  "The snow, it's overwhelming.  Wow.  There's so much of it."

"It's pretty.  Really.  So white."

"Okay, so I meant it.  No more Peter.  He's behind us."

"All right, it sounds good.  But there's something you aren't telling me, isn't there?  I think after all this time, I know."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?  You can't even give me an answer?  I'm . . .insulted, and tired of it, Todd.  Just . . . leave me alone, will you, a while?"

He turned, surprised.  "What?"

"You heard me.  Just get out . . . just, please."

He wasn't able to think of something to say, so he walked toward the bedroom door.  "Why?" he said, turning back.

"You don't know why?  Then I have nothing to say."

He stopped and turned around.  "I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh, no?"

"No.  I'm not.  This is . . . one of the happiest days of my life.  I'm not . . .going to leave you alone.  Or leave my little girl."

"So, I have no say in the matter, then.  I see."

"What's with you, Blair?"  He was puzzled.

"You promised, that's what!" she raised her voice startling Jewel, who woke with a cry.  She calmed her, placed her in her basket and then looked away from him.

He went to the bed, and sat near the baby.  "Jewel, your mom is upset with me.  And she probably is right . . . all the time."

She didn't turn, but he could sense her armor cracking.  

I love him so much.

He continued, "So, uh, can you tell her something for me?  Tell her I'm sorry that I didn't tell her something and that I'll tell her now if she will listen.  Jewel?  What?  You want me to be like Grandma Bitsy and be quiet so you can sleep?"

Blair slightly laughed.

He saw her shoulders move, and relaxed a little.  "Jewel, I know you can't talk or write.  I'll have to tell her myself, then, right after I remind her how much I love her for bringing you to me."

She didn't turn.

"Oh and one more thing: if she will listen, I'd tell her that my fears about my father . . . they made me keep something from her.  My fear that my father would come and take all of you from me, as if he were alive.  It made me start thinking bad things and having bad feelings.  I didn't want to scare her, because she had you inside her.  So I kept it to myself.  Mostly.  I talked to my new father about it.  He tried to support me.  But he wanted me to tell her, at first, and then he agreed.  We were too worried that she might lose you.  And if she lost you, that would mean I did, too, and I couldn't live without you both . . ."

"This is why you didn't tell me?"  Blair said.  "Honestly?"

"Yeah.  I was just afraid to scare you."

"How could it scare me?  I was with you in that hell hole, remember?  If I could get through that . . ."

"Because I thought he might be alive. . .I said I didn't, but I thought he could be.  And all I could think of was killing him.  A slow, painful way."

She turned to him, and studying his face, she picked up the phone and called Jack.  "Come and get your sister for me, and bring her to Grandma Bitsy for a while, I'm sort of tired.  Thanks."

Okay, Manning, when you tell the truth, you should be more careful to not tell it so truthfully in the future. . .

Jack came into the room, and looked at both his parents.  He said, "Geesh, you guys, it's the baby's birthday," and took her out with him.

Blair's arms were folded.  "Before you start thinking that you shouldn't have told me the truth, just stop right there.  I can handle anything.  But, maybe, just maybe I understand why you didn't tell me this while I was pregnant.  Were you planning to tell me at all?"

"I thought about it.  I mean, the baby was just born.  It was tough bringing her into the world.  I wasn't quite thinking that second to bring up my child-rapist father."

She felt hollow.  "Todd, I . . . just tell me."

He got up and went to sit next to her, both of them facing the glass wall.  The snow was white and blinding with the sun on it.  She faced him, and he her, bringing their eyes to each others.'  He said, "It's bright.  I'll fix that."

He got up, and closed the draperies, so that the glare was eliminated.  Then, he sat back down across from her and said, "Okay.  I was afraid that he was alive.  I didn't want to tell you because I wanted to murder him."

"You're talking in the past.  So, you don't think he's alive now?"

"I don't care anymore.  My daughter, she . . . she's so beautiful.  You, the kids, that's all that matters.  He's dead."

"You wanted to murder him.  Not anymore?"

He gulped.  "I still do.  Yeah.  If he came in here now, I'd want to kill him.  Some terrible way.  Some way that would make him hurt, like my mother did."

She swallowed, and touched his face.  "You're still so angry, Todd.  I understand why.  I know what he did and what it meant."

"I want to let go of it, Blair.  All of it.  It's eating me up inside.  I was planning . . . I'd contacted Mr. Adams, my father's estate lawyer.  He was going to put me in touch with my father's last fiance.  I wanted to ask her, once and for all, if he were really dead.  She'd cremated him without me knowing, she was the only beneficiary.  You were there for that, Blair.  You know, I only got that key."

"I know.  I remember."

"Anyway, I was going to check into it.  It was because . . . well, Momma had that dream about him coming to take our children.  The night she had the panic attack.  And then, well, something else happened."

Her face twisted with doubt.  "Sister Rebecca Katherine.  I just realized it.  You lied to me."

"I did, because I didn't want to scare you, Blair.  Give me a break.  I've seen you lose three children, and I'll be damned if you were going to lose another because of something I told you."

She considered it.  "All right, fine.  Tell me now, Todd.  Jewel's here."

"She had a dream, too.  The same type.  She dreamed he wanted our kids.  I got freaked, I guess.  I called Timothy, he helped me find Adams.  I searched, found Connie's info.  I meant to call her, when the baby came."

"Okay."  She seemed angry.

"So, leave you alone now?"

"No."

"What, then?"

"Don't lie to me, Todd.  We've had enough of that.  We're pretty sure I won't be having another baby, so there won't be another reason."

"I know.  I won't."

"We just don't see this the same."

"Why?"

"I want you to find Connie.  I want you to make sure that fucker is dead."

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