Vonnie had her cat draped over one arm and her “Hello Kitty” purse draped over the other. “Now Percy, we’re going over to Uncle Ian’s house. Granny and Poppy are having some kind of TV show here and for some reason they only want humans around. You can spend the day with your sister. She’s calmed down now that Uncle Ian’s home so you should be fine.”
She was almost to the back door when she remembered something else. “Oh, and the mean fat lady will be over here in the back yard so that’s another plus for you.” She hefted the seemingly spineless and happy cat a little. “I hope that lady has the baby soon or I’m gonna hafta kill ‘er.”
“Young lady!” She heard the scolding tone behind her.
“Uh oh.” Vonnie froze and whispered to Percy. The tot slowly turned around to face her accuser.
“Have you been in your Uncle’s room?” The housekeeper stood before her holding three manila envelopes.
“I never go into any one’s room unless I’m invited.” Vonnie looked up and smiled innocently. When the housekeeper tapped her foot and cleared her throat she added, less innocently, “Or when I’m bored and they leave the door open.”
“Did you by any chance get bored and wander through your Uncle Jesse’s bedroom door this morning?”
“No, Miss Inez. I swear.” Vonnie blinked.
“Then why did I find this unopened mail in his trash can?”
“I don’t know.”
“I suppose these just fell off his desk and into the trash can themselves?” She waived the mailers at her.
“Miss Inez, I’m only four. I don’t understand the dynamics of physics. Perhaps you should speak with some one older if you need some help in that department.” Vonnie said, instantly knowing by the look on the woman’s face that her comment didn’t come out as adorable as she’d hoped it would.
“Vonda Rae Jarvis, I’d watch my…”
“Is there a problem, Inez?”
The woman gave Vonnie the fearful “I’m spilling the beans” look, giving the little girl just a moment to figure out how to prove her innocence. “Mr. Jesse, I’m afraid the young one here has been playing in your room without permission again.”
Her uncle shot Vonnie a look, and she knew she was safe. “Vonnie doesn’t need permission to go in my room when the door is open. We have a little deal. She’s allowed to use my portable DVR player until she saves up her allowance to buy one of her own.”
“It’s in the bottom drawer of his desk.” Vonnie grinned at the housekeeper with pride. “He trusts me with it. I won’t drop it and break it and hide it in the trash can like you do when you break the good glasses.”
Inez smirked at the four year old, determined to get her for that last remark. “Then why…” She placed the trio of envelopes in Jesse’s hands. “…Did I find your unopened mail in the trash can?” She grinned down at Vonnie, knowing she’d finally scored.
“Because I put them there.” Jesse shocked the housekeeper with his comment.
“Why would you do something like that?”
“Actually, Inez, what I do and don’t do with my mail is none of your business.” Jesse did his best not to be cross. “I understand your thinking there was some kind of mistake and appreciate your bringing it to my attention.”
“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”
“You’ve been with us a long time, Inez. I don’t understand this sudden need to be accusatory. If you think there is a problem, bring it to the attention of the person it concerns, please don’t ever bring it to the attention of someone else first.”
“Of course, Mr. Jesse.”
“Now, exactly what were you doing in my room without permission?”
The tables had turned and Vonnie was enjoying seeing the woman squirm.
“Well…I…” Inez cleared her throat. “Miss Tippy wanted me to make sure all the trash cans were emptied in case one of the crew needed to use the facilities…sir.”
“I appreciate your being thorough, Inez, but I’m sure the crew will have no need to wander up to the third floor to pee.”
“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again, Mr. Jesse.” Inez took her leave and wandered off mumbling in Spanish.
“Do you understand Spanish, Uncle Jesse?” Vonnie looked up in relief and smiled.
“Yes, but apparently Inez doesn’t know that.”
“What’s she saying?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Jesse bent over and gave her a hug. “Does she give you a hard time, Sweetheart?”
“Uncle Jesse, I’m four.” She sighed. “Let’s face it, that always makes it my fault.”
“I understand. Until you came along, I was the youngest in this house.” He pushed a hair off her face and kissed her forehead. “It really, really sucks sometimes.”
“S’okay, I can handle it.” Vonnie sighed and hoisted the kitty up in her arms. “But when I grow up and rule the world, the first thing I’m gonna do is have that woman deported.”
Jesse laughed. “I thought the first thing you were going to do was marry Ronnie.”
“Oh that’s just gonna happen, Miss Inez…I’m gonna make happen.” She turned to leave.
“Uhm…where exactly do you think your going?” He asked.
She turned and gave him the old “Not you, too” look. “I’m takin’ Percy over to Uncle Ian’s. Granny’s afraid Percy’ll get in the way.”
“Tell you what, why don’t we just put Percy in your room and close the door?”
“My rooms on the first floor. I ain’t worked my way up to the Penhouse yet. Them Goobers with cables done let him out three times already.”
“Tell you what, let’s make Miss Inez crazy. You take Percy up to my room and shut the door. Move the litter box in there with some food and water. He’ll be nice and cozy.”
Vonnie grinned. “’Kay.”
The little one scampered off, cat in tow as Jesse looked at the envelopes in his hands. He rolled his eyes and dumped them for the second time in the trash.
“Junk mail?” He startled at the voice suddenly behind him.
“What?” He said as he spun around.
“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Claire looked miserable. “I just came in where it’s cooler. I know the audience is supposed to be outside, but for 5 A.M. it’s effing hot out there.”
“You being pretty effing pregnant probably has a lot to do with it.” Jesse smiled at her. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No thanks. That’ll just make me hafta pee, again.” She sighed as she lifted herself down into the nearest chair. “One of these kids has discovered how to squeeze my bladder.”
Jesse grinned ear to ear. “I still can’t believe your going to have twins. We should have guessed.”
“Do twins run in your family?”
“No, but it explains why you’re bigger than Disneyland.” The nasty look Claire gave him made Jesse try and lighten her mood. “Hey, now you can run out and buy two of everything…I know how you love to shop.”
“You do it then.” She snarled.
“Just trying to make you smile, Claire.” Jesse pouted.
“You wanna make me smile, Jesse?” Claire tried to get comfortable in the easy chair. “Reach in my uterus and yank these kids out for me.”
Claire caught a whiff of her mood. “Sorry, Jesse. I know you are trying to be kind, but right now I am hot and sweaty and soooo sick of being pregnant.”
“Well, on the bright side the doctor did say you could go at any time.”
“A week ago…exactly how long is ‘any time now’ in California?” Claire moaned. “Okay, let’s change the subject maybe that will get me out of this mood. So why are you throwing your unopened mail away?”
Jesse looked down at the envelopes in the trash. “Actually one is opened, I assume the others are the same so I’m not bothering.”
“I repeat myself.” She said. “Junk mail?”
“Sort of.” Jesse squirmed a little. “Someone’s idea of a joke. Three identical manila envelopes, no return address, I opened the first one and it had nothing in it but a DVD…of home made gay porn.”
“What?”
“I popped it in my computer and voila, two dudes going at it.”
“And the other two?”
“Who cares?” Jesse said. “In the trash, unopened.”
“You know I’ve never seen gay porn.” Claire giggled.
Jesse picked the envelopes up out of the trash and tossed the to her. “Have at it then.”
She looked at the manila suddenly in her lap. “Why didn’t you open the other two?”
“I figured more of the same, not interested.” Jesse turned to leave her. “Oh, if by chance one of them has a note or a clue who they’re from; let me know so I can go kick their ass.”
“You got it.”
Vonnie strutted by holding a water and a food dish.
“You need help, Sweetheart?” Jesse asked.
“I got it, Uncle Jesse.” She smiled and sashayed along as he disappeared. Vonnie froze when she spotted Claire looking at her.
“Vista.” Claire said a nodded her head.
“Cleo.” Vonnie returned the greeting and scooted quickly up the stairs. When she reached the door to Jesse’s room, she struggled just a moment with her goods but got it opened and let herself inside.
Percy was happily longing on the bed, making Vonnie smile. “You are happy in here.” She plopped down beside him. “I like it in here, too.”
Looking around the room. “’Kay now, your litter box is in the bathroom and I’ll put your food and water…um…right here.” She popped off the bed and plopped the dishes beside the desk.
She spotted something shiny in the floor behind the trashcan. Curiosity got the best of her and she snatched it up. “Cool! A driver’s license!”
Vonnie hurled herself onto the bed beside her cat and looked at the newfound treasure. “It’s not Uncle Jesse’s.” She pointed out the picture to Percy. “I never seed this guy before.”
Popping open her “Hello Kitty” purse she slipped the plastic inside. “I’ll just keep it until I see the guy and then I’ll give it back to him.”
She stroked Percy’s fur. “You think they’ll let me drive while I got it?”
Ronnie grabbed her hand. “Come one he’s over there!” He pointed and practically dragged Miss Glo and her wheel chair in that direction.
Ian was dressed in a blue double-breasted suit, Miss Glo recognized Bill Blass when she saw it. He was standing beside the curt women who hosted the morning program on HRT. Gloria didn’t watch it because she just didn’t care for her at all. She reminded him of a constipated nun with no sense of humor and not happy about it. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to watch it live.
She had thought about faking a seizure, but being anywhere near these people was so much better than being in that nursing home. She longed for the day she could leave it entirely. Damn that Ian Justyn, he’d given her a reason to get up in the morning, even though half of her body would never get up again.
Ian saw them approaching and lit up.
“Hey buddy.” Ian bent down and gave his son a hug and a kiss. “Do you remember Miss Gleason?” He asked him.
“Yes.” Ronnie said as if rehearsed. “It is so good to see you again, ma’am.” The lady stretched a half second smile and turned her head away.
“Morning dew on my nose damn it!” She put her hands on her hips. “Make up, I said fucking morning dew!” And stomped off.
“Morning dew to you, too.” Ronnie mocked and rolled his eyes.
Ripley, never far way from Ian, stifled a smile but smacked the kid lightly on the back of the head.
“Sorry, Uncle Ripley, but she’s just not a nice person.” Ronnie got excited. “Papa, papa…” he grabbed Miss Glo’s hand. “Look who’s come to watch you.”
Ian smiled and bent down to kiss Miss Glo’s good hand. “Miss Glo, I’m so honored you came.”
“Bite…me…” She said as half her face smiled. “Hate…show…”
“Which is why I’m glad you’re here.” He stayed at her eye level. “I’ve taken great pains to fill the live audience with people who think the show sucks.”
“Are you gonna sit with us, Papa?” Ronnie bounced from beside the chair.
“Once we get the show going I’ll do my best, Puppy. I’ll be bouncing around a lot. This is a big day for me. I am so glad you are both here though.” He kissed his son on the top of the head.
“Miss Claire’s already in her seat.”
“Tell her thank you for me and I’ll try to get out during one of the commercial breaks. Ripley, why don’t you go keep m’seat warm?”
“Are you sure?” He asked as Ronnie took his hand.
“Please, no need for you to stand around and wonder if I’m going to hyperventilate.”
Obviously not wanting to leave the man’s side, Ripley nodded his head anyway. “Com’mon then. Miss Glo, do you need some help?”
The woman deftly wrapped a finger around a lever and the wheelchair smoothly backed up. “Do…good.”
Zaundra Gleason bellowed. “Damn it Ian, get your ass over here…NOW!”
Ian rolled his eyes and started toward the pseudo-atomic blast. Miss Glo’s wheelchair suddenly whipped around and blocked him. He almost lost his balance and had to catch himself on the arms of her chair.
“Miss Glo?”
She looked him right in the eyes easily since now they were literally eye to eye. “You…good?”
“I’m fine.” He couldn’t help but read the concern in her eyes. “Honestly. I’ve checked my sugar and feeling better than I have in actually….years. I honestly didn’t know how bad I felt until I felt good again.”
Ian kissed his fingers and touched her face. Her eyes smiled despite the frown on the half of her face that worked.
“Justyn…fucking NOW!”
“Fire…her…” With that, Miss Glo was off on her mechanical way.
Ian watched her disappear. He took a deep breath and calmly strolled over to a steaming Zaundra Gleason. “Zaundra, watch your mouth.”
“Shut the fuck up…” she snarled. “We have a problem.”
“You just got a fine.” Ian looked at Wella who was standing there with a clipboard. “$250 from the bitch’s paycheck…make that $150…” he turned back to Zaundra. “And what is the problem now?”
“Senator Bellson is stuck in traffic. We have to rearrange.”
“That’s not a problem. We’ll do the Tippy intro first and….” Looking at the clipboard and where Wella was pointing on it. “…Yeah I like that, a quick headline recap at the top of every hour instead of ten minutes after then go right to the cooking sequence. We’ll clip along as planned, plugging the senator in when he arrives.”
“I don’t like that…I will not start the day with an asinine segment of an over the hill Miss America teaching people how to make cheesecake!” she snapped.
“That’s the way it’s going to be Zaundra…and before you open your mouth I don’t care if you don’t like it, suck it up and do it!” Ian calmly looked at the diva. “And let me remind you, your new contract doesn’t kick in until the camera hits your face. One more outburst and not only will that contract be null and void but I’ll see to it your face hits the camera on the way out.”
“Places people! We are rolling credits in five…four…three…” and the music started.
Tippy slipped up behind Ian and kissed him on the back of the neck. “Pearce is on the set, you ready Baby Doll?”
“Who gives a shit about him?” Zaundra whispered. “Tuck that cleavage in. You look like a whore.”
“That does it.” Ian motioned for the stage manager as the new theme music reached a crescendo. “Dougie, get this woman off my set.”
“You can’t do that, I’m about to go on.” Zaundra said.
“Not any more…you’re fired!” Zaundra’s eyes got huge. “Get her off this property, in her own words…now!”
Dougie grabbed Zaundra by the arm and lead her away, Zaundra quietly protesting. Ian turned to Tippy “Congrats, Miss America, you just got a job…”
“Huh?” she said
The audience was applauding and the director pointed at Pearce who said, “And welcome to “America Alive!” this morning from the heart of Hollywood where legends are born and never die.”
More applause. “I’m Pearce Warner, I’ll be with you this and every morning for the months to come. Won’t you join me in welcoming my co-host…” Pearce was rattled a minute as he read the cue card being shaken from behind the camera… “Tippy Shores!”
The audience, mostly friends and neighbors roared. Tippy turned to Ian. “Baby Doll, I’m taking you down with me…” she grabbed Ian’s arm and pulled him out in front of the camera with her as she graciously walked to the chairs beside Pearce, Ian trying to not look like a deer in the headlights.
“Thank you so much, and may I have the privilege of introducing the man behind it all, he’ll be here all week with us…” she lowered her voice slightly “…or I’ll kill him…” the audience howled, “Ian Justyn.”
Ian just smiled and held out a chair for Tippy to be seated in, he knew he wasn’t mic’d as well as he knew there would be ninety seconds of banter and then a cut to the first pre taped tour. Tippy and Pearce actually seemed to connect. Ian was thunderstruck. Suddenly he felt Tippy grab him by the tie. “At least say hello, Baby Doll…”
“No mic…” He said.
She pulled him over at the waist and hoisted her mic’d boobs toward him. “Now say something.”
“Good morning from the mountains?” The audience howled and Pearce almost fell off his chair laughing.
Tippy fluffed her hair and looked poised. “Some one get this man a chair…and pull it real close to me...” she changed the position of her face to the camera that now had the green light. “Now that we’re all charged up, let’s start the morning off with a little peek at some of the homes and legends right here on the street we are broadcasting from.”
“We are live all week long from Tippy’s own back yard, once the home of the legendary Darla Hutton…”
“Actually Pearce, that’s incorrect. This was actually the home of James Redfield, most of the original structure that Darla and husband Oscar winning director David Turner shared is next door. Let’s take a look as I get a lesson in what really happened in my own backyard from 1930 to 1960.”
“And we’re out…” the director called. “We’ve got 5 and then another 90 second tease before first break.
The audience applauded and Pearce laughed his ass off while someone feverishly started clipping a lavaliere on Ian. Ian slipped an earplug in. “Stan? Kill any part of the teasers with Zaundra…I don’t care throw holy water on them, she’s gone…”
Tippy turned to Pearce. “Threw a few hissy fits and he fired her.”
“I told her not to mess with him…” Pearce said.
“I’m afraid I’m it for now, Sugar, so let’s just relax and have some fun.” Tippy smiled. She waved at Ronnie who waved back and threw her a kiss.
Ian stuck his finger on the earplug. “Stan, kill the teasers all together, just get shots of the audience and the action…yeah, remind ‘em that we’re live, just point at anything fun, or interesting…”
“Or hot…” Tippy added.
It seemed like the shortest five minutes in history, people running around adjusting lights and angles to include a third unexpected body on the set. The live audience seemed glued to the monitor running the tour piece.
“And we’re back.”
Pearce smiled at the camera. “We’re going to take a short break and then Tippy is going to show the bachelor here how to make a simple but tasty cheesecake.”
“Mmmm…chocolate…” she smiled.
Ian jumped in “And later in the hour, Senator Harlan Bellson will be here…”
“Traffic permitting…” Tippy added.
“Traffic permitting…to talk about his candidacy for the office of President of the United States.”
“We’re playing it by ear today folks, so come back at watch us all have nervous breakdowns!” Tippy grinned with energy.
Pearce broke up again. “God, I love this gig. Come on back as soon as you can…”
“And clear…”
Pearce got up and kissed Tippy on the cheek. “I love you…okay I’m over here you’re over there.”
“Gotcha…” Tippy grabbed Ian by the arm. “You, my favorite hunk, you’re with me.”
As Pearce passed by Ian he whispered in his ear. “She’s a keeper…please please please!” And went over to the area they had set up for news.
“Hey…” as he realized Tippy was dragging him over to the kitchen area. “I’m just the decoration…”
“And you’re very pretty, but I need you here…” she said.
“Tippy you’ve done this before...”
“But I’ve never done this…” and she pointed to the ingredients on the counter. “This is your specialty...you let me be the hostess and teach me how to do it.”
“Tippy, you’ve….”
“Two words…Zaundra Gleason…” she glared at him.
“You’ll make her look positively charming, won’t you?”
She smiled and pinched his cheek. “You’re so smart.”
“And we’re back!”
“Just to keep the fun going I have a special treat for you.” Tippy smiled. “Ian, take off your clothes…”
Ian started undoing his tie. The audience and the crew cheered. They could hear Pearce cracking up across the patio. Tippy helped him take his jacket off. “That’s enough Baby Doll; we’ll save the rest when we need the big ratings.”
“You’re no fun!”
“Yes I am…oh I forgot there were people watching. Where were we? Oh yes…” Tippy giggled. “Now I have a houseful of boys, so it’s seems that I’ve been stuck with all the cooking…”
“Or Inez has…” Ian threw in.
Tippy hit him playfully with a wooden spoon, “…so I was thrilled when this hot little number moved in next door and preceded to cook us all under the table. Ladies, he’s single, good lookin and can cook…”
“…And not half bad in the kitchen.” More cheers came from the audience.
“So we’re going to let him show us his specialty…”
“Tippy, please.” Ian feigned embarrassment. “This is network television, not cable.”
“…Dark chocolate cheesecake.”
“It’s actually very simple and easy. Guys you can impress anyone with this…”
“Believe me, it’s a culinary orgasm…” Tippy smiled and then put her hand to her mouth. “Oh shit, can you say orgasm on live morning television?”
“Yes…but you can’t say oh shit….”
It was that moment Ian was thankful for the five-second delay and knew the world had fallen in love with Tippy Shores, all over again. The rest of the program went of with only one other hitch. Just as the Senator was arriving Pearce ran off for a potty break and accidentally locked himself in a closet.
Tippy was informed on the air and cracked, “In the closet? I thought that door got thrown open a couple of years ago” and then introduced the Senator. The director panicked and urged Ian to go sit in and do the interview, but Ian had confidence in Tippy.
At first the Senator treated her like a dumb Miss America, but she soon had impressed him with her intelligence, grilling him on important issues and not letting him off the hook until he gave a straight forward answer that “we normal people can understand and accept.”
She even asked him if he had been affected by the war. He hemmed and hawed finally telling her that she wouldn’t understand. Tippy charmingly disemboweled him on the air, telling him that her son had served on the front lines and been given two purple hearts so never to assume that she wouldn’t understand.
Tippy then ended the interview by telling him that he was very assumptive and wanted to know if he thought that was a good qualification for President. She ended the interview with a humble thank you and patting him on the knee, telling him sweetly he had a “lot of work to do” and tossed it to commercial.
The Senator was outraged and demanded her termination. Ian simply thanked him for the interview and told him in the future he should be more careful whom he thought was a dumb broad before he made as ass of himself on national television.
When the last “We’re clear” came through there were cheers everywhere. The trio of Pearce, Tippy and Ian were relieved, laughing and patting each other on the back. Ian’s phone rang almost immediately with a call from David Turner who told him that the phones had been jammed with viewers gushing at how much they loved the new format. It was a shock to what they were used to, but so much more fun and energetic than what they were used to watching.
By the time he got off the phone to tell the crew, Tippy, Pearce and company were already replanning the next day. Ian tossed out “Looks like we’re a hit” and promptly called legal to send down a contract for Tippy.
David Turner was grinning from ear to ear as he turned the set off in his office. He knew the industry was watching. He also knew that they were sweating.
Young Justyn had done it. “They” were willing to write off the coups he arranged as beginner’s luck. “They” had assumed that his brilliant stroke of turning the abysmal “Sebastian Manor” into a not miss laugh riot was desperation paying off.
“America Alive” was the first thing that would actually have Justyn’s fingerprints all over it. Too bad “They” didn’t realize if Ian knew how to do anything it was make a news format entertaining and informative and a success. He’d taken a barely watched hour in the afternoon in a tiny market and turned it into a dynamo that was outpacing anything networks could churn out. That’s what had got him to Hollywood in the first place.
Granted it was only the first outing, but “America Alive” went from snooze fest to a morning jolt of fresh coffee in the first five minutes. It was fast paced, funny, irreverent and above all direct. By the end of the program, everyone one watching knew when to tune in for the news unslanted, unbiased and just the facts. They also knew that in between those details was a wild ride at break neck speed.
Turner wondered how many people were late for work because they couldn’t take their eyes off of HRT at 6 in the morning. There was no doubt that before too long their bottom feeder morning news would be a killer in the ratings. He also had no doubt that by the end of the summer; the other networks would be trying to imitate it.
He’d had no doubt at all. He had just wondered when the rest of the world would catch on to the fact that Ian Justyn was more than a pretty face and a sound bite magnet. The man knew what he was doing. All Turner had to do now was sit back and let him do it.
Oh, the blood bath in September would be such sweet revenge. Too long HRT had been considered the Miss America pageant of networks. While his rivals had acknowledged Young Justyn’s knack for scoring the hottest talent available, they done little more than give the new schedule a nice pat on the head and say “How adorable”.
“Adorable is about to rip them all a new one.” He said to himself.
Turner swiveled the chair in his penthouse office around to gaze outside. He hadn’t felt the sure and this confident since he couldn’t remember when…yes he could. It was a long time ago…
…Somehow Lucille had done it again. It wasn’t a huge premiere. There wasn’t a big company with endless pockets to back it up. None of the stars or the director were household names, but some how Lucille had managed to pack the place with as many big names as she could cajole, beg or blackmail into being there.
There hadn’t been an empty seat in the house. He had to admit while standing in the back of the house waiting for “Breathe” to begin, he was holding his breath. The crowd was restless and noisy, barely noticing that the movie had begun.
It didn’t take long, before they grew silent. At first he thought it might just be respect for someone who might actually want to see it.
Then she appeared on the screen, and as many times as he’d already seen it, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He was transfixed, and as soon as he was able again to take his eyes away, he knew the audience was transfixed, too. And then not just by her, but by the movie itself. He’d done well.
And now he stood in the midst of everyone in the ballroom rented for the after party. Every phone in town must have been busy during the screening because suddenly all of Hollywood was trying to crash the wet bar. They had done it, damn; they’d managed to pull it out of the fire.
“You look like the fat feline with yellow feathers in his mouth.” Someone said from behind him.
He turned to see the face with the voice. Lucille stood dutifully arm in arm with her husband James. “Well, Mr. Turner looks like our labor of love has paid off.”
David put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Well, Mr. Redfield, I think we can both rest easy tonight.”
Lucille looked around him. “Where is she?”
They panicked. “She was right here just a moment ago.” Turner searched the room with his eyes frantically.
“Calm down.” Redfield tried to calm them. “She’s probably hiding in the bathroom. She’s scared to death, poor thing.”
“I’ll go get her.” Lucille smirked. “Scared or not, she needs to be seen.” Before she headed for the john she hissed at Turner. “And as soon as I drag that idiot back here, don’t let her out of your sight until we figure out what to do with her.”
“What to do with her?” Turner asked.
“One wrong word to the wrong person, hell to the right person and this night of triumph turns into a nightmare.” Lucille just had to remind him.
Despite the wall-to-wall superstar, it didn’t take Lucille long to get back from the facilities. “She’s not in there.”
“What?”
“Find her, damn it, find that woman!” Lucille snarled as quietly as possible. “It can’t be hard to find a moron in the room.”
“Oh great, we have to find the beagle in a room full of brown and white puppies.” Redfield looked as discreetly as possible around the ballroom.
Turner saw a familiar face. He grabbed the man’s arm. “Herman, have you seen your sister?”
“No, not recently.” Lucille gave him a look that made the man panic. “Look she’s scared to death, always hated crowds and attention. She’s just found a corner to hide in. You should know she does that by now.”
“Great.” Lucille said. “We’ve got our new star trembling behind the drapes. I’m not paying for the dry cleaning if she blows her nose on them.”
Elysian pointed. “There she is.”
“Where?” Turner craned his neck to see where he was pointing.
“On the bandstand.”
“I’ll go get her.” Redfield volunteered.
“No.” Turner put up his hand. “Let me.”
“Hurry, before she gets away. Hedda Hopper’s here, the last person on Earth you want her talking to, and you know that bitch wants to talk to her.” Lucille shoved him in the direction of the bandstand.
“She’ll be fine.” Herman defended his sister. “She’s loves music. It calms her down. She’s probably just enjoying it.” He grabbed Turner’s arm. “Let me go with you, just in case she is having another meltdown. I can usually keep her calm.”
“Then go.” Lucille urged them on with her hands. “Don’t talk about defusing the bomb when it’s about to go off. Just choose a color and yank the wire…NOW!”
She was so glad there was music. She loved music. She had made her way near the band as was swaying back and forth humming to the song. How she wanted to get closer to it and farther away from them.
Well, most of them. They kept making her do things she didn’t want to do. That woman was the worst of all. She was mean and she frightened her. The two men were sweet though, and she kept letting them talk into doing want the mean woman wanted. She couldn’t help it if it kept making her cry.
She hated that monstrosity they called a camera. It kept getting too close and every time she would start to enjoy herself, it would be there. It was horrible.
But the stage had a bright silvery microphone. She’d always liked microphones. Her Daddy would never let her near one.
“Music is of the devil. It will drag you down to hell with it.” He would say anytime he heard he sing.
She was glad no one noticed her step up on the stage. The man at the piano had smiled at her, so she stepped right up and sat down beside him. He never missed a beat; his fingers kept right on running across the keyboard.
When she heard a few people giggle, she almost got up and ran but the piano man said, “You stay right there, hon. This is your night. Enjoy it.”
It made her feel so warm inside. She didn’t know what he meant, but she thought it meant she could stay where she was. So she did. The man nodded his head and started playing another song.
It was so beautiful she forgot she was somewhere she shouldn’t be. She did know that her Daddy wasn’t anywhere near anymore. Herman had taken her away from that awful man. Remembering that made her smile and close her eyes.
Then she started to sing. She knew all the words and sang right along. It felt so nice. It felt so good. She hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time.
They had managed to make their way to the bandstand. Herman and David, James and Lucille not far behind, had managed to get there without anyone noticing they were desperate to get to the new starlet. Another few steps and either David or Herman could speak quietly to her, hopefully getting her to take an arm and not let go for the rest of the night.
David was about to reach up to her when, again, a hand grabbed his arm.
“Wait.” Lucille said. She nodded her head toward the shy bird on the piano stool. “Listen.”
Turner turned his ear toward the stage. His eyes grew wide and he shot a glance toward Redfield and his wife.
Lucille was smiling. “I think I know what to do with her.”
“What?” Her husband whispered.
“We can keep this up.” The woman was almost smiling, something Turner wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. “Who knows where this could take us?”
She opened her eyes and saw them looking at her. She knew they would make her stop so she was going to enjoy this as long as she could. Surely, they’d at least wait for the song to end before they dragged her back.
“You have a beautiful voice, my dear.” The piano man said.
“Thank you. I like to sing.” She blushed and said quietly. “You play beautifully.”
“Well, I am Ralston Scott. That’s what they pay me to do.”
“Okay.” She had no idea what he meant, but she glanced down at the mean lady and that nice man her brother called Dave. She knew her safe time was almost up.
“Sing something else.” The piano man said.
“Me?”
“Of course you.”
“Alright. What should I sing?”
“Anything you want.” He said.
She looked to see if they were frowning, but that silvery microphone got in the way. She pointed at it. “Can I sing there?”
“Of course.” The piano man seemed to think that was a funny thing to say.
She didn’t care. She got up and went right to that microphone. “Uhm…”
The boom of her voice suddenly made everyone in the room stop and look at her. At first it scared her, but she reached out and held on to the silver. She turned to the piano man and asked. “Do you know ‘Ever After Blue Sky’?”
“I should. I wrote it.”
“Okay.” She said.
There was some laughter, but it was not going to make her run this time. She was going to sing. She heard the notes of her favorite song and closed her eyes.
When her mouth opened she could hear herself clear and strong. It was wonderful. When she opened her eyes no one was laughing, but they were all looking at her. They were all looking at her and she could feel how much they liked her song. It made her want to sing more. She did.
They applauded. They applauded her when she finished. She couldn’t believe it. She just stood there and smiled. She didn’t know what else to do.
“Tell us your name again, hon,” The piano man said making her turn her head to him.
“My name is…”
He motioned for her to turn around and say her name in the silvery microphone so everyone could hear. “My name is…I…”
They caught her eye. Those three people and her brother were standing right there in front of her. The mean woman frowned, but the man named Dave smiled and nodded is head.
She remembered.
“My name is Darla…Darla Hutton.”
And Dave knew without a doubt, that a star was born.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Vignette #215: Tardis Landing
“Claire Humphreys! I am so mad right now I could spit nails right into your eyes!” Tippy steamed as the doctor squirted gel on the pregnant woman’s belly.
“I was taking care of myself.” Claire said in pseudo-self defense. “I just didn’t have the money. I kept thinking I would and the next thing I knew I was the size of Super Wal-Mart.”
“Ever hear of a free clinic young lady?” The doctor stopped his work to look sternly at her.
“I was embarrassed.”
“You should have told somebody.” Some one in the room snipped.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Claire growled. “I kept thinking it couldn’t be true, and then, well, it was obviously true, and then I kept saying tomorrow I’ll find a doctor…and then…”
“That’s no excuse, Claire.” Ian looked at her from his bed in the room.
She pointed her finger at him. “No comments needed from the I just ignored the thirst, weight loss, mood swings and passing out until I was almost in a diabetic coma gallery.”
“She got you on that one, Papa.” Ronnie smiled.
“Should he be in here?” Claire asked.
“You’ve already been examined.” Saxon told her. “All he’ll see is the first images of his new baby brother or sister.”
“Is that okay, Miss Claire?” Ronnie looked so hopeful.
“Yes. It’s fine. I’m just in a bad mood.” Claire told him.
“You’re in a bad mood?” Tippy crossed her arms. “You put the life of your unborn child in jeopardy and you lived under our noses for three weeks and didn’t tell us and you’re in a bad mood?”
“Hey! Think of it as good planning.” Claire looked up from her prone position.
“How on Earth could this be good planning?”
Claire screwed up her face at the cold slimy stuff on her belly. “Six months ago I peed on a stick and thought—Hey, this will be the perfect way to get a hospital to break the rules and let everybody into Ian’s sick room at once.”
“Lucky for you, young lady, everyone is healthy.” The doctor said over the growing sound of what seemed to be Doctor Who’s Tardis landing. He adjusted the computer screen. “You should see the first images any second. Can everyone see the screen?”
“It’s fine doctor.” Someone said as they all edged closer.
The fuzzy squiggles appeared for all to see. There were “ahs” and sighs. Tippy took Colton’s hand.
Ian cocked his head and tried to make sure his eyes were working properly. “Doctor? Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”
“You’re eyes are just fine, Ian.”
“It’s my baby.” Claire felt a strange tug as she looked at the moving Rorschach test in front of her. She suddenly wanted to know. “Due date? Can you give me a due date? I was guessing I was about seven months along. My math is pretty good.”
“You’re close. I’d say you could deliver at any time.”
“Anytime?” Tippy’s head snapped to attention.
“Twins are usually three to four weeks early.” The doctor looked at Ian and smiled.
“I was taking care of myself.” Claire said in pseudo-self defense. “I just didn’t have the money. I kept thinking I would and the next thing I knew I was the size of Super Wal-Mart.”
“Ever hear of a free clinic young lady?” The doctor stopped his work to look sternly at her.
“I was embarrassed.”
“You should have told somebody.” Some one in the room snipped.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Claire growled. “I kept thinking it couldn’t be true, and then, well, it was obviously true, and then I kept saying tomorrow I’ll find a doctor…and then…”
“That’s no excuse, Claire.” Ian looked at her from his bed in the room.
She pointed her finger at him. “No comments needed from the I just ignored the thirst, weight loss, mood swings and passing out until I was almost in a diabetic coma gallery.”
“She got you on that one, Papa.” Ronnie smiled.
“Should he be in here?” Claire asked.
“You’ve already been examined.” Saxon told her. “All he’ll see is the first images of his new baby brother or sister.”
“Is that okay, Miss Claire?” Ronnie looked so hopeful.
“Yes. It’s fine. I’m just in a bad mood.” Claire told him.
“You’re in a bad mood?” Tippy crossed her arms. “You put the life of your unborn child in jeopardy and you lived under our noses for three weeks and didn’t tell us and you’re in a bad mood?”
“Hey! Think of it as good planning.” Claire looked up from her prone position.
“How on Earth could this be good planning?”
Claire screwed up her face at the cold slimy stuff on her belly. “Six months ago I peed on a stick and thought—Hey, this will be the perfect way to get a hospital to break the rules and let everybody into Ian’s sick room at once.”
“Lucky for you, young lady, everyone is healthy.” The doctor said over the growing sound of what seemed to be Doctor Who’s Tardis landing. He adjusted the computer screen. “You should see the first images any second. Can everyone see the screen?”
“It’s fine doctor.” Someone said as they all edged closer.
The fuzzy squiggles appeared for all to see. There were “ahs” and sighs. Tippy took Colton’s hand.
Ian cocked his head and tried to make sure his eyes were working properly. “Doctor? Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”
“You’re eyes are just fine, Ian.”
“It’s my baby.” Claire felt a strange tug as she looked at the moving Rorschach test in front of her. She suddenly wanted to know. “Due date? Can you give me a due date? I was guessing I was about seven months along. My math is pretty good.”
“You’re close. I’d say you could deliver at any time.”
“Anytime?” Tippy’s head snapped to attention.
“Twins are usually three to four weeks early.” The doctor looked at Ian and smiled.
Vignette #214: Superman Returns
The room was in complete silence, except for the hissing and bleating of the machines attached to Ian’s finger, and they still didn’t know she was in the room. She instantly felt uncomfortable, like she was invading a moment never meant for human eyes to see. She stood there, holding her breath and trembled. Forced to watch and afraid to be seen.
He was white; white the color of almost transparent blue. His hair was matted in sweat, and he looked as though he’d lost twenty or thirty pounds since the last time she laid eyes on him. He looked so uncomfortable in his body, but his heart was in his eyes, in his smile and they were so happy to be alive.
She just sat there. She perched gently on the edge of the bed, only half her face could be seen. Claire could see her finger slowly inch until it was touching one of his. Her face simply smiled. That smile and slight touch soothed him in the moment it took to breathe.
Finally she reached across the bed and wiped her hand across his forehead. She pushed the soppy hair back in place and he relaxed. His entire body just sighed into place.
She spoke, so softly it was almost silent. “There now.”
He brushed his cheek against her hand before she could take it all away. “I was so ashamed. I couldn’t say anything.”
Her blond curls shifted minutely as she tilted her head. “Ashamed?”
“I thought I was going through withdrawal, all the pain killers I’d been on. I thought the symptoms were…now I feel even more foolish.”
“Sshhh!” She put her finger to his lips as he closed his eyes. “Now we know and it’s being taken care of. No more mood swings, no more pain…just you. That’s all we need again.”
His lips began to tremble. He sat forward and she took him in her arms. Claire, still afraid and shamed to take a breath, watched his body begin to tremble. At first she feared he was crossing over into some kind of diabetic tremor.
Then she heard the sobs, quiet sobs from his shaking body.
She clutched him tighter, closing her eyes and held him as his body wracked against hers, her chest muffling the cries of desperation. She almost couldn’t see her rocking him back and forth, his arms clutching her tight, his heart breaking and his red, heaving face buried in her chest.
He became still. She continued to hold him and he couldn’t let go. She wouldn’t dare let go. Claire knew he’d fall if she did. She leaned against the wall to keep from slipping into floor. She shouldn’t be here. It was too intimate a moment, but if she moved, if a hair fell out of place it would break. It couldn’t break. For once in her life, she knew it couldn’t break.
Ian tried to speak. Saxon couldn’t understand him.
She took her hands and gently pulled his head up to look in his eyes. “What?”
“Make it stop.” He said. “Please. Make it stop.” From her hiding place in plain sight she could see the pain in his eyes, red and puffy, barely hanging on dripping wet white, white cheeks.
“I wish I could.”
Ian sighed, the sigh when a child catches his own breath not sure if more tears are coming or if his little heart isn’t through breaking yet. Saxon looked in his eyes.
Claire watched Saxon look in Ian’s eyes, still holding his head up, and him still holding on to her for dear life. “You can do this. You can.”
He nodded his head slightly. Her voice, in a quiet strength that fed him life, spoke. “In a few short days you are going to be physically strong again. You’ll be able to put one foot in front of the other and not have to worry about what’s going on inside your body, inside your head. You can do this.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. She closed her eyes and put her forehead on his, still gently cradling his head, and his arms still holding her oh so tight. “I will.”
With her eyes closed, she smiled. He began to breathe, not just take a breath, but breathe. The world stood still another moment.
They were hesitant at first but they finally let go of each other. The world didn’t crash as Claire almost believed it would.
Ian relaxed against the bed. Saxon tilted herself back, as though there had never been a need to hold the pieces together. Claire reached behind her for the doorknob, quietly twisting and opening. As soon as she saw Superman, she pulled the door shut again.
“Knock knock.” She said almost timidly. “Do you mind if I pop in long enough to say hello?”
“Claire.” Ian smiled genuinely and reached out his arms to her.
She tried not to cry as Saxon slipped off the bed and stepped back to let her fall into his waiting arms. She closed her eyes to shield the tears, forcing them to fall behind her eyes. She felt the clamminess of his body, but the strength of Ian Justyn’s arms gripped her.
And she gave up.
Claire gave up the dream that she was what Ian needed. It hurt like hell, but she knew that she could never have participated in what she just witnessed and have had the same outcome. She then had the push herself away from him or someone would have to hold the pieces that were left of her together.
“Ronnie will be right in.”
“Is he alright?” Ian asked as he leaned back on his bed, but held on to her hand.
“He’s fine. A little excited.”
Saxon tapped on the bed. “I’ll slip on out and let him come in.”
Claire gently grabbed her forearm. “No. You stay. I just slipped in for a moment, just long enough to see for my own eyes that Superman was alive and well and taking up bed space in Metropolis.” Ian tugged her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “You look…awful.”
Ian laughed. She loved it when she made him laugh. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Don’t apologize to me.” Claire said. “Apologize to poor Rodie. I thought that fur ball was going to have some kind of seizure, racing around the house every little hair standing on end, spitting and clawing. Tippy had to call a vet and get something to calm the damn thing down.”
“Poor varmint.” Ian said. “Tell her I’ll give her a big wave from the other side of the room when I get home.” Concern finally came over his face. “Your mother…Miss Glo…you were on the phone…”
“Stop! Stop…” Claire said. “Mama is fine. She’s pissed at you for trying to drop dead on us…again. We’ll pick her up on Friday night and she’ll be working on some hand gestures for your homecoming this weekend.”
“She’s good then?”
“She’s wonderful.” Claire smiled. “Thank you.” She felt the now familiar uncomfortable, giddy rumble. Involuntarily her hand went to the spot on her belly. “Oh ma God.”
“Claire?” Saxon’s hands went to Claire’s shoulder and when she focused her eyes she saw the concern on Ian’s face.
“Oh not to worry. It just always comes when you least expect it.” Claire took Ian’s hand and put it on her tummy. “Some one just decided they wanted you to know they’re happy you’re fine.”
“Is that…?” Ian’s face filled with wonder as Claire nodded. “Oh my…” Ian’s eyes darted up to meet Claire’s. “It feels like there’s a whole chorus line going on in there.”
“You should feel it from my end.” Claire said. She smiled and looked at Saxon, and felt the bit of unease. Claire reached out, taking Saxon’s hand and placed it next to Ian’s. “Can you feel him?”
Saxon let out a verbal breath.
“Him?” Ian looked at her. “It’s a boy?”
“I…uh…I don’t know.”
“With a kick like that,” Saxon took her hand away. “It’s got to be a boy, or a girl already wearing high heels.”
“That would definitely be Ian’s son and my daughter.” Claire remembered. “Oh…” she reached for her purse. “Look what I have.”
Ian looked at the brightly wrapped package she pulled from her purse. “A gift for me?”
“Yeah.” Claire teased. “You need another silver rattle, moron.” She gently tapped his cheek. “The first real gift for our baby…from their Auntie Kleenex Girl.”
“Stop.” Saxon gave Claire a playful shove.
“Saxon, that is so sweet. Thank you.” Ian grinned.
“Help me open it?” Claire said.
“Uh…” Saxon hesitated. “Look, maybe you should wait. Remember we’re not supposed to get him too excited.”
“Nonsense.” Ian reached for the box and started to rip the paper.
“Ian…” Saxon bit her lip and tried to keep him from opening it. “Ian, Claire…I’m thinking maybe I chose the wrong thing…would you mind…”
“Yes…” Ian looked at her sternly. “Yes, we would mind. As long as there’s not another cat in here unless it’s dead and stuffed, it’s the perfect…” Ian stopped as the lid came off and he folded back the paper.
Claire’s hand went to her chest. “Oh Saxon…” She looked at Saxon as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Oh Saxon, it’s so…prefect.”
Ian tenderly held the hand knitted sweater and cap to his cheek. “How did you…?”
She couldn’t help but wipe the tear from her own cheek. “I wish I could say I made them myself. She did give me her patterns and taught me as best she could.”
“It is hers?” Claire managed to say.
Saxon nodded her head. “I used to send her thingies of yarn…”
“Thingies of yarn?” Ian laughed through his sniffs, treasures still clutched preciously. “You must be a really good knitting student.”
“Stop.” Saxon scolded him. “I’d send her yarn and a check and she’d whip up a masterpiece and send it back. I’ve stock piled them. It’s a gift I always give to all my dearest that are expecting babies.”
Claire took Saxon in her arms. “Thank you, Saxon. I never dreamed I’d have something from Miss Hilary’s hands for the baby. It was something I was going to miss dearly. Thank you.”
“Hey!” Ian horned in as best he could. “My turn!”
“Ooh! Booties, too!” Claire said and grabbed them as an excuse to get out of the way. When the hug got too long and irritating, she playfully slapped at them with the knitwear. “Okay, break it up. The hoards have got to be getting restless.”
“She’s right.” Saxon pushed Ian away and gathered up the papers and box as Claire tucked Ian back comfortably in the bed.
Claire kissed Ian on the forehead, “Now try and not be a bastard for a few days so we can get you home and keep that stupid cat from driving us all crazy pacing the house meowling for you.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Claire took the gift, back neatly in the package and rolled her eyes as Saxon kissed Ian on the puffy nose.
“See you soon.” She said.
“Thank you for the gift.”
Saxon put up her hand. “You’ll make me cry.”
“Oh gag.” Claire tugged on the woman’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s let him pretend to be weak and at death’s door for someone else.”
They waved to him as they crossed the room. Saxon was the first out and Claire stopped half way, turning back to him. “You have until Saturday,” she pointed at him “Or I’m coming back and kicking your ass…and know I will do it, too.”
“Back tomorrow?” He laughed.
“Whatever.”
She almost lost her balance as Ronnie whizzed past yanking a barely balanced Tippy past her. Claire went directly to Saxon and whispered in her ear. “Can I speak with you alone a moment? I’ve done something and I need your help.”
He was white; white the color of almost transparent blue. His hair was matted in sweat, and he looked as though he’d lost twenty or thirty pounds since the last time she laid eyes on him. He looked so uncomfortable in his body, but his heart was in his eyes, in his smile and they were so happy to be alive.
She just sat there. She perched gently on the edge of the bed, only half her face could be seen. Claire could see her finger slowly inch until it was touching one of his. Her face simply smiled. That smile and slight touch soothed him in the moment it took to breathe.
Finally she reached across the bed and wiped her hand across his forehead. She pushed the soppy hair back in place and he relaxed. His entire body just sighed into place.
She spoke, so softly it was almost silent. “There now.”
He brushed his cheek against her hand before she could take it all away. “I was so ashamed. I couldn’t say anything.”
Her blond curls shifted minutely as she tilted her head. “Ashamed?”
“I thought I was going through withdrawal, all the pain killers I’d been on. I thought the symptoms were…now I feel even more foolish.”
“Sshhh!” She put her finger to his lips as he closed his eyes. “Now we know and it’s being taken care of. No more mood swings, no more pain…just you. That’s all we need again.”
His lips began to tremble. He sat forward and she took him in her arms. Claire, still afraid and shamed to take a breath, watched his body begin to tremble. At first she feared he was crossing over into some kind of diabetic tremor.
Then she heard the sobs, quiet sobs from his shaking body.
She clutched him tighter, closing her eyes and held him as his body wracked against hers, her chest muffling the cries of desperation. She almost couldn’t see her rocking him back and forth, his arms clutching her tight, his heart breaking and his red, heaving face buried in her chest.
He became still. She continued to hold him and he couldn’t let go. She wouldn’t dare let go. Claire knew he’d fall if she did. She leaned against the wall to keep from slipping into floor. She shouldn’t be here. It was too intimate a moment, but if she moved, if a hair fell out of place it would break. It couldn’t break. For once in her life, she knew it couldn’t break.
Ian tried to speak. Saxon couldn’t understand him.
She took her hands and gently pulled his head up to look in his eyes. “What?”
“Make it stop.” He said. “Please. Make it stop.” From her hiding place in plain sight she could see the pain in his eyes, red and puffy, barely hanging on dripping wet white, white cheeks.
“I wish I could.”
Ian sighed, the sigh when a child catches his own breath not sure if more tears are coming or if his little heart isn’t through breaking yet. Saxon looked in his eyes.
Claire watched Saxon look in Ian’s eyes, still holding his head up, and him still holding on to her for dear life. “You can do this. You can.”
He nodded his head slightly. Her voice, in a quiet strength that fed him life, spoke. “In a few short days you are going to be physically strong again. You’ll be able to put one foot in front of the other and not have to worry about what’s going on inside your body, inside your head. You can do this.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. She closed her eyes and put her forehead on his, still gently cradling his head, and his arms still holding her oh so tight. “I will.”
With her eyes closed, she smiled. He began to breathe, not just take a breath, but breathe. The world stood still another moment.
They were hesitant at first but they finally let go of each other. The world didn’t crash as Claire almost believed it would.
Ian relaxed against the bed. Saxon tilted herself back, as though there had never been a need to hold the pieces together. Claire reached behind her for the doorknob, quietly twisting and opening. As soon as she saw Superman, she pulled the door shut again.
“Knock knock.” She said almost timidly. “Do you mind if I pop in long enough to say hello?”
“Claire.” Ian smiled genuinely and reached out his arms to her.
She tried not to cry as Saxon slipped off the bed and stepped back to let her fall into his waiting arms. She closed her eyes to shield the tears, forcing them to fall behind her eyes. She felt the clamminess of his body, but the strength of Ian Justyn’s arms gripped her.
And she gave up.
Claire gave up the dream that she was what Ian needed. It hurt like hell, but she knew that she could never have participated in what she just witnessed and have had the same outcome. She then had the push herself away from him or someone would have to hold the pieces that were left of her together.
“Ronnie will be right in.”
“Is he alright?” Ian asked as he leaned back on his bed, but held on to her hand.
“He’s fine. A little excited.”
Saxon tapped on the bed. “I’ll slip on out and let him come in.”
Claire gently grabbed her forearm. “No. You stay. I just slipped in for a moment, just long enough to see for my own eyes that Superman was alive and well and taking up bed space in Metropolis.” Ian tugged her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “You look…awful.”
Ian laughed. She loved it when she made him laugh. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Don’t apologize to me.” Claire said. “Apologize to poor Rodie. I thought that fur ball was going to have some kind of seizure, racing around the house every little hair standing on end, spitting and clawing. Tippy had to call a vet and get something to calm the damn thing down.”
“Poor varmint.” Ian said. “Tell her I’ll give her a big wave from the other side of the room when I get home.” Concern finally came over his face. “Your mother…Miss Glo…you were on the phone…”
“Stop! Stop…” Claire said. “Mama is fine. She’s pissed at you for trying to drop dead on us…again. We’ll pick her up on Friday night and she’ll be working on some hand gestures for your homecoming this weekend.”
“She’s good then?”
“She’s wonderful.” Claire smiled. “Thank you.” She felt the now familiar uncomfortable, giddy rumble. Involuntarily her hand went to the spot on her belly. “Oh ma God.”
“Claire?” Saxon’s hands went to Claire’s shoulder and when she focused her eyes she saw the concern on Ian’s face.
“Oh not to worry. It just always comes when you least expect it.” Claire took Ian’s hand and put it on her tummy. “Some one just decided they wanted you to know they’re happy you’re fine.”
“Is that…?” Ian’s face filled with wonder as Claire nodded. “Oh my…” Ian’s eyes darted up to meet Claire’s. “It feels like there’s a whole chorus line going on in there.”
“You should feel it from my end.” Claire said. She smiled and looked at Saxon, and felt the bit of unease. Claire reached out, taking Saxon’s hand and placed it next to Ian’s. “Can you feel him?”
Saxon let out a verbal breath.
“Him?” Ian looked at her. “It’s a boy?”
“I…uh…I don’t know.”
“With a kick like that,” Saxon took her hand away. “It’s got to be a boy, or a girl already wearing high heels.”
“That would definitely be Ian’s son and my daughter.” Claire remembered. “Oh…” she reached for her purse. “Look what I have.”
Ian looked at the brightly wrapped package she pulled from her purse. “A gift for me?”
“Yeah.” Claire teased. “You need another silver rattle, moron.” She gently tapped his cheek. “The first real gift for our baby…from their Auntie Kleenex Girl.”
“Stop.” Saxon gave Claire a playful shove.
“Saxon, that is so sweet. Thank you.” Ian grinned.
“Help me open it?” Claire said.
“Uh…” Saxon hesitated. “Look, maybe you should wait. Remember we’re not supposed to get him too excited.”
“Nonsense.” Ian reached for the box and started to rip the paper.
“Ian…” Saxon bit her lip and tried to keep him from opening it. “Ian, Claire…I’m thinking maybe I chose the wrong thing…would you mind…”
“Yes…” Ian looked at her sternly. “Yes, we would mind. As long as there’s not another cat in here unless it’s dead and stuffed, it’s the perfect…” Ian stopped as the lid came off and he folded back the paper.
Claire’s hand went to her chest. “Oh Saxon…” She looked at Saxon as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Oh Saxon, it’s so…prefect.”
Ian tenderly held the hand knitted sweater and cap to his cheek. “How did you…?”
She couldn’t help but wipe the tear from her own cheek. “I wish I could say I made them myself. She did give me her patterns and taught me as best she could.”
“It is hers?” Claire managed to say.
Saxon nodded her head. “I used to send her thingies of yarn…”
“Thingies of yarn?” Ian laughed through his sniffs, treasures still clutched preciously. “You must be a really good knitting student.”
“Stop.” Saxon scolded him. “I’d send her yarn and a check and she’d whip up a masterpiece and send it back. I’ve stock piled them. It’s a gift I always give to all my dearest that are expecting babies.”
Claire took Saxon in her arms. “Thank you, Saxon. I never dreamed I’d have something from Miss Hilary’s hands for the baby. It was something I was going to miss dearly. Thank you.”
“Hey!” Ian horned in as best he could. “My turn!”
“Ooh! Booties, too!” Claire said and grabbed them as an excuse to get out of the way. When the hug got too long and irritating, she playfully slapped at them with the knitwear. “Okay, break it up. The hoards have got to be getting restless.”
“She’s right.” Saxon pushed Ian away and gathered up the papers and box as Claire tucked Ian back comfortably in the bed.
Claire kissed Ian on the forehead, “Now try and not be a bastard for a few days so we can get you home and keep that stupid cat from driving us all crazy pacing the house meowling for you.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Claire took the gift, back neatly in the package and rolled her eyes as Saxon kissed Ian on the puffy nose.
“See you soon.” She said.
“Thank you for the gift.”
Saxon put up her hand. “You’ll make me cry.”
“Oh gag.” Claire tugged on the woman’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s let him pretend to be weak and at death’s door for someone else.”
They waved to him as they crossed the room. Saxon was the first out and Claire stopped half way, turning back to him. “You have until Saturday,” she pointed at him “Or I’m coming back and kicking your ass…and know I will do it, too.”
“Back tomorrow?” He laughed.
“Whatever.”
She almost lost her balance as Ronnie whizzed past yanking a barely balanced Tippy past her. Claire went directly to Saxon and whispered in her ear. “Can I speak with you alone a moment? I’ve done something and I need your help.”
Vignette #213: Virtuous Zoo
“Oh sweetheart!” Tippy wrapped herself around the stunning blond. “He’ll be so happy you came!”
“I couldn’t stay away.” Saxon smiled as she squeezed the woman tighter, ignoring a seething Claire standing right beside her. “How is he?”
Tippy held the woman back to look in her face and smiled. “Once they get some kind of mumbo jumbo straightened out, he’ll be just fine. Until then he’s hot and sweaty one minute then freezing to death the next.”
Saxon nodded her head and bent down to give Ronnie a hug. “Hey there, boyfriend. How you hangin’ in?”
“Not bad.” Ronnie almost refused to let go. “We have missed you.”
She kissed the boy’s forehead and touched his nose playfully with her finger. “I’ve been a busy girl. You’ve not been around when I’m working. I don’t get out much when I’m doing a movie. That’s pretty much all I concentrate on.”
“You’re makin’ a movie?” Ronnie smiled.
“Yup, working very hard.” Saxon brushed his curly black hair behind his ear. “But that doesn’t mean you are not always on my mind. So kid, how’s your Papa?”
“I haven’t seen him yet. He’s not been letting anyone in, until tonight. They’ll let two of us go in at a time.”
“Well point me to the back of the line and I’ll patiently wait my turn, although patience is one of my weaker virtues.”
Tippy smiled at her. “No one’s gone in yet. The doctor is in with him. We’re all just waiting for him to come out.”
Saxon’s eyes finally connected with Claire’s. “Claire.”
Claire plastered on a smile. “Saxon.”
Saxon opened her rather large purse and extracted a brightly wrapped gift with a silver rattle hanging on the bow. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to give this to you in person. It’s for the baby, of course.”
“Of course.” She said as she accepted the gift, after a not so subtle elbow from Tippy. “Thank you, Saxon. I’m sure it’s wonderful. I’ll wait and open this with Ian.”
“Of course.” Saxon looked at the floor a moment and then back up at Claire. “Look, I know we are never going to be besties, but like it or not we are both going to be knocking in and out of each other’s lives. I hope we can at least learn not to make each other as uncomfortable as possible when it inevitably happens.”
“You mean because of Ian?”
“And because of Ronnie, and Tippy and Colton, the whole family. My world is incomplete without them. Let’s not punish ourselves or each other just because our hearts travel in the same circles.”
Claire grinned. “One of us could just not travel in the same circle.”
Ripley looked at Claire. “That sounds good to me. We’ll miss you Claire.”
“Alright!” Colton stepped in. “Let’s not do this. Ian does not need any member of his family to be at another’s throat any more than he needs one to no longer be there.”
“You’re right.” Claire bit her lip. “I’m sorry, old habits die hard. Saxon, thank you very much for the gift and for suggesting that we try harder to, for lack of a better term, get along. Not just for Ian’s sake, but for ours too, I will do my best.”
“So will I.” Saxon tried to genuinely smile. “It must be getting close, do you need help with getting things ready for the baby?”
“Uhm…” Claire looked at Tippy.
“You know how our life is darlin’, everything is full speed ahead then Ian passes out and everything gets put on the back burner.” Tippy put her arm around Claire and squeezed.
“But we’ve picked out furniture and stuff. We’re just trying to figure out where to put the nursery.” Claire added. “Billy got some plans of the house from the town hall or something, and as soon as Ian gets back on his feet we’ll make a decision and get it done.”
“When exactly is your due date?” Saxon asked.
“Well…”
The door to Ian’s hospital room opened and the doctor stepped out, immediately causing the crowd to shift attention. “Ian is doing well. His levels seem to be stabilizing. We’ll need to keep a very close watch on him, monitoring him every hour for the next 24, but if he continues to improve we will be more than happy to send him home by the weekend.”
“He must be feeling better.” Jesse spoke up. “He’s already being a pain in the butt.”
“Oh, he doesn’t have be to feeling good to be a major pain in any body part.” Wella retorted. “God bless him.”
“He’s ready to see family and friends, so you may all go in…no more than two at a time.” The doctor warned. “It is important that he remain as calm and stress free as possible.”
“He’s in the hospital doctor. That stresses him out.” Billy informed him.
“That’s why it’s important not to add anything else to the stress factor. Keep it light, keep it as normal as possible.”
“As normal as possible?” Ronnie looked up at the doctor. “Then maybe we should all go in at the same time. Two by two is kinda Noah’s Ark and he may freak.”
“That’s the rule, young man. Give me another 24 hours and maybe, maybe I’ll throw open the doors to the whole zoo, but for tonight, two at a time. Now do I hand out tickets or can you decide who goes in first quietly and peacefully?”
“Not a problem, Doctor.” Tippy smiled. “Sugar Plum, you and Saxon run right in and see your Papa.”
“Well, that was easier than I thought.” The doctor smiled. “Now remember, keep the stress level as low as possible.”
“Do we have a time limit, Mr. Doctor?” Ronnie looked up in the man’s face.
He grinned and rubbed the young boy’s head. “No young man, just remember there are other people waiting to see your father. The time limit is visiting hours, but as long as everyone does their best to keep him calm I think a chat with his loved ones is better medicine than anything I could give him right now.”
Ronnie grabbed Saxon hand. “Let’s go!”
“Wait, honey.” Saxon held him back. “I think you should go in, but I should wait and let someone else go with you.”
“No. No.” Ronnie tugged. “Granny is right. It should be you and me first, besides you’re making a movie. You probably need to get home and study or something.”
“Uhh…” Saxon looked at the people in the waiting room. “Is this okay with everyone?”
“Well…” Claire began to speak up.
Tippy slipped her arms all the way around Claire and put her hand over her mouth. “Of course, dear. You run right in. We know you want to see him and he’ll want to see you plus we all know you need to get back to your busy schedule.”
“If you are sure…” Saxon hesitated.
Tippy forced Claire’s head into a nod.
“Come on!” Ronnie yanked Saxon’s arm and headed for the door.
“Sugar Plum…” Tippy gave the boy a loving reminder. “Remember the doctor said calm…”
“Right.” Ronnie took a deep breath. “Right. Shall we go then?” He looked up at Saxon, still holding her hand tight.
“Alright...let's go.” She said and walked with him to the door. She put her hand on the knob, looking down at the boy. “Ready?”
“Wait!” Ronnie said. “I’m so excited I have to use the bathroom…uh…you go on in. Tell Papa I’ll be right there.”
Before Saxon could say anything, Ronnie opened the door to his father’s hospital room, shoved her in and shut the door behind him, leaning against it with a smile.
“You little rat.” Colton grinned.
“What is it Papa always says?” Ronnie kept the door barred shut. “God only made me look stupid.”
Finally breaking away from Tippy’s grip, Claire fumed. “Well, I for one am not standing for this. I should have been one of the first ones in and if Ronnie’s not going…”
“Why?” Reese piped up.
“Why what?”
“Why should you have been the first one in?”
“Because I’m his…” Clare put her foot down.
“You’re his…?” Tippy raised his eyebrow. “…What?”
Claire let out the breath she realized she was holding. “Because…I’m his…fine…I’ll be realistic here, I’m his knocked up bimbo…but doesn’t that mean something?”
Colton put his arm around the young woman. “Of course it does and we know you are trying. We’ve all seen it.”
“But while we are being realistic, you have to know why Saxon had to go in first.” Tippy tried to use as sweet and understanding a tone as possible.
“But alone?” Claire couldn’t help but be unhappy. “I don’t think so. I may have decided to call a truce but if that woman is allowed to make a move…”
“You just insist on being the brown crayon in a box of purple, don’t you?” Tippy blurted. “Honey, you have to know when it comes to Saxon and Ian, that war is over before you can even draw up the first battle plan.”
“But I don’t have to like it and I don’t have to just stand around and let it happen.” She seethed.
“Yes, Claire.” Colton nodded. “Yes, you do.”
“I will under no circumstances…”
Ronnie looked up at her. “Miss Claire? Forgive me for interrupting, but I need to ask you something.”
“Fine, Ronnie. What?” She crossed her hands across her belly.
“You said you want to try and be good friends with Papa?”
She stumbled a moment remembering their earlier conversation. “Yes, Ronnie, yes I do, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m going to give up on the possibility of the two of us being a couple.”
“I understand.” Ronnie stepped away from the door. “Go in then.”
“What?” Claire straightened up as much as she could.
“Go ahead in with Saxon. I’ll wait until one of you comes out." Ronnie motioned to the door. "Go on.”
“No, honey, you should go in.” As much as she hated it, Claire knew that Ronnie needed to go in to his father. “You’re Papa needs you right now, not me. I’ll wait.”
“No. I insist.” Ronnie said. “I think you should go in first…please?”
The family all looked amongst each other. “Ronnie, are you sure?” Colton asked him.
The boy nodded his head. “It’s the right thing, for Miss Claire and my Papa.”
Claire hesitated just a moment, looking with bewilderment at the group. Tippy finally nodded her head. “Well, okay. I won’t stay long though.” She looked at Ronnie. “I know you need to go right in.”
She reached for the doorknob but stopped and kissed the boy on the forehead. "Thank you, Ronnie.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Claire quietly opened the door and slipped in.
“Ronnie, why did you do that?” Tippy couldn’t help be ask as they heard the door quietly click shut.
“Because it was the right thing to do.” Ronnie stepped to his Granny’s arms. “She has to see what we see. Then maybe they’ll see it for themselves.”
“I couldn’t stay away.” Saxon smiled as she squeezed the woman tighter, ignoring a seething Claire standing right beside her. “How is he?”
Tippy held the woman back to look in her face and smiled. “Once they get some kind of mumbo jumbo straightened out, he’ll be just fine. Until then he’s hot and sweaty one minute then freezing to death the next.”
Saxon nodded her head and bent down to give Ronnie a hug. “Hey there, boyfriend. How you hangin’ in?”
“Not bad.” Ronnie almost refused to let go. “We have missed you.”
She kissed the boy’s forehead and touched his nose playfully with her finger. “I’ve been a busy girl. You’ve not been around when I’m working. I don’t get out much when I’m doing a movie. That’s pretty much all I concentrate on.”
“You’re makin’ a movie?” Ronnie smiled.
“Yup, working very hard.” Saxon brushed his curly black hair behind his ear. “But that doesn’t mean you are not always on my mind. So kid, how’s your Papa?”
“I haven’t seen him yet. He’s not been letting anyone in, until tonight. They’ll let two of us go in at a time.”
“Well point me to the back of the line and I’ll patiently wait my turn, although patience is one of my weaker virtues.”
Tippy smiled at her. “No one’s gone in yet. The doctor is in with him. We’re all just waiting for him to come out.”
Saxon’s eyes finally connected with Claire’s. “Claire.”
Claire plastered on a smile. “Saxon.”
Saxon opened her rather large purse and extracted a brightly wrapped gift with a silver rattle hanging on the bow. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to give this to you in person. It’s for the baby, of course.”
“Of course.” She said as she accepted the gift, after a not so subtle elbow from Tippy. “Thank you, Saxon. I’m sure it’s wonderful. I’ll wait and open this with Ian.”
“Of course.” Saxon looked at the floor a moment and then back up at Claire. “Look, I know we are never going to be besties, but like it or not we are both going to be knocking in and out of each other’s lives. I hope we can at least learn not to make each other as uncomfortable as possible when it inevitably happens.”
“You mean because of Ian?”
“And because of Ronnie, and Tippy and Colton, the whole family. My world is incomplete without them. Let’s not punish ourselves or each other just because our hearts travel in the same circles.”
Claire grinned. “One of us could just not travel in the same circle.”
Ripley looked at Claire. “That sounds good to me. We’ll miss you Claire.”
“Alright!” Colton stepped in. “Let’s not do this. Ian does not need any member of his family to be at another’s throat any more than he needs one to no longer be there.”
“You’re right.” Claire bit her lip. “I’m sorry, old habits die hard. Saxon, thank you very much for the gift and for suggesting that we try harder to, for lack of a better term, get along. Not just for Ian’s sake, but for ours too, I will do my best.”
“So will I.” Saxon tried to genuinely smile. “It must be getting close, do you need help with getting things ready for the baby?”
“Uhm…” Claire looked at Tippy.
“You know how our life is darlin’, everything is full speed ahead then Ian passes out and everything gets put on the back burner.” Tippy put her arm around Claire and squeezed.
“But we’ve picked out furniture and stuff. We’re just trying to figure out where to put the nursery.” Claire added. “Billy got some plans of the house from the town hall or something, and as soon as Ian gets back on his feet we’ll make a decision and get it done.”
“When exactly is your due date?” Saxon asked.
“Well…”
The door to Ian’s hospital room opened and the doctor stepped out, immediately causing the crowd to shift attention. “Ian is doing well. His levels seem to be stabilizing. We’ll need to keep a very close watch on him, monitoring him every hour for the next 24, but if he continues to improve we will be more than happy to send him home by the weekend.”
“He must be feeling better.” Jesse spoke up. “He’s already being a pain in the butt.”
“Oh, he doesn’t have be to feeling good to be a major pain in any body part.” Wella retorted. “God bless him.”
“He’s ready to see family and friends, so you may all go in…no more than two at a time.” The doctor warned. “It is important that he remain as calm and stress free as possible.”
“He’s in the hospital doctor. That stresses him out.” Billy informed him.
“That’s why it’s important not to add anything else to the stress factor. Keep it light, keep it as normal as possible.”
“As normal as possible?” Ronnie looked up at the doctor. “Then maybe we should all go in at the same time. Two by two is kinda Noah’s Ark and he may freak.”
“That’s the rule, young man. Give me another 24 hours and maybe, maybe I’ll throw open the doors to the whole zoo, but for tonight, two at a time. Now do I hand out tickets or can you decide who goes in first quietly and peacefully?”
“Not a problem, Doctor.” Tippy smiled. “Sugar Plum, you and Saxon run right in and see your Papa.”
“Well, that was easier than I thought.” The doctor smiled. “Now remember, keep the stress level as low as possible.”
“Do we have a time limit, Mr. Doctor?” Ronnie looked up in the man’s face.
He grinned and rubbed the young boy’s head. “No young man, just remember there are other people waiting to see your father. The time limit is visiting hours, but as long as everyone does their best to keep him calm I think a chat with his loved ones is better medicine than anything I could give him right now.”
Ronnie grabbed Saxon hand. “Let’s go!”
“Wait, honey.” Saxon held him back. “I think you should go in, but I should wait and let someone else go with you.”
“No. No.” Ronnie tugged. “Granny is right. It should be you and me first, besides you’re making a movie. You probably need to get home and study or something.”
“Uhh…” Saxon looked at the people in the waiting room. “Is this okay with everyone?”
“Well…” Claire began to speak up.
Tippy slipped her arms all the way around Claire and put her hand over her mouth. “Of course, dear. You run right in. We know you want to see him and he’ll want to see you plus we all know you need to get back to your busy schedule.”
“If you are sure…” Saxon hesitated.
Tippy forced Claire’s head into a nod.
“Come on!” Ronnie yanked Saxon’s arm and headed for the door.
“Sugar Plum…” Tippy gave the boy a loving reminder. “Remember the doctor said calm…”
“Right.” Ronnie took a deep breath. “Right. Shall we go then?” He looked up at Saxon, still holding her hand tight.
“Alright...let's go.” She said and walked with him to the door. She put her hand on the knob, looking down at the boy. “Ready?”
“Wait!” Ronnie said. “I’m so excited I have to use the bathroom…uh…you go on in. Tell Papa I’ll be right there.”
Before Saxon could say anything, Ronnie opened the door to his father’s hospital room, shoved her in and shut the door behind him, leaning against it with a smile.
“You little rat.” Colton grinned.
“What is it Papa always says?” Ronnie kept the door barred shut. “God only made me look stupid.”
Finally breaking away from Tippy’s grip, Claire fumed. “Well, I for one am not standing for this. I should have been one of the first ones in and if Ronnie’s not going…”
“Why?” Reese piped up.
“Why what?”
“Why should you have been the first one in?”
“Because I’m his…” Clare put her foot down.
“You’re his…?” Tippy raised his eyebrow. “…What?”
Claire let out the breath she realized she was holding. “Because…I’m his…fine…I’ll be realistic here, I’m his knocked up bimbo…but doesn’t that mean something?”
Colton put his arm around the young woman. “Of course it does and we know you are trying. We’ve all seen it.”
“But while we are being realistic, you have to know why Saxon had to go in first.” Tippy tried to use as sweet and understanding a tone as possible.
“But alone?” Claire couldn’t help but be unhappy. “I don’t think so. I may have decided to call a truce but if that woman is allowed to make a move…”
“You just insist on being the brown crayon in a box of purple, don’t you?” Tippy blurted. “Honey, you have to know when it comes to Saxon and Ian, that war is over before you can even draw up the first battle plan.”
“But I don’t have to like it and I don’t have to just stand around and let it happen.” She seethed.
“Yes, Claire.” Colton nodded. “Yes, you do.”
“I will under no circumstances…”
Ronnie looked up at her. “Miss Claire? Forgive me for interrupting, but I need to ask you something.”
“Fine, Ronnie. What?” She crossed her hands across her belly.
“You said you want to try and be good friends with Papa?”
She stumbled a moment remembering their earlier conversation. “Yes, Ronnie, yes I do, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m going to give up on the possibility of the two of us being a couple.”
“I understand.” Ronnie stepped away from the door. “Go in then.”
“What?” Claire straightened up as much as she could.
“Go ahead in with Saxon. I’ll wait until one of you comes out." Ronnie motioned to the door. "Go on.”
“No, honey, you should go in.” As much as she hated it, Claire knew that Ronnie needed to go in to his father. “You’re Papa needs you right now, not me. I’ll wait.”
“No. I insist.” Ronnie said. “I think you should go in first…please?”
The family all looked amongst each other. “Ronnie, are you sure?” Colton asked him.
The boy nodded his head. “It’s the right thing, for Miss Claire and my Papa.”
Claire hesitated just a moment, looking with bewilderment at the group. Tippy finally nodded her head. “Well, okay. I won’t stay long though.” She looked at Ronnie. “I know you need to go right in.”
She reached for the doorknob but stopped and kissed the boy on the forehead. "Thank you, Ronnie.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Claire quietly opened the door and slipped in.
“Ronnie, why did you do that?” Tippy couldn’t help be ask as they heard the door quietly click shut.
“Because it was the right thing to do.” Ronnie stepped to his Granny’s arms. “She has to see what we see. Then maybe they’ll see it for themselves.”
Vignette #212: Father's Son
She found him sitting on the edge of the deck in the backyard. A rag, a toothbrush, a bucket of water and a screwdriver were at his side as she gently touched his shoulder. “What’cha doin’?”
He didn’t look up. “Cleanin’ the weed eater.”
“Why?”
“It’s dirty.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You are your father’s son.”
Ronnie finally looked up at her and smiled back.
“Can I sit with you a minute?” She asked.
“Sure.” He said picking up the bucket and sitting it in the grass to make room for her.
“Can you help a pregnant lady get down there?” He giggled and she grunted as they managed to get her down. “Thanks…Puppy.”
He nodded and went back to using the toothbrush on the clumps stuck on the mechanical thing Claire wasn’t really sure actually did. “Your Papa is going to be fine.”
“I know.” He didn’t look up.
“Do you understand what diabetes is?”
“Yes.” He looked up at her. “I think so.”
“It’s alright to be scared.” She tried to find words to help the boy express his feelings as she fretted that she would never get the hang of this. “I know I am.”
Ronnie nodded his head. “I more worried than scared, Miss Claire. He’s been through a lot, my Papa.”
“And so have you.” She put her hand gently on his chin and pulled his eyes to hers and said it again.
“I’ve been scared, and I’ve been worried but only a few times. Papa’s lived in fear from the day he was born.” He voice quivered just a bit. “I want it to stop, but I don’t know what to do.”
Claire sighed. “I’m not sure either, but I think if we just love him and let him know no matter what we’re gonna be there, we’ll all come out of this just fine.”
“Why won’t they let me see him?”
“Ronnie, I think that was kind of his choice, not the doctors.”
“But why?”
“Well…” Claire wasn’t sure herself, so she tried to come up with an explanation that would soothe them both. “…Vanity.”
“What?”
She gave him a playful shove with her shoulder. “You know how your Papa likes everyone to believe he’s Superman? Well, what he’s going through right now isn’t pretty. If we see him all sweaty and shaky we’d probably realize he’s human and you know that’s the last thing he wants.”
Ronnie giggled. “You know, you’re pretty good at this.”
“I am?” Claire wrinkled her nose.
“Yeah. You’re gonna be a good mother.”
“I hope so. I’ve kinda messed everything else up, and I don’t know anything about this so I’ll just have to make it up as I go along.”
“That’s what Papa does.” He assured her.
“He does?”
“Superman didn’t get the handbook either.” Ronnie looked at Claire. “So do you hope it’s a girl or a boy?”
“Personally, I don’t care. I am so tired of being pregnant. I just want to get it out of me!” Clare looked at her tummy as she rubbed it. “What do you want, a brother or a sister?”
Ronnie bit his lip. “Between you and me? I hope it’s a boy, with Vonnie and Grandma we haven’t got the energy for another girl around here.”
Claire threw back her head and laughed. “Ronnie, some times I think you’re the most mature person in this whole family.”
Ronnie threw up his hands. “All I have to do is sit back and let everyone prove it…time after time after time.”
“So, you want to go see Ian?”
His eyes lit up. “Yes!”
“Good news then.” Claire patted the boy’s knee. “I didn’t come back just so Reese could get the hospital. I was told to make sure you had a great dinner and then bring you to see your father.”
“Mean it?”
“Well, I’m not too good a cook, so the great dinner I can’t promise, but I can take you to see Ian just as soon as I figure out how to open a few cans.”
Ronnie slipped his arm around her and put his head on her shoulder, a move that genuinely touched her. “We’ll do it together. That’s what family is for.”
“That’s something I’m learning…slowly, but I swear to God I am trying to learn.”
“Miss Claire?” Ronnie didn’t move his head from her shoulder. “Do you love my Papa?”
Claire sighed. “Honey, I thought so. I was so sure, but the one thing I have learned recently is that I’m not real sure of anything.” She rubbed his shoulder with the hand from her arm that wrapped tightly around him.
“I was Daddy’s little girl. Anything I wanted he provided with extra sunshine. Now, that’s not to say that I didn’t love my Mama, but let’s face it, she’s a little cold. He was always the glowing warmth in our home.”
She placed her head on top of his. “When my Daddy died, I didn’t think I could live then along came your Papa, the one man on the face of the Earth that didn’t seem to know I existed no matter how hard I tried. He was, he is so much like my Daddy. Unfortunately I’m so much like my Mama. I thought we balanced each other out, the perfect match. Like my parents. I’m pretty sure I messed that up, too, but I think maybe if we try we can be the perfect friends. I’d like that.”
“Me, too.” Ronnie sighed with her. “Ya know I’m kinda hungry.”
“Well, if the two of us can manage to get me out of this position maybe we can get in the kitchen and feed ourselves.”
It took them several tries and several minutes, but they finally managed to get Claire upright again. They quickly cleaned up after Ronnie’s cleaning up and found themselves giggling. They found themselves having fun making a simple chicken casserole, tossing in some frozen broccoli to convince themselves it was healthy.
As they set the table for two Claire finally admitted out loud. “I’m certainly glad that Ian’s problem is as simple as diabetes, not to belittle that terrible disease, but it is manageable. What really yanks my chain about this whole episode is the only person allowed near your Papa is Ripley. Why is that? Why not you or even me?”
Ronnie looked up at Clare. “It’s his job, Miss Claire.”
“His job?” She pulled out a chair from the table and plunked down. “I thought he cooked and cleaned for his paycheck.”
“Naw.” Ronnie giggled. “He does that cause he loves us, and he enjoys it. His job is to keep us safe. He’s our live in body guard.”
It was Claire’s turn to giggle. “Body guard? What does Ian need a bodyguard for? Sure he’s getting more and more famous by the day, but I haven’t noticed throngs of people trying to rip his clothes off at the supermarket or sneaking in the house to snip off locks of his hair.”
Ronnie pulled the chair out beside her and sat down. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Miss Claire, someone is trying to kill my Papa.”
Her face fell. “Oh come on. So one time some one broke in the house. I think hiring a body guard is just a little excessive.”
“I’m not supposed to know, but I do. You’d be surprised what I know but am not supposed to. Sometimes the adults think that just because Vonnie and I aren’t over five foot tall we don’t understand what’s going on. We may be short but we can hear whispered conversations a mile off.” He said very seriously.
“I’m sure that…”
“No. Someone is seriously wants Papa dead. They’ve probably tried several times. The F.B.I. is involved.”
Claire tried to marginalize the boy’s statements by patting him on the hand and saying, “I’m sure you’ve just misunderstood some partial conversations.
“No, ma’am. I’m have not.” Ronnie remained steadfast. “They don’t know who it is, but every day they are getting a little closer. They don’t know the guy’s name yet but they do know for sure he works at the network.”
“HRT?”
The boy nodded his head. “He’s done this before at other places. He comes into a company and steals money and kills people. Then he disappears. They know of at least four people he’s already killed, people he gets to do his dirty work or people who can identify him. That’s why he’s been hard to catch. He never does the bad stuff, he gets other people to do it and then he kills them.”
“I’m confused Ronnie.” Claire took his hand. “You’re father stole money from HRT?”
“No, no.” Ronnie tried to explain. “I’m not exactly sure how or why, but this guy always finds someone in the company to blame everything on so he has time to get away or something. They think he was trying to blame what he did at HRT on my Papa or he thinks Papa’s on to him, something like that.”
“You’re sure of this?” Ronnie nodded his head. “Why hasn’t anyone said anything to me?”
Ronnie shrugged his shoulders. “I think that’s why Papa had you move in here with us, to make sure you and the baby are safe. As long as Uncle Ripley has an eye on us, nothing can happen.”
“And you’re sure no one knows who this person is?” Claire asked to be certain.
“Everyone they know of who can identify him or has had any kind of contact ends up dead…everyone.”
Ronnie went silent. Which was a good thing, because suddenly the voices in Claire’s head got very, very loud.
He didn’t look up. “Cleanin’ the weed eater.”
“Why?”
“It’s dirty.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You are your father’s son.”
Ronnie finally looked up at her and smiled back.
“Can I sit with you a minute?” She asked.
“Sure.” He said picking up the bucket and sitting it in the grass to make room for her.
“Can you help a pregnant lady get down there?” He giggled and she grunted as they managed to get her down. “Thanks…Puppy.”
He nodded and went back to using the toothbrush on the clumps stuck on the mechanical thing Claire wasn’t really sure actually did. “Your Papa is going to be fine.”
“I know.” He didn’t look up.
“Do you understand what diabetes is?”
“Yes.” He looked up at her. “I think so.”
“It’s alright to be scared.” She tried to find words to help the boy express his feelings as she fretted that she would never get the hang of this. “I know I am.”
Ronnie nodded his head. “I more worried than scared, Miss Claire. He’s been through a lot, my Papa.”
“And so have you.” She put her hand gently on his chin and pulled his eyes to hers and said it again.
“I’ve been scared, and I’ve been worried but only a few times. Papa’s lived in fear from the day he was born.” He voice quivered just a bit. “I want it to stop, but I don’t know what to do.”
Claire sighed. “I’m not sure either, but I think if we just love him and let him know no matter what we’re gonna be there, we’ll all come out of this just fine.”
“Why won’t they let me see him?”
“Ronnie, I think that was kind of his choice, not the doctors.”
“But why?”
“Well…” Claire wasn’t sure herself, so she tried to come up with an explanation that would soothe them both. “…Vanity.”
“What?”
She gave him a playful shove with her shoulder. “You know how your Papa likes everyone to believe he’s Superman? Well, what he’s going through right now isn’t pretty. If we see him all sweaty and shaky we’d probably realize he’s human and you know that’s the last thing he wants.”
Ronnie giggled. “You know, you’re pretty good at this.”
“I am?” Claire wrinkled her nose.
“Yeah. You’re gonna be a good mother.”
“I hope so. I’ve kinda messed everything else up, and I don’t know anything about this so I’ll just have to make it up as I go along.”
“That’s what Papa does.” He assured her.
“He does?”
“Superman didn’t get the handbook either.” Ronnie looked at Claire. “So do you hope it’s a girl or a boy?”
“Personally, I don’t care. I am so tired of being pregnant. I just want to get it out of me!” Clare looked at her tummy as she rubbed it. “What do you want, a brother or a sister?”
Ronnie bit his lip. “Between you and me? I hope it’s a boy, with Vonnie and Grandma we haven’t got the energy for another girl around here.”
Claire threw back her head and laughed. “Ronnie, some times I think you’re the most mature person in this whole family.”
Ronnie threw up his hands. “All I have to do is sit back and let everyone prove it…time after time after time.”
“So, you want to go see Ian?”
His eyes lit up. “Yes!”
“Good news then.” Claire patted the boy’s knee. “I didn’t come back just so Reese could get the hospital. I was told to make sure you had a great dinner and then bring you to see your father.”
“Mean it?”
“Well, I’m not too good a cook, so the great dinner I can’t promise, but I can take you to see Ian just as soon as I figure out how to open a few cans.”
Ronnie slipped his arm around her and put his head on her shoulder, a move that genuinely touched her. “We’ll do it together. That’s what family is for.”
“That’s something I’m learning…slowly, but I swear to God I am trying to learn.”
“Miss Claire?” Ronnie didn’t move his head from her shoulder. “Do you love my Papa?”
Claire sighed. “Honey, I thought so. I was so sure, but the one thing I have learned recently is that I’m not real sure of anything.” She rubbed his shoulder with the hand from her arm that wrapped tightly around him.
“I was Daddy’s little girl. Anything I wanted he provided with extra sunshine. Now, that’s not to say that I didn’t love my Mama, but let’s face it, she’s a little cold. He was always the glowing warmth in our home.”
She placed her head on top of his. “When my Daddy died, I didn’t think I could live then along came your Papa, the one man on the face of the Earth that didn’t seem to know I existed no matter how hard I tried. He was, he is so much like my Daddy. Unfortunately I’m so much like my Mama. I thought we balanced each other out, the perfect match. Like my parents. I’m pretty sure I messed that up, too, but I think maybe if we try we can be the perfect friends. I’d like that.”
“Me, too.” Ronnie sighed with her. “Ya know I’m kinda hungry.”
“Well, if the two of us can manage to get me out of this position maybe we can get in the kitchen and feed ourselves.”
It took them several tries and several minutes, but they finally managed to get Claire upright again. They quickly cleaned up after Ronnie’s cleaning up and found themselves giggling. They found themselves having fun making a simple chicken casserole, tossing in some frozen broccoli to convince themselves it was healthy.
As they set the table for two Claire finally admitted out loud. “I’m certainly glad that Ian’s problem is as simple as diabetes, not to belittle that terrible disease, but it is manageable. What really yanks my chain about this whole episode is the only person allowed near your Papa is Ripley. Why is that? Why not you or even me?”
Ronnie looked up at Clare. “It’s his job, Miss Claire.”
“His job?” She pulled out a chair from the table and plunked down. “I thought he cooked and cleaned for his paycheck.”
“Naw.” Ronnie giggled. “He does that cause he loves us, and he enjoys it. His job is to keep us safe. He’s our live in body guard.”
It was Claire’s turn to giggle. “Body guard? What does Ian need a bodyguard for? Sure he’s getting more and more famous by the day, but I haven’t noticed throngs of people trying to rip his clothes off at the supermarket or sneaking in the house to snip off locks of his hair.”
Ronnie pulled the chair out beside her and sat down. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Miss Claire, someone is trying to kill my Papa.”
Her face fell. “Oh come on. So one time some one broke in the house. I think hiring a body guard is just a little excessive.”
“I’m not supposed to know, but I do. You’d be surprised what I know but am not supposed to. Sometimes the adults think that just because Vonnie and I aren’t over five foot tall we don’t understand what’s going on. We may be short but we can hear whispered conversations a mile off.” He said very seriously.
“I’m sure that…”
“No. Someone is seriously wants Papa dead. They’ve probably tried several times. The F.B.I. is involved.”
Claire tried to marginalize the boy’s statements by patting him on the hand and saying, “I’m sure you’ve just misunderstood some partial conversations.
“No, ma’am. I’m have not.” Ronnie remained steadfast. “They don’t know who it is, but every day they are getting a little closer. They don’t know the guy’s name yet but they do know for sure he works at the network.”
“HRT?”
The boy nodded his head. “He’s done this before at other places. He comes into a company and steals money and kills people. Then he disappears. They know of at least four people he’s already killed, people he gets to do his dirty work or people who can identify him. That’s why he’s been hard to catch. He never does the bad stuff, he gets other people to do it and then he kills them.”
“I’m confused Ronnie.” Claire took his hand. “You’re father stole money from HRT?”
“No, no.” Ronnie tried to explain. “I’m not exactly sure how or why, but this guy always finds someone in the company to blame everything on so he has time to get away or something. They think he was trying to blame what he did at HRT on my Papa or he thinks Papa’s on to him, something like that.”
“You’re sure of this?” Ronnie nodded his head. “Why hasn’t anyone said anything to me?”
Ronnie shrugged his shoulders. “I think that’s why Papa had you move in here with us, to make sure you and the baby are safe. As long as Uncle Ripley has an eye on us, nothing can happen.”
“And you’re sure no one knows who this person is?” Claire asked to be certain.
“Everyone they know of who can identify him or has had any kind of contact ends up dead…everyone.”
Ronnie went silent. Which was a good thing, because suddenly the voices in Claire’s head got very, very loud.
Vignette #211: Playing Nice
She’d almost made to the entrance of the hospital before they spotted her. Somehow it had never occurred to her that any one would even pay attention to this, let alone her. She noticed the large group huddled to one side behind tape.
Claire had almost made it to the walkway under the awning when someone behind that tape yelled, “Hey, you! Aren’t you the one?”
Stupidly, she stopped and turned to him. “The one what?”
“The bimbo that ripped apart Ian and Saxon?” Another yelled.
Claire howled at them. “I am not a bimbo!”
Suddenly there was pandemonium. Lights flashed, microphones were shoved her way and she suddenly realized how completely she was out of her element.
“Did you get knocked up deliberately?”
“Is it true this isn’t even Ian Justyn’s baby?”
“How much money did you ask for not to go public?”
Claire stomped her swollen feet. “You people are disgusting!” She put her hands on her hips when she found them and started screaming. “A man is fighting for his life and all you vultures can think of is slinging dirt?”
“Claire.” She heard the voice coming up behind her.
“Did someone drop the whole lot of you on your heads when you were babies?” She bellowed.
She felt the hand at her elbow. Claire jerked her arm away and took a step toward the paparazzi. “You people make me sick! What did Ian ever do to make you treat him this way?”
“What did he do to you to make you treat him this way?” One woman behind the rope shouted back.
“Just ignore them and come inside.” The voice tried to pressure her.
Claire’s stance would not be broken. “You assholes want a sound bite? Here’s one for you…I made some mistakes. Hell, I made a lot of mistakes, but you people? You make me look like Little Bo Peep.”
“Claire, maybe we should just…”
Still not bothering to see who was in front of the firing squad with her, Claire put up her ‘talk to the hand’, and adjusted her shoulder bag. “I get it. You don’t like me. So what? It ain’t gonna keep me awake at night. I’ve been hated by people a lot better than any of you, a whole lot better.”
“Call me a gold digger and a whore if you like, I don’t care.” She took a breath at the silent crowd. “Seems to me that’s about the only thing ya’ll are qualified to point out.”
“Hey, lady, we’re just doing our jobs.” Someone heckled.
“Suddenly I'm a lady.” Claire whipped her bangs out of her eyes with a toss of her head. “What happened to reporting the truth and not a bunch of crap? I distinctly remember Ian less than twenty-four hours after he came out of a coma promising to tell you everything he knew. You people have the gall to treat a class act like that this way?”
“Nobody’s will tell us anything.” Another behind the rope shouted.
“Did’ja ask or just start yowling like a bunch of hungry strays at a handful of molded meat?” Claire looked over the people behind the rope and took a deep breath. “Fine. What do you want to know?” Before the pandemonium started again she put up a hand. “One at a time. You!” She pointed to the man who hurled the first insult.
“What’s going on with Ian Justyn?” He asked.
“In general or specific?” She curled her lips into a smile. “Hey, you ask a blanket question, you get a blanket answer. I’m assuming you mean why was he rushed to the hospital in an ambulance?” Claire tapped her foot. “I’m sure he’d have something charming and witty to say. I'll let you all know right up front, that’s not me.”
Tippy Shores stepped out of a car and walked up behind David Turner. “What’s going on here? Shouldn't we put a stop to this?”
Turner grinned watching Claire and the reporters. “That was my first instinct. Second time in a day I've been wrong.” He turned to Tippy and took her arm. “I’m getting old.”
Claire pointed at a woman. “You’re from that God awful infotainment thing, right?”
“Uhm…” The woman turned red at the snickers. “I’m lead anchor on ‘Hollywood Today’, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. God you’re awful. Obviously you're doing someone to keep your job. One question, make it quick.” Claire snapped her fingers.
“Exactly what is wrong with Ian Justyn?" She cleared her throat before Claire could quip. “Specifically regarding his health.”
Claire smiled. “It’s one of those good news bad news situations. It could have been life threatening, but almost immediately the doctors diagnosed Ian as diabetic. Once they are able to get the proper balances, sorry not sure of the technical terms, he should be fine provided a few adjustments are made.”
David Turner put his hand on Claire’s shoulder. “You need us to stay?”
She turned to him and waved them off. “I lived with Ian Justyn for eight years. I can handle these morons. Go. Go be with Ian, tell him I’m on my way up.”
As they glided past her Tippy leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Play nice.”
Claire smiled. “You’re no fun.”
She smiled again when she heard Tippy say to David Turner. “I think we found something she can do.”
“Okay, you!” Claire nodded. “You with the really bad face lift…”
Claire had almost made it to the walkway under the awning when someone behind that tape yelled, “Hey, you! Aren’t you the one?”
Stupidly, she stopped and turned to him. “The one what?”
“The bimbo that ripped apart Ian and Saxon?” Another yelled.
Claire howled at them. “I am not a bimbo!”
Suddenly there was pandemonium. Lights flashed, microphones were shoved her way and she suddenly realized how completely she was out of her element.
“Did you get knocked up deliberately?”
“Is it true this isn’t even Ian Justyn’s baby?”
“How much money did you ask for not to go public?”
Claire stomped her swollen feet. “You people are disgusting!” She put her hands on her hips when she found them and started screaming. “A man is fighting for his life and all you vultures can think of is slinging dirt?”
“Claire.” She heard the voice coming up behind her.
“Did someone drop the whole lot of you on your heads when you were babies?” She bellowed.
She felt the hand at her elbow. Claire jerked her arm away and took a step toward the paparazzi. “You people make me sick! What did Ian ever do to make you treat him this way?”
“What did he do to you to make you treat him this way?” One woman behind the rope shouted back.
“Just ignore them and come inside.” The voice tried to pressure her.
Claire’s stance would not be broken. “You assholes want a sound bite? Here’s one for you…I made some mistakes. Hell, I made a lot of mistakes, but you people? You make me look like Little Bo Peep.”
“Claire, maybe we should just…”
Still not bothering to see who was in front of the firing squad with her, Claire put up her ‘talk to the hand’, and adjusted her shoulder bag. “I get it. You don’t like me. So what? It ain’t gonna keep me awake at night. I’ve been hated by people a lot better than any of you, a whole lot better.”
“Call me a gold digger and a whore if you like, I don’t care.” She took a breath at the silent crowd. “Seems to me that’s about the only thing ya’ll are qualified to point out.”
“Hey, lady, we’re just doing our jobs.” Someone heckled.
“Suddenly I'm a lady.” Claire whipped her bangs out of her eyes with a toss of her head. “What happened to reporting the truth and not a bunch of crap? I distinctly remember Ian less than twenty-four hours after he came out of a coma promising to tell you everything he knew. You people have the gall to treat a class act like that this way?”
“Nobody’s will tell us anything.” Another behind the rope shouted.
“Did’ja ask or just start yowling like a bunch of hungry strays at a handful of molded meat?” Claire looked over the people behind the rope and took a deep breath. “Fine. What do you want to know?” Before the pandemonium started again she put up a hand. “One at a time. You!” She pointed to the man who hurled the first insult.
“What’s going on with Ian Justyn?” He asked.
“In general or specific?” She curled her lips into a smile. “Hey, you ask a blanket question, you get a blanket answer. I’m assuming you mean why was he rushed to the hospital in an ambulance?” Claire tapped her foot. “I’m sure he’d have something charming and witty to say. I'll let you all know right up front, that’s not me.”
Tippy Shores stepped out of a car and walked up behind David Turner. “What’s going on here? Shouldn't we put a stop to this?”
Turner grinned watching Claire and the reporters. “That was my first instinct. Second time in a day I've been wrong.” He turned to Tippy and took her arm. “I’m getting old.”
Claire pointed at a woman. “You’re from that God awful infotainment thing, right?”
“Uhm…” The woman turned red at the snickers. “I’m lead anchor on ‘Hollywood Today’, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. God you’re awful. Obviously you're doing someone to keep your job. One question, make it quick.” Claire snapped her fingers.
“Exactly what is wrong with Ian Justyn?" She cleared her throat before Claire could quip. “Specifically regarding his health.”
Claire smiled. “It’s one of those good news bad news situations. It could have been life threatening, but almost immediately the doctors diagnosed Ian as diabetic. Once they are able to get the proper balances, sorry not sure of the technical terms, he should be fine provided a few adjustments are made.”
David Turner put his hand on Claire’s shoulder. “You need us to stay?”
She turned to him and waved them off. “I lived with Ian Justyn for eight years. I can handle these morons. Go. Go be with Ian, tell him I’m on my way up.”
As they glided past her Tippy leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Play nice.”
Claire smiled. “You’re no fun.”
She smiled again when she heard Tippy say to David Turner. “I think we found something she can do.”
“Okay, you!” Claire nodded. “You with the really bad face lift…”
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Chapter 43: Brown Crayons
She’d almost made to the entrance of the hospital before they spotted her. Somehow it had never occurred to her that any one would even pay attention to this, let alone her. She noticed a large group huddled to one side behind tape.
Claire had almost made it to the walkway under the awning when someone behind that tape yelled, “Hey, you! Aren’t you the one?”
She stopped and stupidly turned to him. “The one what?”
“The bimbo that ripped apart Ian and Saxon?” Another yelled.
Claire howled. “I am not a bimbo!”
Suddenly there was pandemonium. Lights flashed, microphones got shoved her way and she suddenly realized how completely she was out of her element.
“Did you get knocked up deliberately?”
“Is it true this isn’t even Ian Justyn’s baby?”
“How much money did you ask for not to go public?”
Claire stomped her swollen feet. “You people are disgusting!” She put her hands on her hips, when she found them, and started screaming. “A man is fighting for his life and all you vultures can think of is slinging dirt?”
“Claire.” She heard the voice coming up behind her.
“Did someone drop the whole lot of you on your heads when you were babies?” She bellowed at them.
She felt the hand on her arm. Claire jerked her arm away and took a step toward the paparazzi. “You people make me sick! What did Ian ever do to make you treat him this way?”
“What did he do to you to make you treat him this way?” One woman behind the rope shouted back.
“Just ignore them and come inside.” The voice tried to pressure her.
Claire’s stance would not be broken. “You assholes want a sound bite? Here’s one for you…I made some mistakes. Hell, I made a lot of mistakes, but you people? You make me look like Little Bo Peep.”
“Claire, maybe we should just…”
Still not bothering to see who was in front of the firing squad with her, Claire put up her ‘talk to the hand’ and adjusted her shoulder bag. “I get it. You people don’t like me. So what? It ain’t gonna keep me awake at night. I’ve been hated by people a lot better than any of you, a whole lot better.”
“Call me a gold digger and a whore if you like, I don’t care.” She took a breath at the silent crowd. “Seems to me that’s about the only thing ya’ll are qualified to point out.”
“Hey, lady, we’re just doing our jobs.” Someone heckled.
“Suddenly I'm a lady.” Claire whipped her bangs out of her eyes with a toss of her head. “What happened to reporting the truth and not a bunch of crap? I distinctly remember Ian less than twenty-four hours after he came out of a coma promising to tell you everything he knew. You people have the gall to treat a class act like that this way?”
“Nobody will tell us anything.” Another behind the rope shouted.
“Did’ja ask or just start yowling like a bunch of hungry strays at a handful of molded meat?” Claire looked over the people behind the rope and took a deep breath. “Fine. What do you want to know?” Before the pandemonium started again she put up a hand. “One at a time. You!” She pointed to the man who hurled the first insult.
“What’s going on with Ian Justyn?” He asked.
“In general or specific?” She curled her lips into a smile. “Hey, you ask a blanket question, you get a blanket answer. I’m assuming you mean why was he rushed to the hospital in an ambulance?” Claire tapped her foot. “I’m sure he’d have something charming and witty to say, but we all know that’s not me.”
Tippy Shores stepped out of a car and walked up behind David Turner. “What’s going on here? Should we put a stop to this?”
Turner grinned watching Claire and the reporters. “That was my first instinct. Second time in one day I've been wrong.” He turned to Tippy and took her arm. “I’m getting old.”
Claire pointed at a woman. “You’re from that God awful infotainment thing, right?”
“Uhm…” The woman turned red at the snickers. “I’m lead anchor on ‘Hollywood Today’, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. God you’re terrible, obviously you're sleeping with someone to keep your job. One question, make it quick.” Claire snapped her fingers.
“Exactly what is wrong with Ian Justyn?" She cleared her throat before Claire could quip. “Specifically regarding his health.”
Claire smiled. “It’s one of those good news bad news situations. Almost immediately the doctor’s diagnosed Ian as diabetic. It could have been life threatening, but once they are able to get the proper balances, sorry not sure of the technical terms, he should be fine provided a few adjustments are made.”
David Turner put his hand on Claire’s shoulder. “You need us to stay?”
She turned to him and waved them off. “I lived with Ian Justyn for eight years. I can handle these morons. Go. Go be with Ian, tell him I’m on my way up.”
As they glided past her, Tippy leaned over and kissed Claire on the cheek. “Play nice.”
Claire smiled. “You’re no fun.”
She smiled again when she heard Tippy say to David Turner. “I think we found something she can do.”
“Okay, you!” Claire nodded. “You with the really bad face lift…”
She found him sitting on the edge of the deck in the backyard. A rag, a toothbrush, a bucket of water and a screwdriver were at his side as she gently touched his shoulder. “What’cha doin’?”
He didn’t look up. “Cleanin’ the weed eater.”
“Why?”
“It’s dirty.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You are your father’s son.”
Ronnie finally looked up at her and smiled back.
“Can I sit with you a minute?” She asked.
“Sure.” He said picking up the bucket and sitting it in the grass to make room for her.
“Can you help a pregnant lady get down there?” He giggled and she grunted as they managed to get her down. “Thanks…Puppy.”
He nodded and went back to using the toothbrush on the clumps in the mechanical thing Claire wasn’t really sure actually did. “Your Papa is going to be fine.”
“I know.” He didn’t look up.
“Do you understand what diabetes is?”
“Yes.” He looked up at her. “I think so.”
“It’s alright to be scared.” She tried to find words to help the boy express his feelings as she fretted that she would never get the hang of this. “I know I am.”
Ronnie nodded his head. “I more worried than scared, Miss Claire. He’s been through a lot, my Papa.”
“And so have you.” She put her hand gently on his chin and pulled his eyes to hers and said it again.
“I’ve been scared, and I’ve been worried but only a few times. Papa’s lived in fear from the day he was born.” He voice quivered just a bit. “I want it to stop, but I don’t know what to do.”
Claire sighed. “I’m not sure either, but I think if we just love him and let him know no matter what we’re gonna be there, we’ll all come out of this just fine.”
“Why won’t they let me see him?”
“Ronnie, I think that was kind of his choice, not the doctors.”
“But why?”
“Well…” Claire wasn’t sure herself, so she tried to come up with an explanation that would soothe them both. “…Vanity.”
“What?”
She gave him a playful shove with her shoulder. “You know how your Papa likes everyone to believe he’s Superman? Well, what he’s going through right now isn’t pretty. If we see him all sweaty and shaky we’d probably realize he’s human and you know that’s the last thing he wants.”
Ronnie giggled. “You know, you’re pretty good at this.”
“I am?” Claire wrinkled her nose.
“Yeah. You’re gonna be a good mother.”
“I hope so. I’ve kinda messed everything else up, and I don’t know anything about this so I’ll just have to make it up as I go along.”
“That’s what Papa does.” He assured her.
“He does?”
“Superman didn’t get the handbook either.” Ronnie looked at Claire. “So do you hope it’s a girl or a boy?”
“Personally, I don’t care. I just want to get it out of me!” Clare looked at her tummy as she rubbed it. “I am so tired of being pregnant. What do you want, a brother or a sister?”
Ronnie bit his lip. “Between you and me? I hope it’s a boy, with Vonnie and Granny we haven’t got the energy for another girl around here.”
Claire threw back her head and laughed. “Ronnie, some times I think you’re the most mature person in this whole family.”
Ronnie threw up his hands. “All I have to do is sit back and let everyone prove it…time after time after time.”
“So, you want to go see Ian?”
His eyes lit up. “Yes!”
“Good news then.” Claire patted the boy’s knee. “I didn’t come back just so Reese could get the hospital. I was told to make sure you had a great dinner and then bring you to see your father.”
“Mean it?”
“Well, I’m not too good a cook, so the great dinner I can’t promise, but I can take you to see Ian just as soon as I figure out how to open a few cans.”
Ronnie slipped his arm around her and put his head on her shoulder, a move that genuinely touched her. “We’ll do it together. That’s what family is for.”
“That’s something I’m learning…slowly, but I swear to God I am trying to learn.”
“Miss Claire?” Ronnie didn’t move his head from her shoulder. “Do you love my Papa?”
Claire sighed. “Honey, I thought so. I was so sure, but the one thing I have learned is that I’m not real sure of anything.” She rubbed his shoulder with the hand from her arm wrapped tightly around him.
“I was Daddy’s little girl. Anything I wanted he provided with extra sunshine. Now, that’s not to say that I didn’t love my Mama, but let’s face it, she’s a little cold. He was always the glowing warmth in our home.”
She placed her head on top of his. “When my Daddy died, I didn’t think I could live and along came your Papa, the one man on the face of the Earth that didn’t seem to know I existed no matter how hard I tried. He was, he is so much like my Daddy. Unfortunately I’m so much like my Mama. I thought we were the perfect match, and I’m pretty sure I messed that up, too, but I think maybe if we try we can be the perfect friends. I’d like that.”
“Me, too.” Ronnie sighed with her. “Ya know I’m kinda hungry.”
“Well, if the two of us can manage to get me out of this position maybe we can get in the kitchen and feed ourselves.”
It took them several tries and several minutes, but they finally had Claire upright again. They quickly cleaned up after Ronnie’s cleaning and found themselves giggling. They found themselves having fun making a simple chicken casserole, tossing in some frozen broccoli to convince themselves it was healthy.
As they set the table for two Claire finally admitted out loud. “I’m certainly glad that Ian’s problem is as simple as diabetes, not to belittle that terrible disease, but it is manageable. What really yanks my chain about this whole episode is the only person allowed near your Papa is Ripley. Why is that? Why not you or even me?”
Ronnie looked up at Clare. “It’s his job, Miss Claire.”
“His job?” She pulled out a chair from the table and plunked down. “I thought he cooked and cleaned for his paycheck.”
“Naw.” Ronnie giggled. “He does that cause he loves us, and he enjoys it. His job is to keep us safe. He’s our live in body guard.”
It was Claire’s turn to giggle. “Body guard? What does Ian need a bodyguard for? Sure he’s getting more and more famous by the day, but I haven’t noticed throngs of people trying to rip his clothes off at the supermarket or sneaking in the house to snip off locks of his hair.”
Ronnie pulled the chair out beside her and sat down. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Miss Claire, someone is trying to kill Papa.”
Her face fell. “Oh come on. That one time some one broke in. I think hiring a body guard is just a little excessive.”
“I’m not supposed to know, but I do. You’d be surprised what I know but am not supposed to. Sometimes the adults think that just because Vonnie and I aren’t over five foot tall yet we don’t understand what’s going on.” He said very seriously.
“I’m sure that…”
“No. Someone seriously wants Papa dead. They’ve probably tried several times. The F.B.I. is involved.”
“Oh come on.” Claire tried to marginalize the boy’s statements. “I’m sure you’ve just misunderstood some partial conversations.
“No, ma’am. I’m haven’t.” Ronnie remained steadfast. “They don’t know who it is, but every day they are getting a little closer. They don’t know the guy’s name. All they know for sure is that he works at HRT.”
“HRT?”
The boy nodded his head. “He’s done this before at other places. He comes into a business and steals money and kills people. Then he disappears. They know of at least four people he’s already killed, people he gets to do his dirty work or people who can identify him. That’s why he’s been hard to catch. He never does the bad stuff, he gets other people to do it and then kills them.”
“I’m confused Ronnie.” Claire took his hand. “You’re father stole money from HRT?”
“No, no.” Ronnie tried to explain. “I’m not exactly sure how or why, but this guy always finds some one in the company to blame everything on so he has time to get away or something. They think he was trying to blame what he did at HRT on my Papa or he thinks Papa’s on to him or something.”
“You’re sure of this?” Ronnie nodded his head. “Why hasn’t anyone said anything to me?”
Ronnie shrugged his shoulders. “I think that’s why Papa had you move in here with us, to make sure you and the baby are safe. As long as Uncle Ripley has an eye on us, nothing can happen.”
“And you’re sure no one knows who this person is?” Claire asked to be certain.
“Everyone they know of who can identify him or has had any kind of contact ends up dead…everyone.”
Ronnie went silent. Which was a good thing, because suddenly the voices in Claire’s end got very, very loud.
“Oh sweetheart!” Tippy wrapped herself around the stunning blond. “He’ll be so happy you came!”
“I couldn’t stay away.” Saxon smiled as she squeezed the woman tighter, ignoring a seething Claire standing right beside her. “How is he?”
Tippy pushed the woman back and smiled. “Once they get some kind of mumbo jumbo straightened out, he’ll be just fine. Until then he’s hot and sweaty one minute then freezing to death the next.”
Saxon nodded her head and bent down to give Ronnie a hug. “Hey there, boyfriend. How you hangin’ in?”
“Not bad.” Ronnie almost refused to let go. “We have missed you.”
She kissed the boy’s forehead and touched his nose playfully with her finger. “I’ve been a busy girl. You’ve not been around when I’m working. I don’t get around much when I’m doing a movie. That’s pretty much all I concentrate on.”
“You’re makin’ a movie?” Ronnie smiled.
“Yup, working very hard.” Saxon brushed his curly black hair behind his ear. “But that doesn’t mean you are not always on my mind. So kid, how’s your Papa?”
“I haven’t seen him yet. He’s not been letting anyone in, until tonight. They’ll let two of us go in at a time.”
“Well point me to the back of the line and I’ll patiently wait my turn, although patience is one of my weaker virtues.”
Tippy smiled at her. “No one’s gone in yet. The doctor is in with him. We’re all just waiting for him to come out.”
Saxon’s eyes finally connected with Claire’s. “Claire.”
Claire plastered on a smile. “Saxon.”
Saxon opened her rather large purse and extracted a brightly wrapped gift with a silver rattle hanging on the bow. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to give this to you in person. It’s for the baby, of course.”
“Of course.” She said as she accepted the gift, after a not so subtle elbow from Tippy. “Thank you, Saxon. I’m sure it’s wonderful. I’ll wait and open this with Ian.”
“Of course.” Saxon looked at the floor a moment and then back up at Claire. “Look, I know we are never going to be besties, but like it or not we are both going to be knocking in and out of each other’s lives. I hope we can at least learn not to make each other as uncomfortable as possible when it inevitably happens.”
“You mean because of Ian?”
“And because of Ronnie, and Tippy and Colton, the whole family. My world is incomplete without them. Let’s not punish ourselves or each other just because our hearts travel in the same circles.”
Claire grinned. “One of us could just not travel in the same circle.”
Ripley looked at Claire. “That sounds good to me. We’ll miss you Claire.”
“Alright!” Colton stepped in. “Let’s not do this. Ian does not need any member of his family to be at an other’s throat any more than he needs one to no longer be there.”
“You’re right.” Claire bit her lip. “I’m sorry, old habits die hard. Saxon, thank you very much for the gift and for suggesting that we try harder to, for lack of a better term, get along. Not just for Ian’s sake, but for ours, too. I will do my best.”
“So will I.” Saxon tried to genuinely smile. “It must be getting close, do you need help with getting things ready for the baby?”
“Uhm….” Claire looked at Tippy.
“You know how our life is darlin’," Tippy put her arm around Claire and squeezed. "Everything seems full speed ahead, then Ian passes out and everything gets put on the back burner.”
“But we’ve picked out furniture and stuff. We’re just trying to figure out where to put the nursery.” Claire added. “Billy got some plans of the house from the town hall or something, and as soon as Ian gets back on his feet we’ll make a decision and get it done.”
“When exactly is your due date?” Saxon asked.
“Well…”
The door to Ian’s hospital room opened and the doctor stepped out, immediately causing the crowd to shift attention. “Ian is doing well. His levels seem to be stabilizing. We’ll need to keep a 24 hour watch on him, but if he continues to improve we will be more than happy to be sending him home by the weekend.”
“He must be feeling better.” Jesse spoke up. “He’s already being a pain in the butt.”
“Oh, he doesn’t have be to feeling good to be a major pain...in any body part.” Wella retorted. “God bless him.”
“He’s ready to see family and friends, so you may all go in…no more than two at a time.” The doctor warned. “It is important that he remain as calm and stress free as possible.”
“He’s in the hospital doctor. That stresses him out.” Billy informed him.
“That’s why it’s important not to add anything else to the stress factor. Keep it light. Keep it as normal as possible.”
“As normal as possible?” Ronnie looked up at the doctor. “Then maybe we should all go in at the same time. Two by two is kinda Noah’s Ark and he may freak.”
“That’s the rule, young man. Give me another 24 hours and maybe, maybe I’ll throw open the doors to the whole zoo, but for tonight, two at a time. Now do I hand out tickets or can you decide who goes in first quietly and peacefully?”
“Not a problem, Doctor.” Tippy smiled. “Sugar Plum, you and Saxon run right in and see your Papa.”
“Well, that was easier than I thought.” The doctor smiled. “Now remember, keep the stress level as low as possible.”
“Do we have a time limit, Mr. Doctor?” Ronnie looked up in the man’s face.
He grinned and rubbed the young boy’s head. “No young man, just remember there are other people waiting to see your father. The time limit is visiting hours, but as long as everyone does their best to keep him calm I think a chat with his loved ones will be better medicine than anything I can give him right now.”
Ronnie grabbed Saxon hand. “Let’s go!”
“Wait, honey.” Saxon held him back. “I think you should go in, but I'll wait and let someone else go with you.”
“No. No.” Ronnie tugged. “Granny is right. It should be you and me first, besides you’re making a movie. You probably need to get home and study or something.”
“Uhh…” Saxon looked at the people in the waiting room. “Is this okay with everyone?”
“Well…” Claire began to speak up.
Tippy slipped her arms all the way around Claire and put her hand over her mouth. “Of course, dear. You run right in. We know you want to see him and he’ll want to see you plus we all know you need to get back to your busy schedule.”
“If you are sure…” Saxon hesitated.
Tippy forced Claire’s head into a nod.
“Come on!” Ronnie yanked Saxon’s arm and headed for the door.
“Sugar Plum…” Tippy gave the boy a loving reminder. “Remember the doctor said calm…”
“Right.” Ronnie took a deep breath. “Right. Shall we go then?” He looked up at Saxon, still holding her hand tight.
“Alright, let's go in.” She said and walked with him to the door. She put her hand on the knob and looked down at the boy. “Ready?”
“Wait!” Ronnie said. “I’m so excited I have to use the bathroom…uh…you go on in. Tell Papa I’ll be right there.”
Before Saxon could say anything, Ronnie opened the door to his father’s hospital room, shoved her through and shut the door behind him, leaning against it with a smile.
“You little rat.” Colton grinned.
“What is it Papa always says?” Ronnie kept the door barred shut. “God only made me look stupid.”
Finally breaking away from Tippy’s grip, Claire fumed. “Well, I for one am not standing for this. I should have been one of the first ones in and if Ronnie’s not going…”
“Why?” Reese piped up.
“Why what?”
“Why should you have been the first one in?”
“Because I’m his…” Clare put her foot down.
“You’re his…?” Tippy raised his eyebrow. “…What?”
Claire let out the breath she realized she was holding. “Because…I’m his…fine…I’ll be realistic here, I’m the knocked up bimbo…but doesn’t that mean something?”
Colton put his arm around the young woman. “Of course it does and we know you are trying. We’ve all seen it.”
“But while we are being realistic, you have to know why Saxon had to go in first.” Tippy tried to use as sweet and understanding a tone as possible.
“But alone?” Claire couldn’t help but be unhappy. “I don’t think so. I may have decided to call a truce but if that woman is allowed to make a move…”
“You just insist on being the brown crayon in a box of purple, don’t you?” Tippy blurted. “Honey, you have to know when it comes to Saxon and Ian, that war is over before you can even draw up the first battle plan.”
“But I don’t have to like it and I don’t have to just stand around and let it happen.” She seethed.
“Yes, Claire.” Colton nodded. “Yes, you do.”
“I will under no circumstances…”
Ronnie looked up at her. “Miss Claire? Forgive me for interrupting, but I need to ask you something.”
“Fine, Ronnie. What?” She crossed her hands across her belly.
“You said you want to try and be good friends with Papa?”
She stumbled a moment remembering their earlier conversation. “Yes, Ronnie, yes I do, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m going to give up on the possibility of the two of us being a couple.”
“I understand.” Ronnie stepped away from the door. “Go in then.”
“What?” Claire straightened up as much as she could.
“Go ahead in with Saxon. I’ll wait until one of you comes out." Ronnie motioned to the door. "Go on.”
“No, honey, you should go in.” As much as she hated it, Claire knew that Ronnie needed to go in to his father. “You’re Papa needs you right now, not me. I’ll wait.”
“No. I insist.” Ronnie said. “I think you need to go in…please?”
The family all looked amongst each other. “Ronnie, are you sure?” Colton asked him.
The boy nodded his head. “It’s the right thing, for Miss Claire and my Papa.”
Claire hesitated just a moment, looking with bewilderment at the group. Tippy finally nodded her head. “Well, okay. I won’t stay long though.” She looked at Ronnie. “I know you need to go right in.”
She reached for the doorknob but stopped and kissed the boy on the forehead. “Thank you, Ronnie.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Claire quietly opened the door and slipped in.
“Ronnie, why did you do that?” Tippy couldn’t help be ask as they heard the door quietly click shut.
“Because it was the right thing to do.” Ronnie stepped to his Granny’s arms. “She has to see what we see. Then maybe they’ll see it for themselves.”
The room was in complete silence, except for the hissing and bleating of the machines attached to Ian’s finger, and they still didn’t know she was in the room. She instantly felt uncomfortable, like she was invading a moment never meant for human eyes to see. She stood there, holding her breath and trembled. Forced to watch and afraid to be seen.
He was white; white the color of almost transparent blue. His hair was matted in sweat, and he looked as though he’d lost twenty or thirty pounds since the last time she laid eyes on him. He looked so uncomfortable in his body, but his heart was in his eyes, in his smile and they were so happy to be alive.
She just sat there. She perched gently on the edge of the bed, only half her face could be seen. Claire could see her finger slowly inch until it was touching one of his. Her face simply smiled. That smile and slight touch soothed him in the moment it took to breathe.
Finally she reached across the bed and wiped her hand across his forehead. She pushed the soppy hair back in place and he relaxed. His entire body just sighed into place.
She spoke, so softly it was almost silent. “There now.”
He brushed his cheek against her hand before she could take it all away. “I was so ashamed. I couldn’t say anything.”
Her blond curls shifted minutely as she tilted her head. “Ashamed?”
“I thought I was going through withdrawal, all the pain killers I’d been on. I thought the symptoms were…now I feel even more foolish.”
“Sshhh!” She put her finger to his lips as he closed his eyes. “Now we know and it’s being taken care of. No more mood swings, no more pain…just you. That’s all we need again.”
His lips began to tremble. He sat forward and she took him in her arms. Claire, still afraid and shamed to take a breath, watched his body begin to tremble. At first she feared he was crossing over into some kind of diabetic tremor and then she heard the sobs.
Quiet sobs from his shaking body. She clutched him tighter, closing her eyes and held him as his body wracked against hers, her chest muffling the cries of desperation. She almost couldn’t see her rocking him back and forth, his arms clutching her tight, his heart breaking and his red heaving face buried in her chest.
He became still. She continued to hold him and he couldn’t let go. She wouldn’t dare let go. Claire knew he’d fall if she did. She leaned against the wall to keep from slipping into floor. She shouldn’t be here. It was too intimate a moment, but if she moved, if a hair fell out of place it would break. It couldn’t break. For once in her life, she knew it couldn’t break.
Ian tried to speak. Saxon couldn’t understand him.
She took her hands and gently pulled his head up to look in his eyes. “What?”
“Make it stop.” He said. “Please. Make it stop.” From her hiding place in plain sight she could see the pain in his eyes, red and puffy, barely hanging on dripping wet white, white cheeks.
“I wish I could.”
Ian sighed, the sigh when a child catches his own breath not sure if more tears are coming or if his little heart isn’t through breaking yet. Saxon looked in his eyes.
Claire watched Saxon look in Ian’s eyes, still holding his head up, and him still holding on to her for dear life. “You can do this. You can.”
He nodded his head slightly. “In a few short days you are going to be physically strong again. You’ll be able to put one foot in front of the other and not have to worry about what’s going on inside your body, inside your head. You can do this.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. She closed her eyes and put her forehead on his, still gently cradling his head, and his arms still holding her oh so tight. “I will.”
With her eyes close, she smiled. He began to breathe, not just take a breath, but breathe. The world stood still another moment.
They were hesitant at first but they finally let go of each other. The world didn’t crash as Claire almost believed it would.
Ian relaxed against the bed. Saxon tilted herself back, as though there had never been a need to hold the pieces together. Claire reached behind her for the doorknob, quietly twisting and opening. As soon as she saw Superman she pulled the door shut again.
“Knock knock.” She said almost timidly. “Do you mind if I pop in long enough to say hello?”
“Claire.” Ian smiled genuinely and reached out his arms to her.
She tried not to cry as Saxon slipped off the bed and stepped back to let her fall into his waiting arms. She closed her eyes to shield the tears, forcing them to fall behind her eyes. She felt the clamminess of his body, but the strength of Ian Justyn’s arms gripped her and she gave up.
Claire gave up the dream that she was what Ian needed. It hurt like hell, but she knew that she could never have participated in what she just witnessed and have the same outcome. She also had the push herself away from him or someone would have to hold the pieces that were left of her together.
“Ronnie will be right in.”
“Is he alright?” Ian asked as he leaned back on his bed, but held on to her hand.
“He’s fine. A little excited.”
Saxon tapped on the bed. “I’ll slip on out and let him come in.”
Claire gently grabbed her forearm. “No. You stay. I just slipped in for a moment, just long enough to see for my own eyes that Superman was alive and well and taking up bed space in Metropolis.” Ian tugged her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “You look…awful.”
Ian laughed. She loved it when she made him laugh. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Don’t apologize to me.” Claire said. “Apologize to poor Rodie. I thought that fur ball was going to have some kind of seizure, racing around the house every little hair standing on end, spitting and clawing. Tippy had to call a vet and get something to calm the damn thing down.”
“Poor varmint.” Ian said. “Tell her I’ll give her a big wave from the other side of the room when I get home.” Concern finally came over his face. “Your mother…Miss Glo…you were on the phone…”
“Stop! Stop…” Claire said. “Mama is fine. She’s pissed at you for trying to drop dead on us…again. We’ll pick her up on Friday night and she’ll be working on some hand gestures for your homecoming this weekend.”
“She’s good then?”
“She’s wonderful.” Claire smiled. “Thank you.” She felt the now familiar uncomfortable, giddy rumble. Involuntarily her hand went to the spot on her belly. “Oh ma God.”
“Claire?” Saxon’s hands went to Claire’s shoulder and when she focused her eyes she saw the concern on Ian’s face.
“Oh not to worry. It just always comes when you least expect it.” Claire took Ian’s hand and put it on her tummy. “Some one just decided they wanted to know they’re happy you’re fine.”
“Is that…?” Ian’s face filled with wonder as Claire nodded. “Oh my…” Ian’s eyes darted up to meet Claire’s. “It feels like there’s a whole chorus line going on in there.”
“You should feel it from my end.” Claire said. She smiled and looked at Saxon, and felt the bit of unease. Claire reached out, taking Saxon’s hand and placed it next to Ian’s. “Can you feel him?”
Saxon let out a verbal breath.
“Him?” Ian looked at her. “It’s a boy?”
“I…uh…I don’t know.”
“With a kick like that,” Saxon took her hand away. “It’s got to be a boy, or a girl already wearing high heels.”
“That would definitely be Ian’s son and my daughter.” Claire remembered. “Oh…” she reached for her purse. “Look what I have.”
Ian looked at the brightly wrapped package she pulled from her purse. “A gift for me?”
“Yeah.” Claire teased. “You need another silver rattle, moron.” She gently tapped his cheek. “The first real gift for our baby…from their Auntie Kleenex Girl.”
“Stop.” Saxon gave Claire a playful shove.
“Saxon, that is so sweet. Thank you.” Ian grinned.
“Help me open it?” Claire said.
“Uh…” Saxon hesitated. “Look, maybe you should wait. Remember we’re not supposed to get him too excited.”
“Nonsense.” Ian reached for the box and started to rip the paper.
“Ian…” Saxon bit her lip and tried to keep him from opening it. “Ian, Claire…I’m thinking maybe I chose the wrong thing…would you mind…”
“Yes…” Ian looked at her sternly. “Yes, we would mind. As long as there’s not another cat in here unless it’s dead and stuffed, it’s the perfect…” Ian stopped as the lid came off and he folded back the paper.
Claire’s hand went to her chest. “Oh Saxon…” She looked at Saxon as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Oh Saxon, it’s so…prefect.”
Ian tenderly held the hand knitted sweater and cap to his cheek. “How did you…?”
She couldn’t help but wipe the tear from her own cheek. “I wish I could say I made them myself. She did give me her patterns and taught me as best she could.”
“It is hers?” Claire managed to say.
Saxon nodded her head. “I used to send her thingies of yarn…”
“Thingies of yarn?” Ian giggled, treasures still clutched preciously. “You must be a really good knitting student.”
“Stop.” Saxon scolded him. “I’d send her yarn and a check and she’d whip up a masterpiece and send it back. I’ve stock piled them. It’s a gift I always give to all my dearest that are expecting babies.”
Claire took Saxon in her arms. “Thank you, Saxon. I never dreamed I’d have something from Miss Hilary’s hands for the baby. It was something I was going to miss dearly. Thank you.”
“Hey!” Ian horned in as best he could. “My turn!”
“Ooh! Booties, too!” Claire said and grabbed them as an excuse to get out of the way. When the hug got to long and irritating, she playfully slapped at them with the knitwear. “Okay, break it up. The hoards have got to be getting restless.”
“She’s right.” Saxon pushed Ian away and gathered up the papers and box as Claire tucked Ian back comfortably in the bed.
Claire kissed Ian on the forehead, “Now try and not be a bastard for a few days so we can get you home and keep that stupid cat from driving us all crazy pacing the house meowling for you.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Claire took the gift, back neatly in the package and rolled her eyes as Saxon kissed Ian on the puffy nose.
“See you soon.” She said.
“Thank you for the gift.”
Saxon put up her hand. “You’ll make me cry.”
“Oh gag.” Claire tugged on the woman’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s let him pretend to be weak and at death’s door for someone else.”
They waved to him as they crossed the room. Saxon was the first out. Claire stopped half way out and turned back to him. “You have until Saturday,” she pointed at him “Or I’m coming back and kicking your ass…and know I will do it, too.”
“Back tomorrow?” He laughed.
“Whatever.”
She almost lost her balance as Ronnie whizzed past yanking a barely balanced Tippy past her. Claire went directly to Saxon and whispered in her ear. “Can I speak with you alone a moment? I’ve done something and I need your help.”
“Claire Humphreys! I am so mad right now I could spit nails right into your eyes!” Tippy steamed as the doctor squirted gel on the pregnant woman’s belly.
“I was taking care of myself.” Claire said in pseudo-self defense. “I just didn’t have the money. I kept thinking I would and the next thing I knew I was the size of Super Wal-Mart.”
“Ever hear of a free clinic young lady?” The doctor stopped his work to look sternly at her.
“I was embarrassed.”
“You should have told somebody.” Some one in the room snipped.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Claire growled. “I kept thinking it couldn’t be true, and then well it was obviously true, and then I kept saying tomorrow I’ll find a doctor…and then…”
“That’s no excuse, Claire.” Ian looked at her from his bed in the room.
She pointed her finger at him. “No comments needed from the I just ignored the thirst, weight loss, mood swings and passing out until I was almost in a diabetic coma gallery.”
“She got you on that one, Papa.” Ronnie smiled.
“Should he be in here?” Claire asked.
“You’ve already been examined.” Saxon told her. “All he’ll see is the first images of his new baby brother or sister.”
“Is that okay, Miss Claire?” Ronnie looked so hopeful.
“Yes. It’s fine. I’m just in a bad mood.” Claire told him.
“You’re in a bad mood?” Tippy crossed her arms. “You put the life of your unborn child in jeopardy and you lived under our noses for three weeks and didn’t tell us and you’re in a bad mood?”
“Hey! Think of it as good planning.” Claire looked up from her prone position.
“How on Earth could this be good planning?”
Claire screwed up her face at the cold slimy stuff on her belly. “Six months ago I peed on a stick and thought—Hey, this will be the perfect way to get a hospital to break the rules and let everybody into Ian’s sick room at once in a few months.”
“Lucky for you, young lady, everyone is healthy.” The doctor said over the growing sound of what seemed to be Doctor Who’s Tardis landing. He adjusted the computer screen. “We should start to see the first images any second. Can everyone see the screen?”
“It’s fine doctor.” Someone said as they all edged closer.
The fuzzy squiggles appeared for all to see. There were “ahs” and sighs. Tippy took Colton’s hand.
Ian cocked his head and tried to make sure his eyes were working properly. “Doctor? Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”
“You’re eyes are just fine, Ian.”
“It’s my baby.” Claire felt a strange tug as she looked at the moving Rorschach test in front of her. She suddenly wanted to know. “Due date? Can you give me a due date? I was guessing I was about seven months along. My math is pretty good.”
“You’re close. I’d say you could deliver at any time.”
“Anytime?” Tippy’s head snapped to attention.
“Twins are usually three to four weeks early.” The doctor looked at Ian and smiled.
Claire had almost made it to the walkway under the awning when someone behind that tape yelled, “Hey, you! Aren’t you the one?”
She stopped and stupidly turned to him. “The one what?”
“The bimbo that ripped apart Ian and Saxon?” Another yelled.
Claire howled. “I am not a bimbo!”
Suddenly there was pandemonium. Lights flashed, microphones got shoved her way and she suddenly realized how completely she was out of her element.
“Did you get knocked up deliberately?”
“Is it true this isn’t even Ian Justyn’s baby?”
“How much money did you ask for not to go public?”
Claire stomped her swollen feet. “You people are disgusting!” She put her hands on her hips, when she found them, and started screaming. “A man is fighting for his life and all you vultures can think of is slinging dirt?”
“Claire.” She heard the voice coming up behind her.
“Did someone drop the whole lot of you on your heads when you were babies?” She bellowed at them.
She felt the hand on her arm. Claire jerked her arm away and took a step toward the paparazzi. “You people make me sick! What did Ian ever do to make you treat him this way?”
“What did he do to you to make you treat him this way?” One woman behind the rope shouted back.
“Just ignore them and come inside.” The voice tried to pressure her.
Claire’s stance would not be broken. “You assholes want a sound bite? Here’s one for you…I made some mistakes. Hell, I made a lot of mistakes, but you people? You make me look like Little Bo Peep.”
“Claire, maybe we should just…”
Still not bothering to see who was in front of the firing squad with her, Claire put up her ‘talk to the hand’ and adjusted her shoulder bag. “I get it. You people don’t like me. So what? It ain’t gonna keep me awake at night. I’ve been hated by people a lot better than any of you, a whole lot better.”
“Call me a gold digger and a whore if you like, I don’t care.” She took a breath at the silent crowd. “Seems to me that’s about the only thing ya’ll are qualified to point out.”
“Hey, lady, we’re just doing our jobs.” Someone heckled.
“Suddenly I'm a lady.” Claire whipped her bangs out of her eyes with a toss of her head. “What happened to reporting the truth and not a bunch of crap? I distinctly remember Ian less than twenty-four hours after he came out of a coma promising to tell you everything he knew. You people have the gall to treat a class act like that this way?”
“Nobody will tell us anything.” Another behind the rope shouted.
“Did’ja ask or just start yowling like a bunch of hungry strays at a handful of molded meat?” Claire looked over the people behind the rope and took a deep breath. “Fine. What do you want to know?” Before the pandemonium started again she put up a hand. “One at a time. You!” She pointed to the man who hurled the first insult.
“What’s going on with Ian Justyn?” He asked.
“In general or specific?” She curled her lips into a smile. “Hey, you ask a blanket question, you get a blanket answer. I’m assuming you mean why was he rushed to the hospital in an ambulance?” Claire tapped her foot. “I’m sure he’d have something charming and witty to say, but we all know that’s not me.”
Tippy Shores stepped out of a car and walked up behind David Turner. “What’s going on here? Should we put a stop to this?”
Turner grinned watching Claire and the reporters. “That was my first instinct. Second time in one day I've been wrong.” He turned to Tippy and took her arm. “I’m getting old.”
Claire pointed at a woman. “You’re from that God awful infotainment thing, right?”
“Uhm…” The woman turned red at the snickers. “I’m lead anchor on ‘Hollywood Today’, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. God you’re terrible, obviously you're sleeping with someone to keep your job. One question, make it quick.” Claire snapped her fingers.
“Exactly what is wrong with Ian Justyn?" She cleared her throat before Claire could quip. “Specifically regarding his health.”
Claire smiled. “It’s one of those good news bad news situations. Almost immediately the doctor’s diagnosed Ian as diabetic. It could have been life threatening, but once they are able to get the proper balances, sorry not sure of the technical terms, he should be fine provided a few adjustments are made.”
David Turner put his hand on Claire’s shoulder. “You need us to stay?”
She turned to him and waved them off. “I lived with Ian Justyn for eight years. I can handle these morons. Go. Go be with Ian, tell him I’m on my way up.”
As they glided past her, Tippy leaned over and kissed Claire on the cheek. “Play nice.”
Claire smiled. “You’re no fun.”
She smiled again when she heard Tippy say to David Turner. “I think we found something she can do.”
“Okay, you!” Claire nodded. “You with the really bad face lift…”
She found him sitting on the edge of the deck in the backyard. A rag, a toothbrush, a bucket of water and a screwdriver were at his side as she gently touched his shoulder. “What’cha doin’?”
He didn’t look up. “Cleanin’ the weed eater.”
“Why?”
“It’s dirty.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You are your father’s son.”
Ronnie finally looked up at her and smiled back.
“Can I sit with you a minute?” She asked.
“Sure.” He said picking up the bucket and sitting it in the grass to make room for her.
“Can you help a pregnant lady get down there?” He giggled and she grunted as they managed to get her down. “Thanks…Puppy.”
He nodded and went back to using the toothbrush on the clumps in the mechanical thing Claire wasn’t really sure actually did. “Your Papa is going to be fine.”
“I know.” He didn’t look up.
“Do you understand what diabetes is?”
“Yes.” He looked up at her. “I think so.”
“It’s alright to be scared.” She tried to find words to help the boy express his feelings as she fretted that she would never get the hang of this. “I know I am.”
Ronnie nodded his head. “I more worried than scared, Miss Claire. He’s been through a lot, my Papa.”
“And so have you.” She put her hand gently on his chin and pulled his eyes to hers and said it again.
“I’ve been scared, and I’ve been worried but only a few times. Papa’s lived in fear from the day he was born.” He voice quivered just a bit. “I want it to stop, but I don’t know what to do.”
Claire sighed. “I’m not sure either, but I think if we just love him and let him know no matter what we’re gonna be there, we’ll all come out of this just fine.”
“Why won’t they let me see him?”
“Ronnie, I think that was kind of his choice, not the doctors.”
“But why?”
“Well…” Claire wasn’t sure herself, so she tried to come up with an explanation that would soothe them both. “…Vanity.”
“What?”
She gave him a playful shove with her shoulder. “You know how your Papa likes everyone to believe he’s Superman? Well, what he’s going through right now isn’t pretty. If we see him all sweaty and shaky we’d probably realize he’s human and you know that’s the last thing he wants.”
Ronnie giggled. “You know, you’re pretty good at this.”
“I am?” Claire wrinkled her nose.
“Yeah. You’re gonna be a good mother.”
“I hope so. I’ve kinda messed everything else up, and I don’t know anything about this so I’ll just have to make it up as I go along.”
“That’s what Papa does.” He assured her.
“He does?”
“Superman didn’t get the handbook either.” Ronnie looked at Claire. “So do you hope it’s a girl or a boy?”
“Personally, I don’t care. I just want to get it out of me!” Clare looked at her tummy as she rubbed it. “I am so tired of being pregnant. What do you want, a brother or a sister?”
Ronnie bit his lip. “Between you and me? I hope it’s a boy, with Vonnie and Granny we haven’t got the energy for another girl around here.”
Claire threw back her head and laughed. “Ronnie, some times I think you’re the most mature person in this whole family.”
Ronnie threw up his hands. “All I have to do is sit back and let everyone prove it…time after time after time.”
“So, you want to go see Ian?”
His eyes lit up. “Yes!”
“Good news then.” Claire patted the boy’s knee. “I didn’t come back just so Reese could get the hospital. I was told to make sure you had a great dinner and then bring you to see your father.”
“Mean it?”
“Well, I’m not too good a cook, so the great dinner I can’t promise, but I can take you to see Ian just as soon as I figure out how to open a few cans.”
Ronnie slipped his arm around her and put his head on her shoulder, a move that genuinely touched her. “We’ll do it together. That’s what family is for.”
“That’s something I’m learning…slowly, but I swear to God I am trying to learn.”
“Miss Claire?” Ronnie didn’t move his head from her shoulder. “Do you love my Papa?”
Claire sighed. “Honey, I thought so. I was so sure, but the one thing I have learned is that I’m not real sure of anything.” She rubbed his shoulder with the hand from her arm wrapped tightly around him.
“I was Daddy’s little girl. Anything I wanted he provided with extra sunshine. Now, that’s not to say that I didn’t love my Mama, but let’s face it, she’s a little cold. He was always the glowing warmth in our home.”
She placed her head on top of his. “When my Daddy died, I didn’t think I could live and along came your Papa, the one man on the face of the Earth that didn’t seem to know I existed no matter how hard I tried. He was, he is so much like my Daddy. Unfortunately I’m so much like my Mama. I thought we were the perfect match, and I’m pretty sure I messed that up, too, but I think maybe if we try we can be the perfect friends. I’d like that.”
“Me, too.” Ronnie sighed with her. “Ya know I’m kinda hungry.”
“Well, if the two of us can manage to get me out of this position maybe we can get in the kitchen and feed ourselves.”
It took them several tries and several minutes, but they finally had Claire upright again. They quickly cleaned up after Ronnie’s cleaning and found themselves giggling. They found themselves having fun making a simple chicken casserole, tossing in some frozen broccoli to convince themselves it was healthy.
As they set the table for two Claire finally admitted out loud. “I’m certainly glad that Ian’s problem is as simple as diabetes, not to belittle that terrible disease, but it is manageable. What really yanks my chain about this whole episode is the only person allowed near your Papa is Ripley. Why is that? Why not you or even me?”
Ronnie looked up at Clare. “It’s his job, Miss Claire.”
“His job?” She pulled out a chair from the table and plunked down. “I thought he cooked and cleaned for his paycheck.”
“Naw.” Ronnie giggled. “He does that cause he loves us, and he enjoys it. His job is to keep us safe. He’s our live in body guard.”
It was Claire’s turn to giggle. “Body guard? What does Ian need a bodyguard for? Sure he’s getting more and more famous by the day, but I haven’t noticed throngs of people trying to rip his clothes off at the supermarket or sneaking in the house to snip off locks of his hair.”
Ronnie pulled the chair out beside her and sat down. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Miss Claire, someone is trying to kill Papa.”
Her face fell. “Oh come on. That one time some one broke in. I think hiring a body guard is just a little excessive.”
“I’m not supposed to know, but I do. You’d be surprised what I know but am not supposed to. Sometimes the adults think that just because Vonnie and I aren’t over five foot tall yet we don’t understand what’s going on.” He said very seriously.
“I’m sure that…”
“No. Someone seriously wants Papa dead. They’ve probably tried several times. The F.B.I. is involved.”
“Oh come on.” Claire tried to marginalize the boy’s statements. “I’m sure you’ve just misunderstood some partial conversations.
“No, ma’am. I’m haven’t.” Ronnie remained steadfast. “They don’t know who it is, but every day they are getting a little closer. They don’t know the guy’s name. All they know for sure is that he works at HRT.”
“HRT?”
The boy nodded his head. “He’s done this before at other places. He comes into a business and steals money and kills people. Then he disappears. They know of at least four people he’s already killed, people he gets to do his dirty work or people who can identify him. That’s why he’s been hard to catch. He never does the bad stuff, he gets other people to do it and then kills them.”
“I’m confused Ronnie.” Claire took his hand. “You’re father stole money from HRT?”
“No, no.” Ronnie tried to explain. “I’m not exactly sure how or why, but this guy always finds some one in the company to blame everything on so he has time to get away or something. They think he was trying to blame what he did at HRT on my Papa or he thinks Papa’s on to him or something.”
“You’re sure of this?” Ronnie nodded his head. “Why hasn’t anyone said anything to me?”
Ronnie shrugged his shoulders. “I think that’s why Papa had you move in here with us, to make sure you and the baby are safe. As long as Uncle Ripley has an eye on us, nothing can happen.”
“And you’re sure no one knows who this person is?” Claire asked to be certain.
“Everyone they know of who can identify him or has had any kind of contact ends up dead…everyone.”
Ronnie went silent. Which was a good thing, because suddenly the voices in Claire’s end got very, very loud.
“Oh sweetheart!” Tippy wrapped herself around the stunning blond. “He’ll be so happy you came!”
“I couldn’t stay away.” Saxon smiled as she squeezed the woman tighter, ignoring a seething Claire standing right beside her. “How is he?”
Tippy pushed the woman back and smiled. “Once they get some kind of mumbo jumbo straightened out, he’ll be just fine. Until then he’s hot and sweaty one minute then freezing to death the next.”
Saxon nodded her head and bent down to give Ronnie a hug. “Hey there, boyfriend. How you hangin’ in?”
“Not bad.” Ronnie almost refused to let go. “We have missed you.”
She kissed the boy’s forehead and touched his nose playfully with her finger. “I’ve been a busy girl. You’ve not been around when I’m working. I don’t get around much when I’m doing a movie. That’s pretty much all I concentrate on.”
“You’re makin’ a movie?” Ronnie smiled.
“Yup, working very hard.” Saxon brushed his curly black hair behind his ear. “But that doesn’t mean you are not always on my mind. So kid, how’s your Papa?”
“I haven’t seen him yet. He’s not been letting anyone in, until tonight. They’ll let two of us go in at a time.”
“Well point me to the back of the line and I’ll patiently wait my turn, although patience is one of my weaker virtues.”
Tippy smiled at her. “No one’s gone in yet. The doctor is in with him. We’re all just waiting for him to come out.”
Saxon’s eyes finally connected with Claire’s. “Claire.”
Claire plastered on a smile. “Saxon.”
Saxon opened her rather large purse and extracted a brightly wrapped gift with a silver rattle hanging on the bow. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to give this to you in person. It’s for the baby, of course.”
“Of course.” She said as she accepted the gift, after a not so subtle elbow from Tippy. “Thank you, Saxon. I’m sure it’s wonderful. I’ll wait and open this with Ian.”
“Of course.” Saxon looked at the floor a moment and then back up at Claire. “Look, I know we are never going to be besties, but like it or not we are both going to be knocking in and out of each other’s lives. I hope we can at least learn not to make each other as uncomfortable as possible when it inevitably happens.”
“You mean because of Ian?”
“And because of Ronnie, and Tippy and Colton, the whole family. My world is incomplete without them. Let’s not punish ourselves or each other just because our hearts travel in the same circles.”
Claire grinned. “One of us could just not travel in the same circle.”
Ripley looked at Claire. “That sounds good to me. We’ll miss you Claire.”
“Alright!” Colton stepped in. “Let’s not do this. Ian does not need any member of his family to be at an other’s throat any more than he needs one to no longer be there.”
“You’re right.” Claire bit her lip. “I’m sorry, old habits die hard. Saxon, thank you very much for the gift and for suggesting that we try harder to, for lack of a better term, get along. Not just for Ian’s sake, but for ours, too. I will do my best.”
“So will I.” Saxon tried to genuinely smile. “It must be getting close, do you need help with getting things ready for the baby?”
“Uhm….” Claire looked at Tippy.
“You know how our life is darlin’," Tippy put her arm around Claire and squeezed. "Everything seems full speed ahead, then Ian passes out and everything gets put on the back burner.”
“But we’ve picked out furniture and stuff. We’re just trying to figure out where to put the nursery.” Claire added. “Billy got some plans of the house from the town hall or something, and as soon as Ian gets back on his feet we’ll make a decision and get it done.”
“When exactly is your due date?” Saxon asked.
“Well…”
The door to Ian’s hospital room opened and the doctor stepped out, immediately causing the crowd to shift attention. “Ian is doing well. His levels seem to be stabilizing. We’ll need to keep a 24 hour watch on him, but if he continues to improve we will be more than happy to be sending him home by the weekend.”
“He must be feeling better.” Jesse spoke up. “He’s already being a pain in the butt.”
“Oh, he doesn’t have be to feeling good to be a major pain...in any body part.” Wella retorted. “God bless him.”
“He’s ready to see family and friends, so you may all go in…no more than two at a time.” The doctor warned. “It is important that he remain as calm and stress free as possible.”
“He’s in the hospital doctor. That stresses him out.” Billy informed him.
“That’s why it’s important not to add anything else to the stress factor. Keep it light. Keep it as normal as possible.”
“As normal as possible?” Ronnie looked up at the doctor. “Then maybe we should all go in at the same time. Two by two is kinda Noah’s Ark and he may freak.”
“That’s the rule, young man. Give me another 24 hours and maybe, maybe I’ll throw open the doors to the whole zoo, but for tonight, two at a time. Now do I hand out tickets or can you decide who goes in first quietly and peacefully?”
“Not a problem, Doctor.” Tippy smiled. “Sugar Plum, you and Saxon run right in and see your Papa.”
“Well, that was easier than I thought.” The doctor smiled. “Now remember, keep the stress level as low as possible.”
“Do we have a time limit, Mr. Doctor?” Ronnie looked up in the man’s face.
He grinned and rubbed the young boy’s head. “No young man, just remember there are other people waiting to see your father. The time limit is visiting hours, but as long as everyone does their best to keep him calm I think a chat with his loved ones will be better medicine than anything I can give him right now.”
Ronnie grabbed Saxon hand. “Let’s go!”
“Wait, honey.” Saxon held him back. “I think you should go in, but I'll wait and let someone else go with you.”
“No. No.” Ronnie tugged. “Granny is right. It should be you and me first, besides you’re making a movie. You probably need to get home and study or something.”
“Uhh…” Saxon looked at the people in the waiting room. “Is this okay with everyone?”
“Well…” Claire began to speak up.
Tippy slipped her arms all the way around Claire and put her hand over her mouth. “Of course, dear. You run right in. We know you want to see him and he’ll want to see you plus we all know you need to get back to your busy schedule.”
“If you are sure…” Saxon hesitated.
Tippy forced Claire’s head into a nod.
“Come on!” Ronnie yanked Saxon’s arm and headed for the door.
“Sugar Plum…” Tippy gave the boy a loving reminder. “Remember the doctor said calm…”
“Right.” Ronnie took a deep breath. “Right. Shall we go then?” He looked up at Saxon, still holding her hand tight.
“Alright, let's go in.” She said and walked with him to the door. She put her hand on the knob and looked down at the boy. “Ready?”
“Wait!” Ronnie said. “I’m so excited I have to use the bathroom…uh…you go on in. Tell Papa I’ll be right there.”
Before Saxon could say anything, Ronnie opened the door to his father’s hospital room, shoved her through and shut the door behind him, leaning against it with a smile.
“You little rat.” Colton grinned.
“What is it Papa always says?” Ronnie kept the door barred shut. “God only made me look stupid.”
Finally breaking away from Tippy’s grip, Claire fumed. “Well, I for one am not standing for this. I should have been one of the first ones in and if Ronnie’s not going…”
“Why?” Reese piped up.
“Why what?”
“Why should you have been the first one in?”
“Because I’m his…” Clare put her foot down.
“You’re his…?” Tippy raised his eyebrow. “…What?”
Claire let out the breath she realized she was holding. “Because…I’m his…fine…I’ll be realistic here, I’m the knocked up bimbo…but doesn’t that mean something?”
Colton put his arm around the young woman. “Of course it does and we know you are trying. We’ve all seen it.”
“But while we are being realistic, you have to know why Saxon had to go in first.” Tippy tried to use as sweet and understanding a tone as possible.
“But alone?” Claire couldn’t help but be unhappy. “I don’t think so. I may have decided to call a truce but if that woman is allowed to make a move…”
“You just insist on being the brown crayon in a box of purple, don’t you?” Tippy blurted. “Honey, you have to know when it comes to Saxon and Ian, that war is over before you can even draw up the first battle plan.”
“But I don’t have to like it and I don’t have to just stand around and let it happen.” She seethed.
“Yes, Claire.” Colton nodded. “Yes, you do.”
“I will under no circumstances…”
Ronnie looked up at her. “Miss Claire? Forgive me for interrupting, but I need to ask you something.”
“Fine, Ronnie. What?” She crossed her hands across her belly.
“You said you want to try and be good friends with Papa?”
She stumbled a moment remembering their earlier conversation. “Yes, Ronnie, yes I do, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m going to give up on the possibility of the two of us being a couple.”
“I understand.” Ronnie stepped away from the door. “Go in then.”
“What?” Claire straightened up as much as she could.
“Go ahead in with Saxon. I’ll wait until one of you comes out." Ronnie motioned to the door. "Go on.”
“No, honey, you should go in.” As much as she hated it, Claire knew that Ronnie needed to go in to his father. “You’re Papa needs you right now, not me. I’ll wait.”
“No. I insist.” Ronnie said. “I think you need to go in…please?”
The family all looked amongst each other. “Ronnie, are you sure?” Colton asked him.
The boy nodded his head. “It’s the right thing, for Miss Claire and my Papa.”
Claire hesitated just a moment, looking with bewilderment at the group. Tippy finally nodded her head. “Well, okay. I won’t stay long though.” She looked at Ronnie. “I know you need to go right in.”
She reached for the doorknob but stopped and kissed the boy on the forehead. “Thank you, Ronnie.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Claire quietly opened the door and slipped in.
“Ronnie, why did you do that?” Tippy couldn’t help be ask as they heard the door quietly click shut.
“Because it was the right thing to do.” Ronnie stepped to his Granny’s arms. “She has to see what we see. Then maybe they’ll see it for themselves.”
The room was in complete silence, except for the hissing and bleating of the machines attached to Ian’s finger, and they still didn’t know she was in the room. She instantly felt uncomfortable, like she was invading a moment never meant for human eyes to see. She stood there, holding her breath and trembled. Forced to watch and afraid to be seen.
He was white; white the color of almost transparent blue. His hair was matted in sweat, and he looked as though he’d lost twenty or thirty pounds since the last time she laid eyes on him. He looked so uncomfortable in his body, but his heart was in his eyes, in his smile and they were so happy to be alive.
She just sat there. She perched gently on the edge of the bed, only half her face could be seen. Claire could see her finger slowly inch until it was touching one of his. Her face simply smiled. That smile and slight touch soothed him in the moment it took to breathe.
Finally she reached across the bed and wiped her hand across his forehead. She pushed the soppy hair back in place and he relaxed. His entire body just sighed into place.
She spoke, so softly it was almost silent. “There now.”
He brushed his cheek against her hand before she could take it all away. “I was so ashamed. I couldn’t say anything.”
Her blond curls shifted minutely as she tilted her head. “Ashamed?”
“I thought I was going through withdrawal, all the pain killers I’d been on. I thought the symptoms were…now I feel even more foolish.”
“Sshhh!” She put her finger to his lips as he closed his eyes. “Now we know and it’s being taken care of. No more mood swings, no more pain…just you. That’s all we need again.”
His lips began to tremble. He sat forward and she took him in her arms. Claire, still afraid and shamed to take a breath, watched his body begin to tremble. At first she feared he was crossing over into some kind of diabetic tremor and then she heard the sobs.
Quiet sobs from his shaking body. She clutched him tighter, closing her eyes and held him as his body wracked against hers, her chest muffling the cries of desperation. She almost couldn’t see her rocking him back and forth, his arms clutching her tight, his heart breaking and his red heaving face buried in her chest.
He became still. She continued to hold him and he couldn’t let go. She wouldn’t dare let go. Claire knew he’d fall if she did. She leaned against the wall to keep from slipping into floor. She shouldn’t be here. It was too intimate a moment, but if she moved, if a hair fell out of place it would break. It couldn’t break. For once in her life, she knew it couldn’t break.
Ian tried to speak. Saxon couldn’t understand him.
She took her hands and gently pulled his head up to look in his eyes. “What?”
“Make it stop.” He said. “Please. Make it stop.” From her hiding place in plain sight she could see the pain in his eyes, red and puffy, barely hanging on dripping wet white, white cheeks.
“I wish I could.”
Ian sighed, the sigh when a child catches his own breath not sure if more tears are coming or if his little heart isn’t through breaking yet. Saxon looked in his eyes.
Claire watched Saxon look in Ian’s eyes, still holding his head up, and him still holding on to her for dear life. “You can do this. You can.”
He nodded his head slightly. “In a few short days you are going to be physically strong again. You’ll be able to put one foot in front of the other and not have to worry about what’s going on inside your body, inside your head. You can do this.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. She closed her eyes and put her forehead on his, still gently cradling his head, and his arms still holding her oh so tight. “I will.”
With her eyes close, she smiled. He began to breathe, not just take a breath, but breathe. The world stood still another moment.
They were hesitant at first but they finally let go of each other. The world didn’t crash as Claire almost believed it would.
Ian relaxed against the bed. Saxon tilted herself back, as though there had never been a need to hold the pieces together. Claire reached behind her for the doorknob, quietly twisting and opening. As soon as she saw Superman she pulled the door shut again.
“Knock knock.” She said almost timidly. “Do you mind if I pop in long enough to say hello?”
“Claire.” Ian smiled genuinely and reached out his arms to her.
She tried not to cry as Saxon slipped off the bed and stepped back to let her fall into his waiting arms. She closed her eyes to shield the tears, forcing them to fall behind her eyes. She felt the clamminess of his body, but the strength of Ian Justyn’s arms gripped her and she gave up.
Claire gave up the dream that she was what Ian needed. It hurt like hell, but she knew that she could never have participated in what she just witnessed and have the same outcome. She also had the push herself away from him or someone would have to hold the pieces that were left of her together.
“Ronnie will be right in.”
“Is he alright?” Ian asked as he leaned back on his bed, but held on to her hand.
“He’s fine. A little excited.”
Saxon tapped on the bed. “I’ll slip on out and let him come in.”
Claire gently grabbed her forearm. “No. You stay. I just slipped in for a moment, just long enough to see for my own eyes that Superman was alive and well and taking up bed space in Metropolis.” Ian tugged her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “You look…awful.”
Ian laughed. She loved it when she made him laugh. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Don’t apologize to me.” Claire said. “Apologize to poor Rodie. I thought that fur ball was going to have some kind of seizure, racing around the house every little hair standing on end, spitting and clawing. Tippy had to call a vet and get something to calm the damn thing down.”
“Poor varmint.” Ian said. “Tell her I’ll give her a big wave from the other side of the room when I get home.” Concern finally came over his face. “Your mother…Miss Glo…you were on the phone…”
“Stop! Stop…” Claire said. “Mama is fine. She’s pissed at you for trying to drop dead on us…again. We’ll pick her up on Friday night and she’ll be working on some hand gestures for your homecoming this weekend.”
“She’s good then?”
“She’s wonderful.” Claire smiled. “Thank you.” She felt the now familiar uncomfortable, giddy rumble. Involuntarily her hand went to the spot on her belly. “Oh ma God.”
“Claire?” Saxon’s hands went to Claire’s shoulder and when she focused her eyes she saw the concern on Ian’s face.
“Oh not to worry. It just always comes when you least expect it.” Claire took Ian’s hand and put it on her tummy. “Some one just decided they wanted to know they’re happy you’re fine.”
“Is that…?” Ian’s face filled with wonder as Claire nodded. “Oh my…” Ian’s eyes darted up to meet Claire’s. “It feels like there’s a whole chorus line going on in there.”
“You should feel it from my end.” Claire said. She smiled and looked at Saxon, and felt the bit of unease. Claire reached out, taking Saxon’s hand and placed it next to Ian’s. “Can you feel him?”
Saxon let out a verbal breath.
“Him?” Ian looked at her. “It’s a boy?”
“I…uh…I don’t know.”
“With a kick like that,” Saxon took her hand away. “It’s got to be a boy, or a girl already wearing high heels.”
“That would definitely be Ian’s son and my daughter.” Claire remembered. “Oh…” she reached for her purse. “Look what I have.”
Ian looked at the brightly wrapped package she pulled from her purse. “A gift for me?”
“Yeah.” Claire teased. “You need another silver rattle, moron.” She gently tapped his cheek. “The first real gift for our baby…from their Auntie Kleenex Girl.”
“Stop.” Saxon gave Claire a playful shove.
“Saxon, that is so sweet. Thank you.” Ian grinned.
“Help me open it?” Claire said.
“Uh…” Saxon hesitated. “Look, maybe you should wait. Remember we’re not supposed to get him too excited.”
“Nonsense.” Ian reached for the box and started to rip the paper.
“Ian…” Saxon bit her lip and tried to keep him from opening it. “Ian, Claire…I’m thinking maybe I chose the wrong thing…would you mind…”
“Yes…” Ian looked at her sternly. “Yes, we would mind. As long as there’s not another cat in here unless it’s dead and stuffed, it’s the perfect…” Ian stopped as the lid came off and he folded back the paper.
Claire’s hand went to her chest. “Oh Saxon…” She looked at Saxon as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Oh Saxon, it’s so…prefect.”
Ian tenderly held the hand knitted sweater and cap to his cheek. “How did you…?”
She couldn’t help but wipe the tear from her own cheek. “I wish I could say I made them myself. She did give me her patterns and taught me as best she could.”
“It is hers?” Claire managed to say.
Saxon nodded her head. “I used to send her thingies of yarn…”
“Thingies of yarn?” Ian giggled, treasures still clutched preciously. “You must be a really good knitting student.”
“Stop.” Saxon scolded him. “I’d send her yarn and a check and she’d whip up a masterpiece and send it back. I’ve stock piled them. It’s a gift I always give to all my dearest that are expecting babies.”
Claire took Saxon in her arms. “Thank you, Saxon. I never dreamed I’d have something from Miss Hilary’s hands for the baby. It was something I was going to miss dearly. Thank you.”
“Hey!” Ian horned in as best he could. “My turn!”
“Ooh! Booties, too!” Claire said and grabbed them as an excuse to get out of the way. When the hug got to long and irritating, she playfully slapped at them with the knitwear. “Okay, break it up. The hoards have got to be getting restless.”
“She’s right.” Saxon pushed Ian away and gathered up the papers and box as Claire tucked Ian back comfortably in the bed.
Claire kissed Ian on the forehead, “Now try and not be a bastard for a few days so we can get you home and keep that stupid cat from driving us all crazy pacing the house meowling for you.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Claire took the gift, back neatly in the package and rolled her eyes as Saxon kissed Ian on the puffy nose.
“See you soon.” She said.
“Thank you for the gift.”
Saxon put up her hand. “You’ll make me cry.”
“Oh gag.” Claire tugged on the woman’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s let him pretend to be weak and at death’s door for someone else.”
They waved to him as they crossed the room. Saxon was the first out. Claire stopped half way out and turned back to him. “You have until Saturday,” she pointed at him “Or I’m coming back and kicking your ass…and know I will do it, too.”
“Back tomorrow?” He laughed.
“Whatever.”
She almost lost her balance as Ronnie whizzed past yanking a barely balanced Tippy past her. Claire went directly to Saxon and whispered in her ear. “Can I speak with you alone a moment? I’ve done something and I need your help.”
“Claire Humphreys! I am so mad right now I could spit nails right into your eyes!” Tippy steamed as the doctor squirted gel on the pregnant woman’s belly.
“I was taking care of myself.” Claire said in pseudo-self defense. “I just didn’t have the money. I kept thinking I would and the next thing I knew I was the size of Super Wal-Mart.”
“Ever hear of a free clinic young lady?” The doctor stopped his work to look sternly at her.
“I was embarrassed.”
“You should have told somebody.” Some one in the room snipped.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Claire growled. “I kept thinking it couldn’t be true, and then well it was obviously true, and then I kept saying tomorrow I’ll find a doctor…and then…”
“That’s no excuse, Claire.” Ian looked at her from his bed in the room.
She pointed her finger at him. “No comments needed from the I just ignored the thirst, weight loss, mood swings and passing out until I was almost in a diabetic coma gallery.”
“She got you on that one, Papa.” Ronnie smiled.
“Should he be in here?” Claire asked.
“You’ve already been examined.” Saxon told her. “All he’ll see is the first images of his new baby brother or sister.”
“Is that okay, Miss Claire?” Ronnie looked so hopeful.
“Yes. It’s fine. I’m just in a bad mood.” Claire told him.
“You’re in a bad mood?” Tippy crossed her arms. “You put the life of your unborn child in jeopardy and you lived under our noses for three weeks and didn’t tell us and you’re in a bad mood?”
“Hey! Think of it as good planning.” Claire looked up from her prone position.
“How on Earth could this be good planning?”
Claire screwed up her face at the cold slimy stuff on her belly. “Six months ago I peed on a stick and thought—Hey, this will be the perfect way to get a hospital to break the rules and let everybody into Ian’s sick room at once in a few months.”
“Lucky for you, young lady, everyone is healthy.” The doctor said over the growing sound of what seemed to be Doctor Who’s Tardis landing. He adjusted the computer screen. “We should start to see the first images any second. Can everyone see the screen?”
“It’s fine doctor.” Someone said as they all edged closer.
The fuzzy squiggles appeared for all to see. There were “ahs” and sighs. Tippy took Colton’s hand.
Ian cocked his head and tried to make sure his eyes were working properly. “Doctor? Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”
“You’re eyes are just fine, Ian.”
“It’s my baby.” Claire felt a strange tug as she looked at the moving Rorschach test in front of her. She suddenly wanted to know. “Due date? Can you give me a due date? I was guessing I was about seven months along. My math is pretty good.”
“You’re close. I’d say you could deliver at any time.”
“Anytime?” Tippy’s head snapped to attention.
“Twins are usually three to four weeks early.” The doctor looked at Ian and smiled.
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