Wella was always all smiles on Monday mornings, most of the staff only found it mildly annoying. “Good morning everyone.”
She ignored the groans and the half-hearted replies and barreled ahead with energy. “Right off the bat, I’d like you to meet our two new interns. This is Sparky Jarvis, she comes to us with a background in journalism.”
Sparky grinned from ear to ear and waved, matching Wella’s energy and enthusiasm ounce by nauseating ounce. “Hi, ya’ll. I’m so excited to be here.”
Daryn leaned over and whispered in Sean’s ear. “One more ya’ll and the cheerleader dies.”
“And this is Clark Yancy.” Wella pointed to the ‘incognito’ Yancy Barrow, who slurped his coffee and tried to hold his eyes open. “Clark is starting over with us…”
“Where did he end?” Someone asked.
“Downsizing…” Yancy mumbled. “Have a degree in broadcasting I thought I’d never use. It’s finally coming in handy.”
“I have a degree in animal husbandry.” Sean snarked. “You’ll fit right in.”
Wella picked up a donut and leaned against a desk. “They’ll be shifting around to a few departments until we find the right place for them. For today, they’re a member of our team. First on the agenda, Ian is concerned about “The Best of Everything”. The ratings are up, but he wants us to take a good look and see if there may be some suggestions we can come up with to sustain the ratings.”
“The ratings are up, but the quality just isn’t what it used to be.” Sean popped up.
“Exactly. Now, how to we improve that quality?”
“Isn’t the show runner retiring? Won’t that help?” Daryn asked.
“That’s on our to do list, find a new show runner, so we need to have in our heads exactly where we think improvements can be made and find the person who can best implement them.”
“May I say something?” Sparky asked.
“Of course, everybody has equal input here.” Wella assured her.
“The main problem in the writing. Believe me, I have watched that show since I was little, and everyday, like it or not, for the last three years. There’s a huge difference.”
“And that would be?” Wella smiled as Sean encouraged her.
“Well, daytime has come full circle.” She smiled. “It started out about emotion and relationships, then in the seventies went to big plot driven expensive stories and now has come back to smaller, intimate tales driven by heart.”
“It’s the only way for them to survive.” Daryn concluded.
“Absolutely.” Wella agreed.
Yancy looked up from his coffee. “So your saying the writer’s now aren’t good at telling smaller stories.”
Sparky scrunched up her face. “Not exactly. They’re very good writers, I mean character is there, great dialogue and plot but I don’t think the writer’s like what they’re writing. It’s almost as if they hate the characters and the sweet little town.”
The team all looked at each other and began to talk among themselves. “Did I say something wrong?” Sparky got nervous.
“Oh no, honey.” Wella patted her on the shoulder. “You said something right. We’ve been knocking our heads together trying to figure out exactly why the show just wasn’t quite gelling together and you walked right in and put your finger on it.”
Sean turned to Yancy. “Have you seen the show?”
Yancy shrugged. “Couple of times, have to admit soap opera really isn’t my cup of tea, but that one I don’t hate.”
“Why?” Daryn encouraged.
The question at first threw Yancy, but he took a sip of coffee and thought about it. “Well, I think I don’t hate it because its the story my mother watched when I was a kid. We had to be quiet for the half hour it was on, so I guess it stirs memories of my mother and simpler times.”
“Have you watched it lately?” Wella asked.
He nodded, sipped his coffee again and pointed a finger at Sparky. “She’s right. The characters have been written into a corner and it’s as if the writers don’t really care to find a way out. Take a good look at the staff, starting at the top and work your way down. Somewhere there’s a person or two that are either very unhappy or bored out of their skulls. Change that, change the quality.”
Wella nodded. “Okay, Sean you take a look at the tenure of the production staff from execs to dialogue writers. Let’s see what that information yields.”
“There may be one or two from Baxter Reilly days, he was actually the godfather to the out of left field plotlines that changed things in the seventies. There may either some bad blood or lack of quite understanding how the genre has evolved.” Daryn told Sean and he began making notes.
“Daryn you start looking at possibilities when it comes to replacements we might need, show runners being a definite.”
“Are we looking for someone from daytime or new blood?” She asked.
“Either.” Wella nodded. “For show runner, we definitely need the experience, but we also need someone who understands our vision, a traditional soap with modern heart that moves at today’s pace.”
“They still do those things in thirteen week cycles?” Yancy asked.
“Contracts yes.” Wella smiled. “Story wise we are still playing with that. Trying to cut back on flashbacks that make it easy to skip a few days or weeks and still know what’s going on.”
“It still should be important that you can join in at anytime and not be lost though.” Sparky jumped back in. “That’s the problem with some of the cult prime time stuff. They’re good, but unless you’ve watched from moment on, you are either completely lost or miss all the rich texture.”
“Exactly.” Daryn smiled. “Can she work with me today?”
Wella nodded. “Yep and Yancy you’re with Sean.”
Sparky took an effervescent hop to a seat next to Daryn. Yancy wadded up his cup and grunted as he neared Sean, who looked up and asked. “Aren’t you a little old to be an intern?”
Yancy looked at him. “Aren’t you a little short to be getting on my bad side?”
“Now on to the next item on our agenda…” Wella moved things right along.
“Young Justyn?” David Turner poked his head in the office door. “May I come in?”
Ian whirled the chair around to face him, instead of the window view he’d been staring out of for hours. “Of course, you never have to ask.”
The old man entered and shut the door behind him before quietly taking a seat.
“Uh oh.” Ian sighed. “Am I going to like this?”
“I like the tie.” Turner pointed.
“Father’s Day gift.” Ian tried to put on a bright smile and pointed at Turner’s. “Yours is nice, but not as nice as mine.”
David Turner opened his jacket and held it up, proudly announcing ‘Pappy Turner’. “The first Father’s Day gift I ever received. Your boy is a piece of heaven, Ian.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” Ian said. “So to what pleasure do I owe this visit?” He blinked a little. “Did that even come out right?”
“I just thought I’d come down and show off m’tie.” Turner smiled and sat back in the chair. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?” Ian feigned. “I’m not in the papers again, am I?”
“Always.” Turner smiled. “Our soaps are three and four, up from last and nowhere two weeks ago. Amanda Jackson just gave her first interview on Anderson Cooper and spoke about nothing but you and apparently two Twitter accounts have been closed down because they were falsely pretending to be you.”
“Oh, well…that’s good. I think.”
Turner pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Let’s get comfortable.”
Ian hobbled to the French doors of the balcony and opened them, as Turner lit two Marlboros and placed an ashtray on the Redwood and crystal coffee table. “May we have some tea?”
Silence filled the room as Ian poured two mugs full of bottled water and placed them in the microwave. Pushing the buttons killed the silence. Turner handed Ian a smoke, which he immediately took a deep drag of.
“That is so good.” Ian sighed as he let out a stream of smoke toward the open doors.
“I’m sorry I missed yesterday.” Turner flicked an ash.
Ian swallowed a chuckle and watched the time change on the microwave. There was another 90 seconds of silence before the timer dinged. Two steaming mugs were supplied with Earl Grey. Turner added cream to his; Ian, sugar, lots and lots of sugar.
“Mr. Turner…Dave, I have a problem.”
“I know.” David Turner sipped his tea.
“Are there rumors already?”
“No, I haven’t heard a thing, other than the unusual pall hovering inside this office.” He placed his mug on the table and reached for his cigarette. “Ian, I’ve seen you three times already this morning and you’ve barely even registered the walls. That’s unlike you.”
Ian nodded as Turner continued. “I’ve seen you when there were things going on in your personal life that would have made me curl up in a ball in the corner and suck my thumb, but you’ve always been full speed ahead in the office, no matter what. Let’s talk about it.”
“Where do I begin?”
“The beginning?”
“Jeez…” Ian huffed. “I was born in October of 19…”
“Not your beginning…” Turner chuckled.
“Sometimes I think that’s where it starts.” Ian slurped his tea and then took another much needed drag off his smoke. “Yesterday. My first real Father’s Day and I will never forget it.”
“As it should be.”
Ian gave Turner a look. “Then why do I never want to celebrate another one? Don’t get me wrong. Ronnie made me the best tie in the world, and painted this wonderful canvas I’m going to have framed and hang here in the office. We had a big meal with all the family and suddenly just when I was reveling in pure joy…”
“The bottom fell out…”
“Hell, Dave, the bottom not only fell out, God scooped it up put it in a blender added what was left of my psyche, hit the puree button and left the lid off.”
“What happened?”
Ian put his hands to his mouth and blew air out his nose. “How do I put this? I received two unexpected gifts, one right after another. One hit me in the head and before the little birdies stopped tweeting and the stars spinning, another drop kick got me between the eyes.” He looked at his mentor. “I’m just not sure what to do.”
“Just relax, my boy. You’ve got family all around you…”
“That’s just it, David; gift number one I really do have family all around me. We kind of discovered by accident at dinner yesterday that Colton Shores is my father.”
“What?” Turner couldn’t hide the surprise.
“I’m not really sure of everything…like that’s unusual, but to make a long very complicated story a sound bite, my mother was Colton’s first wife.”
David Turner put up his hand. “Let me just make sure I have my own facts straight. You are talking about the little girl who broke his heart before he left Texas?”
“That would be the one.” Ian grabbed for his tea. “I knew he’d been married before. I knew it had been annulled. He knew the basics of my story and a picture is worth a thousand words.”
“You’re positive?”
“We’re having a DNA test run this week just to be sure, but his name is filled in where the father’s name is on my birth certificate.”
“I thought you didn’t know where your real birth certificate was.”
“That’s kind of Part B to gift one.” Ian sighed. “After that cat came screaming out of the bag, we barely had time to clear the air of fur when the valkyrie marched in from the marsh and split the wine glasses with ‘Fie’!”
“You do have a way with words.”
Ian looked at David Turner. “Clare showed up, seven months pregnant. The baby’s mine.”
Turner was caught in mid exhale. “Are you positive?”
“Clare is a lot of things, but I don’t believe she ever cheated, and the timing is right.” Ian looked at the floor and back to Turner. “But as soon as I get the number, I’m keeping the DNA people on speed dial.”
They were quiet for a moment. The old man crushed out his smoke and asked quietly, “Plans?”
“I thought I’d just sit here for ten or twelve years until some solution hits me or I have to use the bathroom.”
“Suggestions from an old man?”
“Right now, Dave, I’d take suggestions from the Muppets.”
“First, get Ronnie to show you how to program the speed dial, it may come in handy.” Turner was pleased he got a small smile out of him. “Do you love her?”
“No.” Ian looked deep inside for a moment. “I keep trying to think. I’m sure at one time I thought I did, but no. Do I care about her? Yes, but in love with her? I’m sorry. I truly wish I could say yes, but I can’t.”
“Why were you with her for so long? Eight years was it?”
Ian nodded his head, to indicate affirmative and partly just to see if his brain was still in there. “Give or take the months we’d break up not see each other once or twice annually and end right back where we started just to break up not see each other and end up right back where we started.”
“Why, then?” David Turner looked at him. “I’m playing the Devil’s Advocate here.”
The man understood, but he struggled to answer the question. “It was nice.”
“Nice?” Turner sat back on the couch. “That’s a reason to stay with a woman for eight years, because it was nice?”
“Compared to what I’d known before…” Ian made sure he was being honest. “Yes, yes it was a reason.”
“Young Justyn…Ian…” Turner lit another cigarette, offering one to Ian. “I’ve not asked much about your past. We’ve had an unwritten agreement on that, I know much of it…hurts.”
Ian turned to Turner. “Absolutely, but I have been determined that the future not be. It seems my entire life I’ve been either somebody’s victim or somebody’s whipping boy. I don’t know why, and I’m not even sure I care. Maybe I should, but I just want it to stop. I will make it stop, that legacy of pain will not haunt my son.” He corrected himself. “My children.”
“You’re going to have to make things just a little clearer, Ian.” Turner leaned on his cane to face him. “You say you were with Clare because it was nice. The constant breaking up and getting back together doesn’t sound nice to me.”
“It wasn’t.” He admitted. “But Clare was the first person that ever fought tooth and nail to keep me around.”
“Why, Ian? Why did she do that?”
The question had never occurred to him. “I don’t know.”
“Ian, I know what it’s like to be involved in a volatile relationship. I know what it’s like to be involved with a volatile woman.” Turner said, surprised he said it out loud. “Oh, I hated her guts but I did love her, even the things made us both raving lunatics. Although as time went on it was clear my adoration wasn’t enough.”
“That’s why you never looked for her?” Ian asked.
“Who says I didn’t look for her?” Turner said. “And who says I ever stopped? Ian, every time the phone rings, every time someone walks through the door unexpectedly there is still an extra beat in my chest convinced it could be her.”
David Turner reached over and put his hand on the troubled man’s shoulder. “Let me ask you a few more questions and then I’m going to leave you to ponder how you answered them.”
Ian nodded his head and looked at his own hands folded in his lap. “What about Saxon Allen?”
“She’s not involved in this.” Ian said.
“Really?” David Turner said quietly, but directly. “Now what about Colton, his family how do you feel? Happy? Angry? Hurt? Confused?”
“All but the third one, especially the last.” Ian blinked and sighed. “Whenever I get an answer to a long prayed for question, I get little resolution and lots more riddles, questions and tears.”
“The answer there seems pretty clear.”
“It is. Colton Shores is my father. For some reason I’m not doubting that either, but it’s all like one of those bizarre party games. Let’s see how many questions we can answer Ian Justyn with in more questions.”
“What questions?”
He turned to his mentor. “Doesn’t the series of circumstance all seem a little odd to you?”
“Odd?”
“I break up with my longtime girlfriend, and in trying to avoid having contact with a four year old so I wouldn’t be reminded of the son I gave away I have a conversation on the phone I wouldn’t have answered otherwise. That phone call leads me to a new job and a new life, where I just happen to buy a house next door to a man who turns out to be my biological father?”
“Well, when you put it that way.”
“It’s a series of accidents, but why did every little accident just happen to fall in the correct sequence to make me choose door number three?”
David Turner nodded his head. “I understand. The timing is so right it has to be wrong. That leads to my next question. What are you going to do about Clare and the baby?”
Ian took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m not sure.”
“Maybe I should have asked what does she want?”
“Ahhh!” Ian nodded his head. “Either I marry her or she goes public and then makes sure I never see my child.”
“Has she asked for money?” David clarified. “I mean is it possible that enough cash would make the problem go away?”
“I think she’s under the impression that being Mrs. Ian Justyn, wife and mother will not only pay, but keep the paychecks rolling in.”
“Ian, I want you to take a little time to think about that situation in particular. Personally, I think that’s the more obvious case of the timing being so right it’s wrong. If you come to the same conclusion, I think you’ll see how easy that solution is.”
“How can that be easy, David?”
“Oh, Young Justyn.” David pushed himself off the couch, stopping long enough to drop the Marlboro Light pack on the expensive coffee table. “If that is the case, you are the one in total control. Don’t let her make you think anything different.”
There was a timid knock at the door. Tippy Shores put her book down and made her way to the back of the house. She was surprised at the visitor.
“Jude? Why are you knocking? Just throw the door open and come in.”
“I wasn’t sure if I was welcome er not.” He said quietly.
“Of course, honey, you shouldn’t ever doubt that.” She smiled genuinely and the man’s tired face seemed to be relieved. “I’m about to have a piece of cheesecake and some tea. You wanna join me?”
“I’d love it.” He smiled and followed her to the little table in the corner. “How’s ever body doin’ over here?”
Tippy pulled the cups down from the cabinet and began to fill two tea balls. “I’m not sure if we’re still in shock or just bracing for the next impact. How about next door?”
Jude sighed. “We thank the Lord fer Valium.” Smiling as he looked at the generous sliced confection Tippy placed in front of him. “An’ I have ta be honest, Ripley and I doubled Ian’s tranquilizers last night. He didn’t even put up a fight. If I could have, I’d a figured outta way to shovel some down that woman’s throat, too.”
Pouring steamy water from the kettle into the mugs Tippy smiled gently and reminded him. “Good thought Jude but we need to be respectful…of the baby.”
He nodded as she placed one mug in front of him and took the seat across from him. “I ain’t had a chance to talk with Jesse. Is he doin’ okay?”
“I think so. I knew something was on his mind, but I never dreamed…I think he’s relieved.”
“And Colton?”
Tippy smiled and stirred her tea. “Jude, obviously there were a lot of conversations, a lot of questions and a lot of tears interrupted by the attack of the Pregnant Monster, but I don’t think anything has really changed for us. The incident just made everything legal for lack of a better term.”
“I didn’t know.” Jude blurted out. “I swear I had no earthly idea. If I did I’d a pulled someone off to the side and said, hell I don’t know…”
“What can you say Jude?” Tippy looked at him. “There is absolutely no one to blame here. How about Ian? Has he had a chance to talk with you or anyone about that bit of the news?”
“Tippy, that Clare woman basically hasn’t given the man a chance to wipe his behind. We thought it would quiet’en down a little when Ian ran screamin’ off to work this mornin’, but she’s still there squallin’, makin’ demands and threatenin’ everything from Ripley to the wall paper.”
“This is not what Ian needs right now. He’s still recovering.”
Jude nodded his head. “What kin we do? We’re all tryin’ to ignore her, but that just seems to make it worse.”
A little bling sound went off. “Hold that thought, Jude.” Tippy smiled when she looked at her phone. She winked at him as she pushed the button. “Hey, Baby Doll…uh huh…you’re gonna what…uh uh…sure honey…oooh that’s a good idea…are you sure…okay…love ya, Baby Doll.”
Tippy hit the end button and lay the phone down on the table. “Okay, here’s the plan…”
Vonnie put her hands on her hips and waltzed right up. “Hey, you! You got a baby in there?” She pointed to Clare’s belly.
“What are you doing in my house?” She looked at the little girl.
“Not your house.” Vonnie said.
“Yes it is.”
The little girl whipped her long blonde hair off her shoulders. “I don’t argue with people who don’t know what they talkin’ about.” She headed past her.
“Excuse me, where are you going?” Clare demanded.
“Potty.”
“Go back wherever you came from and use your own.”
“Nope.” Vonnie continued her course. “Usin’ this one.”
“You!” Clare pushed herself off the couch. “Come back here.”
“There you are.” Tippy appeared.
Clare whipped her head around to face her. “Doesn’t anyone have any respect for privacy around here?”
“Clare, I’ve been looking for you.” Tippy ignored the insult.
“Key, please.” Clare held out her hand. When Tippy didn’t respond, she demanded. “Now!”
“What key?”
“Your key to this house.”
“Honey, I don’t have a key.”
“I know I left no doors unlocked.” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
“I have a code. I just punch it in and voila.” Tippy crossed her arms and smiled. “Do you have a code?”
Clare’s face fell. “That will change. I’ll be making a lot of changes around here.”
“No you won’t.” Tippy smiled. “Have a seat Clare, before we start dinner you and I are gonna have a chat.”
“I don’t think so, and I’m sure the staff will take care of dinner.”
“What staff?”
Clare waved her hand in the air. “I’m going to be doing interviews later today. I’m waiting on the decorators to show up. They’re late. I’ve half a mind to fire them, but they’re the best…rude, but the best.”
“Clare, have a seat so we can talk.”
“Go home.” Clare turned to leave the room.
Tippy smiled as she barked. “Move a muscle and I’ll break your skinny little legs.”
“How dare you!” Clare whirled around and spit pretty good for a woman in her third trimester.
“I just talked with Ian. He wanted to know if I knew anything about decorators, and clothing stores and temp agencies that were calling him verifying the orders being placed in his name.” Tippy batted her eyes. “Try calling anyone in town, Clare. You’ve been blackballed as a crank.”
“Ian wouldn’t dare…”
“Sit down and shut up.” Tippy pointed to the couch. Tippy sat on the couch and patted the spot next to her.
Clare shot her a dirty look and took a seat as far to the end as she could, just as Ronnie entered the living room.
“Excuse me for interrupting. Hi, Granny!” Ronnie kissed Tippy.
“That woman is not your grandmother.” Clare sniped.
Ronnie smiled. “Yes she is.” Before she could say another word. “Papa just called, he wants me to ask if you need anything specific from the grocery store. It’s Monday, he has therapy so you’ve got a little time to make a list of what you might need.”
“I’ll be doing the shopping from now on.” Clare smiled and held out her hand. “Just give me your credit card.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Ronnie said sweetly but firmly. “This is one of the chores I get allowance for. The charges to my card are gone over with a fine tooth comb by Papa and Ripley. Unless Papa tells me personally otherwise, nothing has changed.” He handed her a small notebook and a pen. “You have fifteen minutes or do without.”
“Now see here, young man…” Clare’s nostrils flared.
“Fifteen minutes.” He walked off, paying no attention to her.
“I will not be…”
“Clare…” Tippy smiled. “Shut up.”
“Look, Tippy, Ian may have let you people run him over, but I’m in charge now and I will not…”
“Let’s get something straight. You are not in charge here, as Ronnie pointed out very sweetly, nothing has changed and until we all hear otherwise personally from Ian every thing, and I mean every thing stays as it was.”
“We’ll just see about that.”
“Clare, honey you don’t seem to realize that the world you’re in doesn’t revolve around you. You’ve stepped into a family. Now you’ve made some demands, and granted you’ve got some…well let’s just say there are a lot of things to be considered, but bottom line, you got no pull around here. Either you stop fighting and start trying to find your place in the family or you’re gonna find your butt, pregnant or not, right back out the door.”
“I am pregnant with Ian’s baby.”
“Yes, so it seems.” Tippy smiled. “And we are all trying very hard to be happy about that. Now let’s all just calm down, relax and try to get along. Let’s just start from scratch shall we?”
“I have no intention of…”
“Let’s just start from scratch or I punch your lights out? How ‘bout that?”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
Tippy batted her eyes and leaned closer. “Try me.”
Clare looked at Tippy. “You would wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat.” Tippy picked up the notebook. “I’d start makin’ m’grocery list. Since we’re starting from scratch I’ll warn you now, you don’t want to mess with Ronnie. He doesn’t warn you in advance.”
As Clare began to write a few things in the notebook, Tippy leaned back. “Now I talked with Ian, too. Tomorrow the girls and I are going to take you shopping. It’s a regular Tuesday thing with us, and Ian, as a favor, has asked that we invite you. I thought we might look for things for the baby. That’ll be a first for us.”
“For the baby?” Clare looked up and smiled.
“Yes. We’re going to need a nursery aren’t we? Of course, we spend a lot of the day pampering ourselves. We’re the women of the family. We deserve to pamper ourselves at least once a week. Oooh! I’ll have to call Ormond. He gives the best pedicures. I just loved pedicures when I was pregnant.”
“I’ve never had one.”
“Darlin’ are you in for a treat.” Tippy grinned. “Let me call right now and get him to work one more into the schedule.”
As Tippy hit the speed dial, Vonnie came stomping back into the living room. She scampered to Tippy and gave her a kiss, then scooted around the couch giving a wide birth and deadly stare to Clare, who ignored her, happily making her grocery list.
Just before she scampered out, Vonnie leaned over and whispered into Clare’s ear. “I don’t like you.”
Mike looked up at the stunning blonde standing there watching. She smiled, waiting patiently.
“Okay, I think we’re done here today.” He said.
“Thank God!” Ian said sprawled out on the table. “I understand there’s a reason behind all this, but personally I don’t think my body parts are supposed to bend in most of those directions.”
Mike chuckled a little bit as he made some notes. “Just relax there for a few minutes, and I’ll see you again on Wednesday.”
“No offense, but I am so not looking forward to it.” Ian just lay on the table looking up at the ceiling.
“You the ride?” Mike asked her.
She shook her head. “I’m just waiting for a private moment of his time.”
The physical therapist nodded. “I’ll shut the door and give you some.”
Ian didn’t realize she was in the room. She stood there just looking a moment, heart and mind racing in so many directions. Finally she said softly, “Hey, there.”
Although he didn’t move, the blissful smile was immediate. “Saxon…are you my driver?”
“No.” She took a step toward him and put her hand on his chest. “Don’t sit up…unless you feel you have to.”
“Good. I don’t think I can move.”
Saxon pulled up the little stool Mike had been sitting on. “How you feeling?”
“Every corpuscle is screaming ouch, but other than that…”
She smiled. He loved it when she smiled. “I’m sorry for just coming here. I know this isn’t a time you would normally entertain, but I needed to see you.”
Ian reached for her hand and held it. “You know you are always welcome.”
“Ian, I won’t be coming around for a while.”
“Saxon…”
She put her fingers on his lips. “I know, but there are so many things you need to work out. I just think it would be easier if I weren’t anywhere nearby.” She took her fingers away and looked into his eyes. “I know you understand.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Ian pushed himself up with a groan, swinging his legs to the floor. “You aren’t still afraid of Clare, are you?”
“Not anymore.” She noticed he never released her hand. “But we all need to be respectful of the situation, and the best thing I can do is maintain a little distance.”
“That will be difficult.” Ian felt the need to break eye contact, closing his eyes and memorizing the warmth of her hand. “Especially when we’ll be working on our little project together.”
“It will be easier for you to focus on other little projects, if my being doesn’t consistently send Clare into orbit.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For the frustration, for the situation, but most of all for the distance.”
“It’s not your fault. I understand.” She said, reaching for his face and gently turning it toward hers. “Ian, you have absolutely no need to apologize.”
“Maybe I was apologizing via surrogate for Clare.”
“She has no need to apologize either.” Saxon read the look on Ian’s face. “I understand her Ian. She made a mistake. She’s scared, angry and frustrated. I would be too, if I were in her shoes.”
“I wish I understood, especially her attitude toward you.”
Saxon smiled. “Ian, Clare knows that what you and I have will always be more solid, more beautiful and more powerful than anything she could ever have with you. We all three know that.”
“But, Saxon…”
“Do something for me?”
“Anything.”
“Love this baby.” She looked deeply into his heart. “No matter what, love this baby and always know that whatever decisions you may make I stand beside you and support you both.” She looked at their clasped hands and then back into Ian’s eyes. “All three of you.”
All Ian could do was nod his head. He swore he could hear her swallow her breath when they let go.
“Saxon?” He stopped her as she turned to go. “No matter what happens…” He hung his head in frustration. “Saxon, I can’t think of anything but clichés. I hate that, but I’ll never forgive myself…”
“Forgive yourself?” She turned to him. “For what?”
“That I never stirred up the courage to at least do this.” Ian took her face with his hands, and brushed a stray bit of blonde from her forehead. She smiled and leaned her cheek into the palm of his hand.
It was brief. It was tender. It was just a moment in time when their lips touched. It was just a moment in the revolution of the world. It was the only moment two people had to be in love until it was time for both to go back to the reality that would always keep them apart.
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