Chapter 21: Understanding

Coming home from her day at work, Cindy Neutron boredly munched on an apple while flipping through her and her husband's daily stack of mail. Bill. Bill. Invitation to something. Bill. Magazine. She barely glanced at each one before filing them into another pile for Jimmy to go through, before she stopped on a plain envelope addressed to her.

Racking her brain for who on Earth she knew who resided in Ashland, Oregon and coming up empty, she opened the envelope to the cover letter with unfamiliar handwriting.

Dear Cindy,

You don't know me, but my name is Bethany Liland Vortex and I am your father's second wife. I hate to be the one to tell you this and with such an impersonal way of communication, but your father passed away about a month ago from complications of liver cancer. He mentioned you a handful of times but it wasn't until I was going through his personal things that I found this letter addressed to you. Knowing who your husband is, I am sincerely hoping that this is a legitimate address and that this letter will find its way to you. You deserve to have it.

I am sincerely hoping that we will someday be able to meet, or at least talk. Please contact me at the following number if you desire anything more.

Graciously,

Bethany

She dropped the letter and the envelope in shock where the latter hit the floor with a soft noise, confirming the presence of a second letter. Leaving both on the floor and her fruit on the counter she walked to the balcony and shut herself out.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jimmy asked when he found her still sitting out there an hour later.

"So you saw it?"

"I did. Well, Bethany's note anyway. Your dad's is still unopened," He told her, holding up the second envelope as proof.

"I have no interest in reading anything from him."

He sat down beside her on the love seat. "Cin, you know I don't usually push these things, but I know you always wondered what happened that night. Here's your answer."

"What if its horrible? What if he hates me?"

"The man wrote you a letter. Not to mention he was the only relative of yours we didn't hear from after we got married. I don't think he hates you."

Silently she took the envelope from his hand and broke the seal. Her sight became blurred with tears as she saw the familiar handwriting. She shook her head and handed the letter to her husband. He understood her verbal question and started to read.

"My dearest Cindy,

Words cannot even begin to describe the feelings of anxiety and fear I have writing this letter to you. Fifteen years is a long time to be out of someone's life, and while I have always dreamed of seeing you again, I know that baby steps would need to be taken to even consider repairing what has been broken. But you deserve to know the truth.

The April evening that I left, I discovered that your mother was cheating on me. As you well know, we had our problems before but that one was the straw that broke the camel's back and I decided to leave. As I was going to the car, you stopped me and asked when I was coming back. I still remember my response clear as day as I knelt down and told you. "Soon dearest. I'll be back for you very soon." As I drove away, you were sitting on the front porch, holding your stuffed tiger watching me go and it broke my heart.

I tried to get joint custody of you, but your mother painted a superb picture in the courtroom of how unfit I was to be a parent. She could be dramatic and convincing when need be (how well we both know) and they bought it, hook, line and sinker. With my parental rights taken away, I tried to see you, but the last glimpse I have is you and Jimmy sitting on our front steps when you were twelve. A week later, your mother sent me the restraining order.

I moved away to Oregon, a lovely place I had often visited as a child where I reconnected with an old acquaintance, got remarried and had two beautiful children. I am ashamed to admit that I got so wrapped up in my new life, that my old life (including you) became nothing more then a distant memory.

But then suddenly, you were everywhere. Your marriage to Jimmy (which I always knew would happen, regardless of your mother's opinion) was front page news, splashed on every tabloid and gossip magazine in the nation. Seeing pictures of the two of you together, well, you looked happier than I ever remember seeing you. I sat Bethany down and told her everything. She urged me to reconnect, but the last thing I wanted was for you to think that I was only seeking you out because I wanted to take advantage of your new situation. So I stayed away.

The best thing was that now I could see how my little girl grew up. I knew most of it was shallow. I, much like the rest of the world, was nothing more than a stranger looking in. Peering through a dirty window, trying to analyze the lives of two people who gave little more than peeks at their personal lives. But knowing you were okay. That you were safe. That Jimmy would never let anything happen to you, helped keep the storm at bay.

I know how much I owe you pumpkin. I owe you so much more than a few words written on some paper, trying to explain a lifetime of absence. I could blame your mother for it all, but the reality is that I failed you as well. Probably even more so. Instead of fighting for you, instead of being there for you, I gave up and cowardice is a trait that no man desires. A daughter needs her father, and I failed you on that front, over and over again.

I don't expect you to forgive me. Not now, not in this lifetime. But I feel that you deserve to know the truth. To know the answers to all the questions that have haunted the darkest reaches of your mind. I never stopped loving you Cindy. I'm proud of what you have become. Of your want to help others. To defend the weak. And I'm happy that you found your soulmate.

If I ever muster up the will to mail this letter and if you ever feel the tug to see your old man, I would love nothing more for you and Jimmy to come out to Oregon and see us. I'd love nothing more then to reconnect.

Love you,

Dad

He stopped and looked at his wife, "That's all there is."

She nodded, bit her lip and using the sleeve of her sweater wiped away her tears. "Yeah. I-" She paused and looked out over the city. "I can't say I'm surprised. About any of it. I just wish I could have talked to him about if before he died."

He kissed her temple. "The jet's yours if you need it. I'll go get you some tea."

Which is how a week later she found herself knocking on number 504 Pivet Drive in Ashland, Oregon at noon on Saturday. "Coming! Coming!" A voice on the other side of the dark oak door said, before swinging it open. An older brunette woman with warm brown eyes stood at the doorway, taking in her young visitor before exclaiming, "Oh my! Cindy! Come in! Come in!"

The house was nothing like her sleek, modern Upper Side penthouse. It was cozy, decorated in a deep variety of oxblood and brown hues. It reminded her of when she was little and had spent the holidays at her grandmas. Bethany ushered her into the living room where she sat in a comfortable brown leather arm chair. "Your father said you loved tea. I hope that still holds true." She called as she rushed to the kitchen.

"Absolutely." The guest responded from the living room. Her eyes focused in on a batch of pictures above the fireplace and she stood up to get a better look. A wedding picture of her father and Bethany. A family picture of her father, Bethany and two girls (daughters, assuming) at Disneyland. A picture of what she could only assume was Bethany's side of the family. Hearing the woman in question walk back in, she sighed. "He looks happy."

"We were."

Cindy nodded. "I can see that." She accepted the cup of tea and slowly walked around the room. With her father's wife taking a seat and watching her silently. When Cindy finally seemed to be at a standstill, Bethany spoke.

"He knew he failed you. He understood that. It was always his one regret."

"You cannot change the past," her guest responded quietly. "I have a good life. I have Jimmy. I've moved on."

The brunette nodded. "Your father always said that you two were meant to be together. He had this on his nightstand." She handed her a cutout of their wedding picture that had been in the People Magazine article on it.

Cindy gave a sad smile. "I can't believe he cut it out."

"He really did love you. But he thought it was best to limit the contact."

Cindy nodded, her gaze on the floor. A childhood worth of tears threatened to spill over and she quickly said, "I-I need to go. Thank you. For everything."

"It's a lot to take in. I understand. Safe flight back to New York and I'll always welcome you and Jimmy here."

"Ready to go, Miss Cindy?" Jacks asked as she approached the plane.

She smiled. "Yes please."

"As you wish. I'll call Mr. Neutron and let him know. I'm sure he'll want to meet you at the airport."

She fell asleep before the plane even left the airport. She woke up right as they landed in her husband's private hanger in New York City. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she greeted Jimmy as she climbed out of the plane. He didn't say a word, merely hugged her tight and kissed her temple as he steered her towards the car.

They were silent for a while before Cindy spoke. "She's nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He seemed… happy. Happier then he was the first time around." He looked at her and she continued. "Good for him."

He scooted closer to her and she buried her head into his side. "I understand where he was coming from. I do. I would have been suspicious of him coming back into my life after we got married to. But- I really wish we could have at least talked before he died."

Her husband nodded and held her close. Her mind flitted away as she watched the lights of New York City come into view. For the first time she could remember, she was at peace with her dad's leaving. She didn't know if she had necessarily forgiven him, but she was calm. She and her father had finally reached an understanding.

A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I'm sad that this story is in the final stages, but I hope you've been enjoying the ride! -Lissie