"He's… perfect," Cynthia Holt-Wolenczak said, smiling, holding her newborn son in her arms. "Little Lucas," she cooed happily, tickling the bottom of the infant's foot. "What do you think, Lawrence?" she asked her husband, who was standing at the foot of her hospital bed, an impatient look on his face.
"I think," he said, looking at his watch, "that I'm going to miss my plane if I stay here any longer." Cynthia's face fell, but she waved him away, as she always did. Far be it for her to interfere with her husband's career, even with the birth of their first child. "He's very… smart looking," Lawrence added as an afterthought on his way out the door. "I'll see you and Lucas in a week, sweet-heart." And with a brief wave, he was gone, leaving Cynthia alone with her baby.
"We're going to have fun, though, aren't we, Lucas?" Cynthia cooed, trying not to let the tears fall. No, she was silly to be this upset. Lawrence had told her in advance that he had to go away this week. So it was her fault. Her fault he wasn't here to witness this… beautiful child. Lucas opened his big blue eyes and stared up at her, and she smiled down at him. "Daddy can't be here, so we're going to be by ourselves for a while," Cynthia continued, more to herself than to the newborn. "But it's going to be okay anyway. We'll be going home tomorrow and we'll have fun. We'll have Christmas together and everything." Cynthia bit her lip, and sniffled slightly, a single tear falling down her cheek.
}}}Dec. 26, 2002{{{
Cynthia shifted her baby to her other arm, and let out a soft sigh. Not even one call. Not one. Not that she expected one, mind you. She was quite used to being left for weeks on end without any calls or any indication he even knew she was alive. She, too, went on occasional business trips for her company, but she always made it a point to call and make sure everything was all right and Lawrence hadn't tried cooking by himself - especially when the cook was gone.
Cynthia felt quite useless when she was in the big, high-tech house all alone. They had housekeepers, cooks, and chauffeurs to do the work they normally would loathe doing. But now, on her leave of absence, all by herself, all she wanted to do was scrub the floor. Unfortunately, the floor was already scrubbed, and there was nothing else for her to do except sit on her bed and admire her baby.
Lucas had already discovered his toes, and was currently engaged in sticking them in his mouth. Cynthia smiled slightly, still amazed that this wonderful little person could have come from her and Lawrence. Lucas pulled his toes out of his mouth, covered with baby saliva. He began to make cooing baby noises, which brightened Cynthia's spirit a bit more. Cynthia held out her hand, and Lucas closed his pudgy little baby fingers around her index finger and held on tight. "That's right," Cynthia said. "It's me and you, you and me against the world," she sang quietly. Lucas cooed softly, and closed his eyes, settling into his mother's arms. Cynthia gazed upon her son and decided that nothing would ever come between them, ever. He was too precious to lose.
}}}March 12, 2012{{{
Cynthia Holt-Wolenczak pushed her hands through her long blonde hair and let out her breath sharply. "Lucas!" she shouted up the stairs. She could not believe the mess she was continuously coming home to. Lucas didn't seem to know the meaning of "pick up your junk," so Cynthia had to be especially careful coming into the house for fear of a discarded roller skate or other toy.
Lucas pounded down the stairs, grinning widely. "Mom!" he cried, nearly throwing himself into her arms. "You're home!" Cynthia had been gone for nearly two weeks - one week at a training seminar for her company, the other week at a luxury health spa. Cynthia took a step back from her son, out of his reach, and regarded him coolly. Lawrence hadn't taken the boy to get a haircut like he had promised. But, then again, chances were Lawrence hadn't been home for too much of the two weeks Cynthia was gone.
"I asked you to keep this house clean," Cynthia said, motioning at the scattered toys on the floor. She didn't ask that much from her son, so she was always quite confused whenever she asked him to do something and he didn't do it. It wasn't as though he had regular chores or anything like that - they had housekeepers to take care of those things - so why did he think everything she asked him to do was some huge task.
Lucas looked at his feet sheepishly. "Sorry," he murmured. "I'll pick it up now." He sat down on the floor and began to gather the toys together into a big pile in front of him. "I'm glad you're home?" Lucas said, his tone almost inquisitive.
Cynthia sighed. She really did not have time for this. She needed to talk to Lawrence, whether the man liked it or not. They hadn't been getting along very well lately - their careers were taking much different paths and it was causing a great deal of tension. That, combined with Lucas' constant demands for attention, made for a very stressful time. "Where's your father?" she asked, stepping over the toy pile and walking down the hall to her bedroom.
"Not home yet!" Lucas called after her. Cynthia nodded to herself, putting down her duffel bags and staring at herself in the mirror. She wasn't surprised at all, but she was going to take it up with him. He and Lucas - she asks either one of them to lift a finger, and they keep going about their own business, completely ignoring her request. She really wasn't sure what she expected of either of them.
}}}October 3, 2019{{{
Cynthia Holt transferred a pile of files to the other side of her desk and glanced at the radio beside her. "Stop talking. Just play music," she snapped at the machine, as if the DJs could hear her and would obey. Why were these morning radio shows all talking? Cynthia wondered.
"On that note," one of the DJs said, "We're all just glad to be back on-line after that world-wide blackout last week, caused by the destruction of the Wolenczak World Power Project. According to sources, Dr. Wolenczak is alive and well, having been aided by the UEO flagship. Unfortunately, in aiding the doctor, the submarine was lost. All hands on board, luckily, survived. Now onto our commercial-free request hour…"
Cynthia bit her lip and turned the radio off. How could Lucas not have called her about this? He called her every other time something he perceived as interesting happened. Not that she actually talked to him in person. He usually just left a voice-mail message, or sent her an email. Cynthia never got around to answering most of the messages. Still, it would have been nice to know he was safe.
Cynthia hit the button on her intercom. "Samantha, any calls?" Maybe Lucas was just busy and hadn't gotten a chance to call her yet. That would make sense. Lucas was rather absent-minded, and if he had gotten distracted with something else, it was probable he had simply forgotten momentarily.
"No, ma'am," her secretary replied. "Are you expecting a call?"
Cynthia shook her head, although Samantha could not see her. "No, no," she said. "I was just wondering." Very uncharacteristic of her - normally Cynthia hated being distracted by vid-calls. But she wanted some sort of reassurance that her boy was okay. Despite their rather bitter parting, she still needed to make sure he was all right. She didn't think she'd be able to live with herself if something happened to him - something that she could have helped prevent.
Cynthia tapped her finely manicured fingertips on her desk, and flipped through her files for a few moments. But her thoughts were elsewhere. She was thinking about how very different Lucas had turned out from how she had first thought he would be. He had been such a sweet baby, but he had grown into a very snide, sarcastic young man. Brilliant, he was certainly brilliant all along, but still… Cynthia equated Lucas' attitude with his father. Like father, like son. In spite of that, she still loved him, even if she didn't have enough time to show it.
She toyed with the idea of trying to contact him, but she was unsure of how to go about doing so. And if he was spending time with his father… Cynthia wanted no part of that. She had sworn to herself never to talk to Lawrence again, and she was going to keep her vow. She couldn't let him see she was vulnerable. She couldn't let him see her weakness. Not even for Lucas.
}}}September 12, 2025{{{
Cynthia Holt-Jenkins stepped out of the cab and pulled her long black jacket tightly around her. In the distance, thunder crashed. Cynthia hoped it wouldn't start raining until she was safely back inside. Roger had offered to come with her, but she had declined. He hadn't known Lucas, and Cynthia did not often speak of her first son. His coming would seem… inappropriate.
Cynthia walked through the rows of gravestones until she came to the top of a gentle incline. Rising from the withering grass was a white marble monument, engraved with an image of the seaQuest DSV on two sides, and the UEO emblem on the other two sides. Below the images and the emblems were the names of the crewmembers on board when the ship disappeared three years before. One of the sides was not completely filled with names, and in the space were written the words:
"May the winds always be at your backs
"And the seas always calm
"We will not forget you.
"2016-2022"
Cynthia slowly circled the monument until she saw it. "Lucas Wolenczak." Sandwiched between "Darwin" and "Tony Piccolo". The monument was obviously not arranged in alphabetical order. Cynthia bit her lip and took the bouquet of flowers out from underneath her coat. She bent down and gently placed them at the foot of the monument.
"I'm so, so sorry, sweetie," Cynthia managed, her voice heavy with tears. "About… everything." She rubbed her nose with her sleeve. "Look at me," she said with a choked laugh. "I'm a mess. Who woulda thought that would ever happen?" Her lower lip trembled as she stared at the name. The name of her son - the same beautiful baby she had brought home from the hospital, alone. Never again would she see him, or talk to him, or wonder if he was thinking of her.
She took a step backwards, covering her mouth with her hand, trying not to sob. "First year here, huh?" a voice from behind her said. She backed up another step or two and bumped into something that most definitely was not there when she had first arrived. "You never really get used to it." Cynthia whirled around to see… him. Lawrence. The man she swore she would never speak to again. "Hello, Cynnie," Lawrence said, with a slight smile.
Cynthia swallowed her pride, and looked her ex-husband in the eyes. "Hello," she replied, all the while wondering what they could possibly talk about, and whether or not it would be completely out of line for her to simply book it back to the cab. She did not want to be in this position - somewhere she never thought she'd be.
If Lawrence felt the same way, he didn't show it. She didn't expect to him to have anything civil to say to her, so she was quite surprised at his next words. "He… ah… he'd be glad to see you," he said, motioning towards the monument. "I'm glad to see you. Here, anyway. Make no mistake, nothing has been reconciled. But I think Lucas would want to see us… together…Don't you think?"
Cynthia bit her lip again, fighting tears. "Yes," she said. No, she would not cry. Not in front of Lawrence. She would not allow Lawrence the pleasure of seeing her break down. "He would."
There was an awkward silence. Lawrence was obviously groping for things to say, a way to end the strained conversation without either of them getting any more upset than they were. "There's really… nothing to say," he said honestly.
Part of Cynthia was disappointed. She wanted someone to talk to, and she would have been perfectly content talking to someone else - anyone else. Why did it have to be Lawrence? Why did they have to chose the same day? "No," she said. "There's not."
"So…"
"So," Cynthia echoed.
Lawrence made a show of looking at his watch, then back up at the darkened sky. "I have a meeting in fifteen minutes," he said. "I should go." He backed away slightly. "Good-bye Cynnie." He turned away and walked down the path through the other gravestones.
Cynthia stood there, staring after him, tears stinging her eyes. "Good-bye," she whispered. She sniffled, and turned back to the monument. "Sweetie… I love you… " She hesitated a moment, and then, softly… "Me and you, you and me against the world," she sang. That song… their song. The one she sang when he was a baby. She gently reached out and touched the name carved in stone.
Suddenly, the rain began to fall, and Cynthia let her tears mingle with the rain. "I have to go now," she told the monument, "but I'll come back soon - when it's not raining." A slight smile.
She turned away, and walked through the rows of headstones to the waiting cab. She had promised never to lose her baby, and she had. No, she thought. She would not get down on herself. It wasn't her fault. Besides, she had a new life now. A husband, two children. Back to home, back to husband, back to family… who could dwell in the past? Not Cynthia Jenkins. Jenkins. Wolenczak. Jenkins.
Though she might someday visit the monument again, she wouldn't allow herself to get in the same state as she was the first time she visited. She would not show her weakness, she would not show her vulnerability. Not even for Lucas. She loved him, and always would… but there were some things she simply could not allow herself to do. Not even for Lucas.