Undeniable: Mike

AUTHORS NOTES: Special thanks to Debra who, once again, thought of a few things I didn't. Any mistakes you read now are my fault, not hers.

SUMMARY: Continuation of Della's trip home, begun in "Undeniable: Moira." In this part, we see events through the eyes of her older brother, Michael.


"...and so we have no idea what role we'll play as things go back to normal," George Chadwick finished. Beside him on the swing, Michael Street could only nod. For the past hour, he had listened as his brother-in-law rambled on about the role his church would play as the society around them changed. Naive even for a minister, George's outlook reminded Mike of Herbert Hoover and his "return to normalcy" after the stock market crash of '29 -- as if everyone would simply pick up where they had left off -- before Korea, and before this mess in Vietnam, he thought sourly.

As an Intelligence officer, Mike signed off on decoded messages -- the kind of messages that carried casualty reports and obituaries. With each message more lives were destroyed, a domino effect, collapsing outward. Thousands were suffering for political policy the government called "containment" while thousands more called for peace.

Times, Michael thought, will never be normal again.

The familiar sound of crunching gravel dredged Mike from his darker thoughts and brought his eyes to the driveway. Turning in the swing, he watched as a long black Cadillac convertible with the top down pulled to a halt. He squinted, but against the sun, it was impossible to identify the driver.

As he continued watching, the driver stepped out moving quickly, with determination and purpose. He could tell by the slim figure silhouetted against the sun that the new arrival it was a woman.

"Must be Della," George said. "Mother Street said she was home from Los Angeles."

"Looks like it," Mike agreed. He noted his sister was alone in the big car. "Mason doesn't seem to be with her this time."

George grunted. "Hope she left him in Los Angeles."

So much for any intelligent conversation this weekend, Mike thought with a grimace.

They watched as she closed the car door, pausing to wave to their mother, and then crossed around the rear of the car. She hovered momentarily above the passenger's seat and then slowly, carefully she raised a bundle of white from the seat, cradling it carefully in the crook of her arm.

"What the--?" He narrowed his eyes and the furrow in his brow deepened. Della? With a baby? he thought. His mind was whirling. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his sister Rebecca striding determinedly toward the car.

Mike pushed himself from the swing, tossing a glance to his brother-in-law. "Be right back," he promised. He was barely aware of the grass beneath his feet as he crossed the lawn.

"Hey, Becca," he called, "In a hurry?"

Becca pulled up short, readjusted her daughter, Emma, on her hip, and waited for him to catch up to her.

Mike carefully studied his older sister. She attempted to appear relaxed, but though she stood casually, with Emma's weight borne mostly on her right side, Mike saw her back straighten painfully -- a dead giveaway that she was tense, he thought.

He then glanced over to where their mother waited. As Della reached her mother's side, the solemn expression on his little sister's face as she looked at Moira told him he'd made the right choice in halting Becca's headlong rush.

"Looks like our baby sister brought a little visitor with her," he said, turning and moving slowly toward the two women.

Becca, her jaw twitching as she briefly gritted her teeth, and fought to keep from narrowing her eyes, fell in step with him, "Yes, she's good at that isn't she? At least this year she didn't bring her Boss along," she said.

Angry emphasis Becca put on the word 'boss' jogged Mike's memory.

It had been a spring day almost a year previous when Perry Mason and Della had arrived -- together -- to help celebrate Mother's Day and Moira's birthday, which fell exactly three days later. Their mother had warmly welcomed Mason's presence that year, as any year. Becca however, had not welcomed the lawyer. And judging by Rebecca's defensive posture now, he was willing to guess that her opinion of the famous attorney had not altered in the months since.

"You aren't going to start that all over again, are you?" he asked.

"I said it last year and I'll say it again," she hissed. "This is a family function, and he is not part of this family."

Mike glanced over his shoulder to where his mother was welcoming Della and saw her carefully take the bundle from Della, and lower herself into one of the patio chairs. Della knelt beside her, one hand gripping the armrest of Moira's chair, the other resting lightly on the bundle. Della looked up at Moira Street and spoke, too softly however, for him to hear. He saw his mother's face soften.

He looked back to his older sister. "Ease up, Becca. As I remember it, Mason was utterly devoted to Della. Remember? We were all sitting around talking and Della was telling a story -- his eyes followed her every move! The rest of us weren't even in the room as far as he was concerned -- and she just glowed under his attention, too. Any man who makes Della that happy is all right by me. Besides, as I also recall, Mother welcomed Mr. Mason quite warmly, Rebecca."

"Mother," Rebecca said, "is a kindly, aging woman who doesn't understand what she is condoning."

Mike glanced once more at his mother and Della. "Oh, I don't know, Bec," he said with a wry grin, "I think she's a little more astute than you give her credit for. Mama seems to think he's the closest we're going to get to a brother-in-law." He picked up his pace, pulling slightly ahead of Becca and Emma. "Now let's go meet our sister's guest," he said.

At Mike's approach, Della sprang to her feet. Even as she smiled, he noted something different about the shape of her face. Mike swept her immediately into a hug. "Della!"

She grasped him tightly as they whirled around, then released him as he placed her back onto her feet. "Mama didn't tell me you had leave!" she cried.

"She didn't know," Captain Street replied. "I've got fresh-cut orders for Colorado Springs."

Della simply beamed. "Oh, Mike! That's wonderful!"

He nodded toward the child, sleeping peacefully in his mother's arms. "Baby-sitting, little Sis? What kind of a job is that for the world's best secretary?"

Della opened her mouth to speak, but it was their mother's voice he heard. "She's giving Robert and Pauline Mason the day off, Michael." Moira's eyes cut a significant glance behind him and he turned; Rebecca approached quickly, Emma bouncing gleefully on her hip.

Emma kicked her feet, the hard soles of her shoes tapping together noisily. "Baby!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, Emma. Baby," Rebecca repeated, smoothing her own hand over Emma's strawberry blonde bob of hair. Moving forward, she offered Della a one-armed hug. "Della!" Rebecca exclaimed. "We didn't think you'd get here so early."

"It's good to see you, Becca," Della replied. She squeezed her sister briefly, then drew back. Her smile widened and she poked Emma playfully in the belly. "And you, too, Em!"

Em giggled. "Aunt Dell' funny."

Becca smiled in the direction of the infant asleep on Moira's lap. "Did she sleep the whole way over?"

Della smiled. "Not a peep once we got on the road."

Becca raised her eyes to meet Della's. "Did I hear Mom right? You're baby-sitting for Robert and Pauline Mason?"

With a sinking feeling in his gut, and fearing the worst, he looked to Della. Della straightened her own back and a defiant gleam lit her eyes. In a tone that dared Rebecca to take issue with her, she said coolly, "Yes, Becca. I'm giving Robert and Pauline Mason the day off."

After a tense few seconds, Rebecca diverted her attention to the ruffles of Emma's sundress.

Mike barely managed to suppress his grin. I can just imagine her handling Mason's law business with that same cool, calm resolve that had just backed Rebecca right off, he thought. Way to go, Della!

Clearing his throat, he knelt beside his mother, dusting a hand lightly over the baby's auburn hair. He squinted up at Della. "So this is the Mason family heir. What's her name?"

Della gave him the warm smile Rebecca hadn't warranted. "Brennan," she said.

Brennan. Why did that name sound familiar? He furrowed his brow as the name echoed hrough his mind. Suddenly he paused. Brennan. Brennan Campbell. Great-
grandmother Campbell. Why would the Masons name --

Raising his eyes to his mother, he found her watching him. No, they wouldn't name their daughter after Della's great-grandmother, he reasoned, the truth settling upon his heart and his shoulders like leaden weights. They wouldn't -- but Della would.

His back to Rebecca, he looked up to at Della. She nodded imperceptibly, giving a taut smile. I'll be damned! he thought. He glanced up at their mother, and found her watching him; Moira was beaming.

Mike then glanced briefly over his shoulder at Becca. She was still scowling, smoothing the pleats on Emma's sundress. His eyes met Della's once again.

"Brennan, huh?" he echoed. His baby sister smiled. "Beautiful. Just beautiful."