Coming Home – Chapter 3 - Home Part II
I found the garden hidden amongst the weeds, right were Jenny had it all those years ago. I am not sure how many years the house has stood empty, but it seems the garden is managing to re-seed it's self. It is a mess to be sure, containing more weeds than vegetables, but it is still producing. My foraging thus far has produced carrots, turnips and radishes, at least a dozen of each. I even find several small potatoes. A veritable feast for dinner tonight. I also have an enormous pile of weeds to show for my half hour of efforts, which I will use to start a compost pile. I feel the start of a smile. It feels good to be home, to feel the soil between my fingers and the sun on my back. The air is clean and clear. It is good to be home and I can not wait to find the time to spend working the soil and bring back the fine working garden Jenny had maintained for years. It brings the first real smile to my face, the one that comes from the heart and encompasses your entire face. The first one I can remember in quite a long time.
I knock the dirt off the carrots and reach to set them with the rest of the harvested bounty, when I notice the boots standing quietly beside me. A man's boots. A good sized man, I'd guess by the size of their feet.
"Roger, where did you find those boots?" and I move sideways on my knees, like a crab, to forage in a different spot.
"No Roger" a deep voice declares. I know that voice, like I know my own or Bree's. It is so familiar and warms my heart to hear it. No, I shake my head. It couldn't be. He has never come to me during the day. Only at night, in my dreams, does he come to be with me. Am I still asleep in bed then, only thinking I am awake...? A cold chill runs down my spine.
Well, lets see where my subconscious takes me then. I stop and wipe my hands off on my overalls, turning to face the form occupying the boots. The sun is almost right behind the man's head. I can tell he is tall and that is about all with the sun blinding me. I place my hand over my eyes in an attempt to block the sun and see my unexpected guest's face. I am quite sure he is looking down at me.
"Oh," I reply. "If you're not Roger then Katie MacFay has sent you. She says your name is O'Connell" I state as I start to rise. "Seamus and Glenna O'Connell, I am sure that is what she said to call you. I am so glad you have come." I grunt with effort and find I can not push up to a stand. "I am slow to move now that I am six months along." I hold my hand out... "Would you mind helping an old, very pregnant woman to her feet?" and I look up smiling. The sun is still blocking my view of his face.
"Name's no O'Connell either. 'Tis Malcolm. Alex Malcolm."
It sounds as if the man almost laughs when he said it. Like it is a joke.
"Aye," He chuckles and his large calloused hand appears out of nowhere. "My sister always had the same troubles when she was close to giving birth. She was a wee thing and would get so large toward the end that her ankles and feet would swell someth'n fierce and she would look like a waddling duck when she walked. I always wanted to quack when she passed within sight but had enough sense no to try it. She'd have boxed my ears for sure."
I could hear the pride in the man's voice. I wonder just who he is and what he wants. It's not likely he just wandered onto the farm. Lallybroch is not on a well traveled road; it takes some know how to find it. I place my hand in his and as his hand grips mine I feel a tingle that has a long forgotten familiarity to it. "You sound like a smart man." I say as I brush the thought away. It takes all my focus and leg muscles to attempt to rise. Mr. Malcolm feels the effort it takes me. With the swiftness of an experienced man that has lived around large, cumbersome, pregnant women, he firmly grasps the elbow of my other arm and with some effort lifts me to my feet. He makes a discernible grunt while doing so.
"Do not begin to think it wise to offer a guess as to how much I weigh..." I tell him sternly but give him my best, most gratefully smile in thanks. I would not be standing if not for this man. I remove both my limbs from his grasp and wipe my hands on my overalls again. "Thank you very much, kind sir. I fear I would have been down on my knees until my daughter and her boyfriend came downstairs looking for their breakfast."
I raise my head to catch a glimpse of my gentleman caller and introduce myself at the same time. "My name is Claire. Claire Fraser" and I find that the man is indeed quite tall. The sun no longer shines directly in my eye but rather creates an almost halo effect around my visitor's head. He looks almost Heaven Sent and my mind quickly wonders if he has wings tucked inside his jacket. I raise my hand once again to shield my eyes and find I am looking into the face of my own hearts blood. "Jamie" I utter. My husband, Jamie, is standing right in front of me.
"Jamie" I manage to squeak a second time before I take a step backwards in shock... gasp..."You"... choke..."How"... and my voice is gone as I stumble back 3 or 4 more steps. Claire, you imbecile, you are going to faint, my brain tells me in an attempt to stay the panic. Acting purely on instinct, I place both hands on my knees and bend at the waist in, an attempt to lower my head to a position below my heart, to keep the blood flowing to my brain... to stop myself from fainting. I quickly realize with my belly there is no way I am getting my head between my knees. Great, I will faint and fall like a Great Beached Whale. There will be nothing graceful about it.
"Are ye alright?" A slightly panicked Mr. Malcolm asks and reaches for my elbow. "I think ye need to sit down. Ye look as if ye've seen a ghost. Come, let me help ye to the steps" and I feel a steady, strong arm wrap around my waist and the other must have hold of my elbow for I feel a firm grip there as well, as Alex almost carries me the the steps that lead up to the kitchen door. "Ye are pale to begin with but ye have no color to ye 'tal now."
"You are not real" I chant to myself. "You are not Jamie. You cannot be Jamie." I stutter like an idiot as we move to the steps. "My husband is dead."
"Oh but I am real, Sassenach." I hear Jamie's voice whisper. Did that voice just come from Mr. Malcolm? I am so confused. Jamie/Alex lowers me to a seated position as carefully as one would handle a new born baby. I instinctively lower my head as close to between my knees as I can get with a enormously protrusive belly.
"Breathe Claire. Slow breaths. Yer going to hyper something." Jamie/Alex says with a bit of panic in his voice now.
"Hyperventilate."
"Aye, that's the word. It's one of the words ye use that I ken never remember. It's got enough Latin, ye think that I would find it an easy one."
Jamie/Alex is kneeling in front of me... I can tell because I can see his knees. "Ooohhhh," I groan out loud and my head wobbles. I lace my fingers behind my head and pull it down so my forehead actually comes in contact with my legs. Whoever he is, Jamie/Alex is wearing a kilt and I'd know those knees anywhere. He certainly looks just like my husband. If he isn't Jamie then he's a dead ringer for him. For some reason the image of Frank laughing at me jumps into my thoughts. What has Frank done, I wonder. Odd where your mind wanders in stressful situations.
"I''m going to get ye some water. I'll be right back." Jamie/Alex pushes past me and when he tries to open the kitchen door, he finds it is locked.
"Sorry Jamie.. I mean Alex... I mean... Oh Fuck... I used the front door when I left the house this morning..." as I wave my left hand toward the front of the house. His leg bumps my hand out of the way and his kilt brushes my face as it flies by me, down the stairs then around the corner of the house.
I pull my arms tightly around myself, and start to rock. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Jamie. What the hell is going on? For your birthday you decide want to give me a heart attack so I can join you, is that it? Where ever you are you Bloody Scot, you'd better not be laughing." I need to look for scares... that's it. The small triangle at his throat or the ones on his right hand, both from Black Jack or the small "C" I carved into the base of his thumb of his left hand. No need to see his back...
I hear the door unlock and open behind me. The kilt brushes past again and suddenly there is a glass shoved into my hand.
"It's water. Drink it." A command, not a request.
I comply, taking two small sips. "I'd rather have whiskey to be totally honest with you. There's a bottle somewhere in there. Be a dear and fetch it." I look up into a pair of worried, gorgeous blue cat eyes that I have missed for eighteen years. "Oh Jamie" I sigh. "Please let it truly be you..."
"Give me your hand" I command as I set the glass down and hold out mine. He offers me his right, palm down. Nothing. Not a single stitch mark on any of the fingers, nor from the nail. I look up a to a stoic face. I forgot how good a card player he really was.
"Make a fist" I order. He makes a perfect fit. The middle finger had never healed correctly after it was basically shattered. He could never bend it. This hand is perfect.
One last try. "Give me your left." He knows and presents it to me palm up. It's there, faded, like mine, but there if you know where to look, and I certainly do. I caress it with my fingertips. I look up and smile. And there it is, my confirmation... that half smile, raised eyebrow thing that only he does that melts me to my core... "It's really you. How is that possible? How long have you been here?"
I pick up the glass of water but my hands start to shake. The water sloshes out of the glass and onto my overalls. Jamie quickly snatches it from my grasp before I drop it. "I see you still have your cat like reflexes."
"Aye, that's from raising my lad, Willie. He is forever knocking things over or drop'n dishes when he helps te clear the table..." And suddenly he looks up from setting the glass down on the step, realizing he has said more than he intended.
I am shaking for a totally different reason now. I just stare at him. He has a child... a boy... Who? Where is the mother?
He laughs in an attempt to break the tension. "Aye Claire, it's me. And I think ye have some explaining to do..." He shuffles the glass he just set down beside me and then places his finger tips lightly on my belly.
"Me?" I say sharply and I slap his hand away. "Jamie, seriously?" for now I truly believe it is him. "I have some explaining to do? What about you, Alex Malcolm? You have a son, Willie?" And what of the child's mother I wisely decide to not ask. "James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, you are an infuriating ass sometimes, do you realize that?"
He stands. "Perhaps it is I best go now, Claire. I think maybe my presence is a bit of a shock to ye. I dinna wish to upset ye any more than I already have. You said sudden shock was no good for the bairn nor the mother when Jenny was with child" He says with concern. "I will go and come back tomorrow with William for I'd like for ye to meet my son. He is braw, Claire. Smart and strong. And Fergus, he is here as well. He inquires daily if this is to be the day you will return to us, as Master Raymond promised. And I would like to meet my daughter. "Brianna, aye? Well, I did ask ye te name the child after my father, though I though the bairn would be a lad when I made the request. Perhaps the lass will be home tomorrow?" He asks with hope in his voice.
"Oh, remembered the girl did you? Bit of an afterthought for your daughter Bree is it then..." came vomiting out of my mouth before my brain had a chance to edit itself. I regretted it before I even completed the statement. The look on his face told me the damage I had inflicted.
"I'm so sorry Jamie. I should not have said that... it was unkind. I don't really know why I said it." and show him the remorse I feel.
He just stares at me in disbelief.
"I just... It upset me that you put Brianna third, is all." and I sigh. "Of course I want to meet your son, and hear all about his mother I wisely kept to myself. And Fergus, how changed he must be from the boy of 12 he was when I left. I can not wait to meet the man he has become. You know that, don't you Jamie?"
"Or is it back to Alex now?" I ask and kick the ground.
"Says the woman carrying another man's child in her." He's look back is protected. He has shut down, no longer showing me how he feels. "You don't even ask about Willie's mother though I see on ye face ye want to know... is the child you carry even Franks, Claire?"
I look up into those brilliant blue eyes that I always lost my soul in, once upon a time, as a tightness envelopes my chest, squeezing my heart. I cannot breathe. He is leaving, going away. I can tell. I feel the tears well in my eyes. I close my eyes and hear myself beg "Please don't go… don't leave me." My eyes fly open as I gasp, trying to catch air into my lungs. "I've only just found you…" and I reach out my hand to touch him, make sure that he is real. "Why? Is it me? Do you not want me?" and I run my fingers through my hair and then over my protruding belly. I can barely see the toes of my boots I am so big. "We just need to talk..." Then I realize… "it's because of the baby, isn't it? Because it's Frank's or just because I'm pregnant and it's not yours?" and I look back up into his eye to see what his face will tell me.
His eyes narrow and darken.
I hear a distant noise that sounds… almost like an animal being torn to shreds. I realize that the sound comes from me as my legs wobble and I fall backwards, my hand reaching for the steps to try and stop my fall.
I cannot breathe. I gasp for breath. My lungs will not listen to what my brain is telling them to do. I hear the Heep… Heep… Heep… as I try to suck in air through an airway that won't allow any through. The airway is closing, allowing almost no air to reach my lungs; failing me now in my time of need. Heep… Heep… Heep... Still gasping for air. I am having a panic attack that is A&E worthy. Clear as day. No air for words and I feel the panic start to envelope me. Fear. Fear that he is leaving. Heep... Heep... Heep... I feel light headed now as I lay my head on the step. Calm yourself Claire. Close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Heep... Heep... Heep... So tired. How did I get so tired... I close my eyes. I will die without him. Hhheeeepppp. Breathe through your nose Claire.
"Claire" He screams. Panic clearly in his voice. "NO, No, No Claire, breathe damn ye." He is back and lies awkwardly on the steps beside me, our foreheads touching. He places my hand over his heart. I see the panic in his face, his eyes. "Feel my heart Claire. It is matched to yours, as always. Pounding from the fear. Close ye eyes and breathe with me. I am here, Claire." He hand is trembling as he places it on my cheek and with his thumb, gently wipes away the tear that had escaped and rolls down my face, as he'd done so many times before.
Minutes pass. My racing heart slows and my breathing eases. Jamie kisses my forehead in reward. "That's my lass. Keep breathing, Claire. Do'na die on me now. How would I explain it to Brianna - the very sight of me kill'd ye mam, Brianna…."
I snort.
He smiles.
"Fucking Bastard." I whisper.
"Ye've called me that before. I canna fault ye use of it this time either."
I cough.
"Ye ken you pronounce her name all wrong... 'tis B r ee aa n uh no B r eye ann a."
"Oh" and I finally open my eyes.
He looks at me and smiles. Relief washes over his face.
"I'm sorry Jamie. Forgive me."
"Always. Though there is nothing to forgive, mo neighan donn. We are just finding our way back after almost twenty years, 'tis all. Ye are still mine are ye no?"
"Always. Never stopped." I sigh and close my eyes again. "Tell my you are not married or living with Willie's mother. Lie to me if you must."
"Claire, the truth of it is... Willie's mam died giving birth to him. And part of my anger 'tis you and the bairn" but rushes to add "but not in a bad way" and he moves his hand to my protruding belly and places his fingers lightly on it. "It is Frank's , is it no?"
I nod. The how and the why can wait for another time just like Willie's mother.
"We need to talk, you and I. I've got to go now; I need to relieve Katie, she's watch'n Willie. I give ye my word, I'll come back tomorrow."
"NO!" I say too loudly and too quickly. I startle him. "I'll go… May I go with you…? We can take the truck. It will be faster than you walking… please? Please, let me come with you." I plead.
"I'd rather no be parted from you either, Sassenach. You just seem so tired. Let me take ye upstairs for a wee lie down and I will come back before ye wake."
My fingers grab handfuls of the front of his shirt and hold on as if for dear life. I will not allow him to disappear from me. Like he has so many times in my dreams.
I feel his smile before our lips part, he moves his calloused hand from my cheek and places it over one of mine with a death grip on his shirt. "I'm here, my Sassenach. I will not go unless that is what you wish. We will talk but I need to fetch Willie from Katie. I told her I'd only be gone an hour and it is well past that." He kisses me again.
His lips linger in this kiss. They are as soft and warm as I remember. There is a hint of honey and milk on them now. His smell is new. No longer of peat, heather and horses. The new smells must be from the print shop: ink and oil.
"I will not be separated from you, not for quite a while, my dear lad" and I cup his face between my hands. "I finally have you back. You are not leaving my sight." I kiss him hard and long. "Get used to my fat ass waddling around after you. Best get to work on your Quacking." I say with a smile, tucking my hands up under my armpits, flapping my elbows and give him a quick "quack, quack."
When Jamie finally stops laughing and I wipe the tears from his face with my sleeve, he says, "Weel, that is nice to ken Mo Neighan Donn. Ye ken how partial I am to your lovely round arse" and he grabs me. "Maybe it will be me following you, if only for the view, aye? It was lovely te watch ye walk down the hill back to the house."
His reflexes are still like a cat. He catches my hand before I come close to cuffing him. We both smile and laugh and end in yet another kiss.
"God, I missed ye" he says at the same time I utter "I missed you so much."
The back door to the kitchen jerks open. Startled, I jump and Jamie grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet and behind him, taking a protective stance in front of me. I peek around his shoulder to see a very angry Bree looking down at us from the door way. Roger is right behind her.
"Just who the hell are you?" she growls with narrow blue eyes boring into Jamie. "You just leave my mother alone, you hear me?"
"Mam" Jamie chokes and stumbles backwards a half step.
"Bree," I begin as I start to walk out from behind Jamie.
"Brianna?" Jamie whispers and places his hand on my hip to hold me behind him. "Jesus, she looks just like my mam Claire" he whispers as he half turns and looks down at me. A large knowing smile first buds then blooms across his face, full of pride. It clearly states his thought - My daughter.
I smile back and nod. "She is all Fraser, inside and out, Jamie. So like you it nearly breaks my heart to watch her sometimes."
Bree stops all forward motion and focuses on the tall red haired man at the bottom of the steps. He has stopped her mother from coming to her. Is it an act of protection or possession? And from what? Bree gives him a good look over, tip to toe. Tall, over 6 feet. Taller than Roger. Flaming Auburn hair like hers only he has curls. And his eyes… his have the exact same color and shape. That makes her catch the door jamb edge for support as she eases herself down to sit on the top step. They are eye level with each other now. She, sitting on the top step and he, standing. It's like looking at her face in a mirror. Well, not exactly her face but whoever he is, he's family, and very familiar with her mother. Definitely a Fraser... Older than a cousin though… Uncle perhaps? No wonder her mom wanted to come back to Scotland. To this Lallybroch. She said it was her home. Her family.
"Damn Bree, did you know you had family here?" Roger asks.
Bree's mind is working 100 miles a minute. She's missing something. What did her dad's letter say….
Dearest Brianna-
...Before you were born your mother disappeared once while we were vacationing in the Scottish Highlands. The police nor Reverend Wakefield and I could find any trace of her. She had gone to look for herbs, flowers and such and never returned that night. I should have gone with her but didn't; I was too focused on my own research at the time. We found the car the next day… in the hills. After months of looking, the police said she had most likely run off with a lover and would return only if she wanted to. I refused to believe that. 2 ½ years later she did, reluctantly, return to me. She was pregnant, with you, Bree. She had a wild tale about where she had been. I don't think I ever really believed her. She said your father had died and made her promise to return to me. That you were mine to raise, take care of and protect. Time passed and I began to look into your mother's story. I looked, and with Reverend Wakefield's help, I found Lallybroch, the home your mother babbles on and on about, endlessly. I wanted to see it for myself so I flew back to Scotland and Reverend Wakefield and I drove from Inverness to look the Estate over. To validate her story. I had no intentions of purchasing it until… well, until I found him Bree, your father. He is alive and lives in Broch Mordha. He's a printer. You look just like him, in almost every detail. When I confronted him, he said his name was Malcolm, Alex Malcolm. Your mom always said your father's name was Fraser, James Fraser, hence the reason she calls herself Claire Fraser and you Brianna Fraser. I thought it was your mother's attempt to cover her trail so I never told your mom about my discovery.
I tried to find out about him. I know only that he is new to the town. Been there a little less than a year. You have two brothers apparently. One is 15 years older than you and one 12 years younger. No one seems to know about a wife or where he was before they all arrived in Broch Mordha.
You have been a gift to me from the very beginning, Bree. I raised you. You ARE my daughter Brianna. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I will always love you as my very own.
This is our little secret, yours and mine. Your mother will take you back with her to Lallybroch when she finds I bought it. It is really my gift to you. I want you to have a chance to confront him, your father. Face to Face. I know you will want that at some point in your life. You now own his family's ancestral home, do with it as you will.
I have made sure there is money for you to attend MIT if that is your wish. You've worked hard at your studies. You've always said you wanted to go to Engineering School and MIT is the best. Do not let your mother talk you out of what you want.
Happy 18thBirthday, Sweetheart.
Love Daddy
"Wait a minute… Mama, who is this guy, exactly? Is he Alex Malcolm?" Bree asks looking from my face to Jamie's.
"Alex Malcolm? Bree, where did you ever hear that name?" I question. Bree stands. She is now looking down on Jamie. "You know Roger and I went by The Print Shop last night. I wanted to meet you." She wore a defiant look on her face.
"Jamie" I spoke to the side of his face, for he was staring intensely at Bree. "Jamie" I repeat and he turns and looks down at me.
"Yes, Mo Neighan Donn?" he says while his fingers drums his thigh.
Oh, thinking are we and I nod at his drumming digits. "Alex Malcolm? Sawney? I thought you used it earlier to be funny. Are you here in Broch Mordha incognito?"
"Incognito?"
"Using a pseudonym."
"A pseudo what?"
"A Fake Name. Are you hiding out? Using a fictitious name for a reason?"
"Ah, No, no really. Master Raymond said it just would not be wise to use Fraser until I found ye, is all. So I ken you'd recognize Alexander Malcolm if ye heard it. Willie kens his name is Fraser but plays along using Malcolm. He thinks it's a bit of a game. Fergus go by Fraser."
"Master Raymond? Really? Is he here? Now?"
"No, no Sassenach. He said he could'na stay. He said you would be along in a couple of months… that the traveling was not so precise with non-travelers like Willie and I. Fergus, it seems, is a traveler, like you. Raymond says you two are family. Fergus is your brother's child. I did no ken ye have a brother. I thought I remember ye say ye had no family, Claire. Even ye Uncle Lambert is dead."
Ok. Now I need to sit down again before I faint.
"Are ye alright Claire? Ye are go'n pale again. And for you… that's saying a good deal." And he smiles.
"Alright the two of you just stop." Bree demands. "I have questions that need answering. Now."
"She's a wee bossy thing, is she no?" Jamie states as he takes my elbow and helps me up the stairs.
"Oh, you have no idea, Jamie" and we climb the stairs, passing Bree and Roger on the way into the house. "I need whiskey."
"Aye. Ye are going to need it when I tell ye who Master Raymond says ye brother is. Where do ye keep the whiskey?"
I stop and look at him. "Just who is my brother, pray tell."
Jamie just smiles. "Ye'll be needing that drink first, Sassenach. Remember, it makes him my brother by marriage too. We are in this together."
"Jesus Jamie, who the hell is it? Just tell me."
"And poor Fergus..." Jamie smiles, shakes his head and moves me forward.
"Oh, well that's just bloody rude not to tell me now, isn't it?"
"Robert François Quesnay de St. Germain." Jamie states clearly and helps me to the bench seat at the kitchen table. "It's in this box….?" he asks as he roots around, pulling out several items and then "Voila. Whiskey." He remove the cap and take a good pull and then passes the bottle to me.
Still dumbfounded, I look at the label. Glenfiddich. "Oh, I like this one. It's very popular in the States. They serve it at most of the bars there." I take a healthy drink and hug the bottle to my chest. Jamie has found my box of Irish Crackers and is happily munching away.
"The Comte St. Germain?" I look at Jamie as he shoves two whole crackers in his mouth at once. "Master Raymond actually said The Comte and I are siblings? I believe there are apples and bananas in one of the boxes as well, Jamie. A piece of fruit would not hurt you, you know." And I attempt to raise an eyebrow at him.
Jamie shakes his head at my feeble attempt at imitating him. "I do'na ken siblings Sassenach but he said The Comte was yer brother and Fergus' father. He said Fergus' mother was a Beauchamp as well, but only by marriage. What is a banana?" and he begins rooting through another box.
"Call Katie and see if she will bring Willie here. Or does Fergus drive? Can he drive them both here?" I pull a banana out of one of the boxes, peel it and hand it to him.
He places the yellow fruit to his nose and smells it. His nose scrunches in disgust. "Aye, I suppose. Where's yer telephone?"
"Just eat it. I am not about to poison you, now am I? The phone is In the hall, by the front door. Do you know her number?" I break off a piece and pop it in my mouth. "Yum, yum, Jamie. You don't know what you are missing."
"Aye." He takes another drink from the whiskey bottle and hands it back to me. He swallows and kisses me, turns and walks toward the door, leaving the banana on the table.
Hhheellloo! Have you both forgotten I am even in the room?" Bree loudly states, exasperation clearly discernible in her voice.
Jamie stops and turns to face her. He raises an eyebrow at her in silent question.
Bree raises an eye brow in response.
I burst out laughing. Roger looks from Jamie to Bree and back. He walks the half dozen steps needed to sit beside me on the bench. "To quote you Dr. Fraser… Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. He's her father alright. No question about it. Just what have you gotten us into?" and starts laughing with me.
I look at Jamie. "Go. Go make your phone call. We will wait right here. I absolutely cannot wait to see Fergus and meet Willie. Hurry up now." I take another drink of whiskey and pass the bottle to Roger. "Here, you are going to need some of this…"
Roger takes the bottle and looks at it, then raises it to Bree. "Slàinte" he says and then takes a long drink.
I look at Bree. "That is your father, Bree. Biologically speaking anyway. Inside and out you are HIS child, no question my darling. His name is James Fraser. James. Alexander Malcolm," and I stop and look at Bree, "MacKenzie," and I look directly at Roger and wink. I take the bottle from him and take a drink. That story will be another day. I think you and Jamie will need to talk about your family tree, my lad. "Fraser. That's the whole of it. Jamie. And I love him. Always have. Almost since the first night we met. It is a long story, love. I promise I will tell you everything and answer all of your questions. I'm just not sure right now is the time to start down that Rabbit Hole."
"Mama." Bree states, brow furrowed with question and her arms hanging by her side.
"Bree" Roger starts. "Looking at the two of you… watching you just now. There is no way that man is not your father. Mr. Randall might have raised you, but that man..." and he points at the kitchen door Jamie left through… "a blind man can see he is your father." And he shrugged his shoulders. "That might not be what you want to hear, but it is the God's honest truth and clear as a bell from where I sit."
Bree sighs, walks over and sits down on the bench beside me. She lays her head on my shoulder and sighs.
I lean over and kiss her on the top of her head. "It will be alright, midget. I promise. Frank will always be your daddy. He raised you, after all. But Jamie, he is your father. And he will want to be a part of your life as well, if you can find it in your heart to give him a chance. I promise, he's a good man. He did not abandon us. Honest. I know you do not understand right now and that you are very angry at him. Put aside anything you think you know or have been told. Let your father and I tell you our story, the truth of it, and then decide for yourself. Deal?"
Bree turned and looks at me, eyes narrow with suspicion. "I'll listen. I promise nothing more. Now, I'm starving. What do we have to eat?"
"You are so like your father. Have a piece of fruit while I make breakfast. I think I have what I need for pancakes. Check for syrup or honey in the boxes. I saw bangers in the fridge along with eggs. I hand the whiskey back to Roger after I take another good drink and make my way to the stove.
Jamie bangs the door open and smiles a Large, Cheshire Cat Smile. It must be good news. "Fergus and Willie are on their way. They are verra excited to finally see ye, Sassenach." He crosses to the table and stops in front of Bree. "Fergus and Willie are my sons, ye brothers. They are verra excited to hear they have a sister." To Roger he says "and will tease you endlessly about being her boyfriend." He stops in front of me, lifts me and sets me on the counter. I have not been kissed so thoroughly in a very long time.
