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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 16 - Festivo
Margaret shifted slightly on the bed, expecting to open her eyes to the dully-lit ceiling that she usually saw. Memory failed briefly as she stared at the curtains in confusion.
"Good morning."
The voice from beside the bed startled her also, but, as she recognized the tone, events of the previous night came back and she could feel the tears in her eyes.
"Hello, Jarod."
He came and sat next to her on the bed, holding her hands in both of his.
"How did you sleep?"
"Well." She released one hand and gently raised it to his face, stroking softly, her face wearing an expression of amazement. "Better than I have for a long time."
"Good." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Do you want something to eat?"
"What time is it?"
"Just after nine." He laughed softly. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep for the whole day."
"Breakfast would be good, as long as..."
"Real food, Mom, I promise. I'm cooking."
"You?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "You, cook?"
"I cook well." He stood up in mock-indignation.
"He does." A female figure came through the curtain from the right and confirmed this fact. "He cooks very well."
Margaret turned to face the newcomer. Her eyes took in every detail of the face before her and she struggled to speak. Finally one word made itself heard.
"Catherine?"
"No, Mrs Ballinger." Jarod's fiancé came forward and stood at the end of the bed, smiling slightly. "I'm Catherine's daughter. My name is..."
"Maleah."
"How did you know?"
Jarod laughed. "You called at an… inconvenient moment last night. I wasn't going to tell her about you yet, but you forced my hand. Again."
Maleah stared at him, her hands on her hips. "And when did I do it last time?"
"Would you like me to list the occasions?"
"That many, huh?"
"Well, let's just say that Mr Lyle would have had a great deal of difficulty in being able to count all of them on his fingers." He grinned. "Mom, I'm going to leave you with Maleah and see about getting you… and me… something to eat. She's quite capable - I hope."
He winked at his fiancé and disappeared from the room. She laughed and turned to the figure in bed.
"If you'd like to get up and perhaps have a shower, we have the facilities just around the corner."
"A shower..." The woman's voice failed. "Do you know how long...?"
"I can guess." Sydney's daughter sat in the chair beside the bed. "Mrs Ballinger, so you know, I've worked here for a long time. I was employed, among other things, as a cleaner at the Centre. Then, after your son escaped, my… the man I believed was my father put me on to the pursuit of your son. I can understand," she swallowed painfully, "if you don't want to see me again. It must be difficult..."
"Maleah, you're still the daughter of the woman who was my friend. And, judging from appearances," she gave a smile that was similar to Jarod's, "you're also very special to my son. On those grounds alone, I would still want to get to know you better, no matter what else you might have done."
"Thank you." The younger woman's eyes glistened. "Thank you for trusting me."
Jarod stepped away from the doorway, nodding definitively. As he walked down the hallway to the small kitchenette that the infirmary boasted, he felt a hand on his arm and stopped.
"How are they getting on?"
"Does the phrase 'a house on fire' mean anything to you?"
Sydney smiled. "Good. I'm glad to hear it." He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing now?"
"Making breakfast - and no comments on my abilities, if you please. I know I burned the toast last time, but that was a one time thing."
"Still," the psychiatrist laughed, "perhaps I should help, just in case."
"And what's this?"
Showered and dressed in clothes that Maleah had found and which, while they were not the most attractive, were certainly an improvement on what she had been wearing, Margaret sat in a chair beside the bed. She peered at a square that sat steaming on the plate in front of her.
"One of Jarod's favorite – discoveries," Maleah responded.
Mrs Ballinger cautiously broke off one corner and slipped it into her mouth. After several seconds, her eyes brightened and her son laughed as he ate his own pop tart in several large bites.
"Looks like I have competition now."
"Or it could just be a family thing."
Jarod pulled her down into his lap. "I'll get you eating those things if it's the last thing I do."
"If I ever eat one, it will be the last thing you do."
"I'll die happy."
"We'll see. I'm not sure torture at my hands could make anybody happy."
"Everything you do makes me happy."
She laughed and pushed him away as she got up. "Behave yourself."
"Yes, ma'am." Jarod emptied his glass of chocolate milk in two large gulps and then stood up. "Mom, I would love to spend more time with you but right now I have a small girl to check up on. I would suggest the rest of the morning doing absolutely nothing in the most luxurious surrounding that Sydney can provide and then a family reunion this afternoon. How does that sound?"
She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling as he bent down to kiss her cheek. "It sounds absolutely wonderful, Jarod."
"Okay, Debbie, you can get up now."
"Jarod, is this where you've been hiding yourself all morning?"
The Pretender looked up to see his father standing in the doorway. "Hi, Dad. I had a project to keep an eye on and came here straight after. I was planning on calling you as soon as I was done," he scribbled down the last few figures, "which I now am. Debbie, you run and get dressed again. And would you ask your father if I can see him for a moment?"
The girl scrambled down off the table and left the room. Jarod turned to his father with a smile.
"Can you, Ethan, Steven and Emily come to my office at two this afternoon? We need to talk."
"Sure." Major Charles nodded. "Anything we need to bring?"
"Nothing. It'll just be an informal… family chat." Jarod hid the smile that curled his lips by bending down to pick up the folder. When he looked up, his father had left the office and Broots was entering it.
"Grab a seat."
He sat down on one side of the desk and waited until the technician was sitting opposite him before turning the folder around so that the other man could see it. "I have to wait until some of the test results come through, but as far as I can see, we've got nothing more to worry about..."
Maleah walked into the room, a dark blue dress draped over one arm, which she spread out onto the bed.
"What did you...?"
The younger woman smiled. "I took note of your size this morning, if you'll excuse the impunity, and, as I thought you might want to dress up a little for the occasion, I bought this a little later."
There was a feminine gleam of pleasure in the mother's eye at the thought of dressing up. She seized the dress gleefully and, with a little assistance from her capable nurse, donned the garment.
"Hmm, still lacking something."
"How about this?" Jarod walked into the room and slipped a fine pearl necklace around his mother's throat, gently doing it up at the back. It suited the low-cut collar perfectly and he smiled in satisfaction.
"Where on earth...?"
"I have my spies." The Pretender grinned at his fiancé. "Your father followed you to the shop this morning."
"Hmm," Sydney's daughter narrowed her eyes, "I'll have to have words with him about that."
"Oh, I wouldn't." Jarod laughed. "I told him to."
"Then I'll have to have words with you."
"If that makes you happy..."
"Always."
Jarod laughed and looked at his mother. "Do you feel strong enough to walk there or do you...?"
"Walk," Margaret stated firmly. "I'm sure I can manage."
"I'm sure you can, too." Jarod commented. "But I want you to tell me..."
"Son." She eyed him firmly. "Are you trying to tell me what to do?"
"No!" He threw up his hands in denial. "I just wanted to make sure..."
"I don't want your father to see me like that."
Jarod's face became serious. "I understand." He leaned down and kissed her as he had that morning. "I love you, Mom."
"I love you, too, Jarod."
"Where on earth is he?" Emily paced the length of the office. "I must say I think it’s rather rude to call a meeting and not even show up."
"Jarod said to tell you," Maleah stuck her head into the office at this point. "That he’ll be here within ten minutes."
"Is everything okay?"
"Fine, fine. He just had some last-minute things to take care of."
Jarod heard the last few words as he and his mother stepped out of the elevator and he offered his elbow to her as they made their way down the hall. With a smile, she slipped her arm around his.
"Ready?" His whisper reached her ears and she turned her face to his.
"Quite ready."
"Did I," Jarod began cheerfully as he walked in, "hear somebody bemoaning my absence? How nice to know that I'm missed."
His father was about to reply when he saw the woman who stood inside the door, smiling tenderly at the occupants.
"Margaret?"
"Hello, Charles."
He hesitated for a second before leaping up from his chair and rushing towards her.
Ethan, seeing that his sister was speechless, turned to his brother. "What on earth...?"
"You mean she didn't tell you?" Jarod grinned as he sat in his chair behind the desk. "How very lax of her."
"Well, strictly speaking, she's not my family, so maybe that's why..."
Jarod nodded once at his brother and then looked across at his sister. "Em? You okay?"
"What… how did you…?"
"I found her." Jarod's voice was soft, somewhat tentative. "She was down in SL-24."
"You mean… she was a prisoner?"
His nod was slow and reluctant. "I'm afraid so. She's been here in the Centre for several years. But," he spoke firmly, "I don't think she's been affected by anything they've done to her. As far as I've been able to tell, she's still the same person that she ever was."
Emily was about to speak again when she realized that her father had seated Margaret in the chair beside their daughter and Jarod watched with tears in his eyes as they tried to make up for the missing time, before turning to his clone, who had remained speechless.
"Steve? Everything alright?"
The boy nodded, his eyes still fixed on the reunion as he sat at his brother's elbow. Finally he leaned forward and whispered in Jarod's ear.
"Who is that?"
"That's my… our mother. I know it's not biological, but she can be your mother like he," Jarod indicated his father, "is your dad."
"And Lucas's too?"
His brother nodded smilingly. "Yes, Lucas's too."
"Maleah, are you all right?"
She looked up and smiled at her father in the doorway. "I'm fine. I was just…thinking."
"About anything in particular or just musing on life?"
"Wondering what's going to happen now."
"Ah," Sydney smiled. "Trying to arrange the future to your satisfaction."
"And Jarod's."
"Of course." The psychiatrist sat down opposite his daughter. "I would have thought that that went without saying."
"Sydney..." she hesitated. "Dad… you don't mind, do you?"
"Mind?" He stared at her in confusion. "Why on earth should I mind?"
"I… don't know. I just thought you might."
He got up and came around the desk, leaning against it, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I will not be happier than on the day I give you to him as his wife. And that's a solemn promise."
"Son, how long have you been planning that?"
"Only since last night, when I found her." Jarod grinned up at his father from his desk.
"And what… did they do to her?" Major Charles' voice was hesitant as he walked in and sat opposite the Pretender. In answer, Jarod pulled the folder out of the top drawer of his desk and slid it across so that the older man could read it.
"Fortunately, none of it seems to have had any long-term effects, although I'm probably not the one to be judging what effect it's had on her personality. Still, all of her results are normal."
"Did you...?"
Jarod shook his head. "Sydney."
"Good." Major Charles sighed and then looked up. "It's not that… I didn't mean to suggest that you weren't capable of doing everything properly. It's just - well, you might see things..."
"Dad, I understand. And that's precisely why I asked Sydney to do it."
"Great minds..."
"…are inherited." Jarod smiled across the table at his father. "So we're a very lucky family."
Jarod sat down at the piano and let his fingers feel the keys for a few moments. It was Saturday evening following the discovery of his mother and he had come home early from the Centre to give himself some time alone. He was still trying to get used to the pressure of a regular job and constant contact with other people, but it was slowly becoming more normal. He sighed as he looked around the room, admiring the way that the light shone through the stained glass windows onto the smoothly painted walls. Then, turning back, he closed his eyes and allowed his fingers to begin their light dance over the keyboard.
"I thought you must have given up."
He jumped several inches into the air at the sound of her voice and spun around to see her standing in the doorway, a number of bags clutched in her arms.
"I can," he remarked with acidity in his tones, "conceive of better methods of dying than collapsing of shock at the piano."
"Oh, but just think," she teased him as she carried the bags into the kitchen and he followed. "You would have the divine last sight of me standing and watching you from the doorway."
He rolled his eyes and was about to comment, but she stood firmly in front of him, her arms blocking him into a corner made by the benches.
"Wouldn't that be divine?"
"Hmm, that point requires consideration."
"Consideration is the same as thinking, and that was forbidden some time ago."
"Oh yes," he remarked calmly. "So it was." He reached out and pulled her towards him. "And I think I can even remember the exact circumstances."
"Planning to reproduce them?"
"Only if you can't think of a good reason for us not to."
He lowered his mouth to hers and she slipped both hands around the back of his neck. He loosed the shirt from around her waist and was about slip one arm up inside it when the doorbell rang.
"Darn." The word was a whisper from both mouths simultaneously.
"Tonight, Maleah."
"Promise?"
"Unless something comes up..."
She playfully slapped him on the arm as she tucked her shirt back in. "Is there anything more important than me?"
"Not right now. But you never know..."
"I hate door-to-door-salesmen."
Jarod grinned up at her from the sofa on which he was sitting with his sister and his fiancé's father.
"Oh, they aren't all bad."
"And how would you know?"
He raised an eyebrow at her and his sister giggled.
"Experience is a wonderful teacher," Jarod mused philosophically and ducked as she swung a cushion in his direction.
"Shut up, genius."
"Okay, beautiful."
She gaped at him for a moment and Sydney laughed. "Ah, the unanswerable reply. Well done, Jarod."
"Dad!" Maleah burst out.
Sydney smiled. "Well?"
"You're supposed to be on my side, not his."
"According to whose rules?" Sydney looked over to Emily with a smile. "What would you say, Miss Ballinger?"
"I would say," Emily smiled. "That you have the right to support whomever you choose."
"Are your parents happy?"
"Ecstatically!" Jarod put his book down on the bed and smiled at her as she came into the room. "I think one of my mother's favorite things is that Emily, Steven and Lucas are in rooms just down the hall from hers." He chuckled. "If she didn't know it was futile, she probably would have tried to persuade me to stay there as well."
"And are you sure it was futile?"
"Well, let's just say that I made an assumption…oops, can't do that, can I?" He smiled up at her, attempting to look innocent.
She slowly undid the buttons of her silk bathrobe and allowed it to slip to the floor. "Well?"
"You came prepared."
She smiled and then crawled up the bed towards him. He slipped the bookmark between the pages and placed it on the table beside the bed, turning back to her as she slipped into the bed beside him.
"Maleah?"
"Umm?"
He looked down and saw that she was almost asleep. "Never mind," he whispered. "I'll ask you in the morning. Sleep well." He kissed her gently on the top of her head and felt her sigh once before she relaxed fully. With his free hand, he picked up the book he'd been reading and opened it. It was trickier to read with one hand but, like other difficult things, became easier with practice. It was several hours later when he felt her move against him and glanced down to see that she was looking up at him.
"Well, that's different."
"What is?"
"Most men… never mind."
He brought his lips down to her ear. "I'm not most men, remember?"
"Oh yes," she remarked casually, trying to hide the fact that her body had immediately responded to the warmth of his breath. "Neither you are."
"What's this, Maleah?" He ran his fingernails down her upper arm and laughed softly as the skin rose at his touch. "Are you trying to hide something from me?"
"Me?" She looked up at him, trying to maintain an innocent expression. "As if I would."
He slid down slightly in the bed, allowing the book to fall to the floor. "Good." His lips were almost touching hers. "I would hate to think..." He closed the gap between them and she felt herself almost melting at his touch.
"Jarod..."
"Hmm?"
"We're not going to be able to do any work tomorrow..."
"Tomorrow," he pulled back and looked down at her, "is Sunday and, according to my father, nobody in his or her right mind works on a Sunday. So I thought..."
"Sounds perfect."
He leaned in closer and kissed her softly. "I thought so too."
