CH. 51 Her Last Secret

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Humble Opinion for posting this. The series ended with 'A Father Should Be' but there is a little more to write. Read and review.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jem or any of the other characters or the rights to the show. It's just fun, and no profit is earned.

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Kara had never cared much for surprises. Most, in her experience, were unpleasant ones, but it was hard to say no to Minx when she got like this. With a bemused smile, she let herself be led into the room where the guests were still gathered. There she stopped in her tracks at the sight of the man waiting for her.

TWO MINUTES EARLIER

"Minx?" Jerrica asked as the blond keyboardist came through the door. She glanced at the man who followed her in. "Mr.?"

"Alan Sinclair," he supplied.

"I told you I was bringing a surprise for Kara," Minx smiled. "Where is she?"

"In the kitchen, I believe," Jerrica said. "What is this about?"

"You'll see," Minx grinned. Without another word, she rushed off to the kitchen.

"She's very enthusiastic," Sinclair observed. "It must be so annoying."

"At times," Riot said drily from nearby. Neither noticed Jo reentering the room by another door and stopping in her tracks. She didn't see Kara, but she spotted Pizzazz and Stormer nearby and moved over to them.

"Pizzazz," she said quietly, "please tell me that's not Kara's grandfather."

Both women stared at her. "You know?" Stormer asked.

"Of course I do," Jo whispered back. "So does Kara. What's he doing here? Kara hates him!" The two just gaped at her, not knowing what to say. Voices from the door distracted them.

"All right, Minx. What's this surprise you're so eager to show me?" Jo turned to see Kara entering the room. There, she stopped and stared. For a few seconds she said nothing, merely taking in the sight. "Well," she said before Minx could speak; her tone surprisingly even. "It's not something I would have gotten for myself."

There were chuckles from several people in the room, and the man gave an indulgent smile. "Kara," Minx said, when she was done snickering at the joke, "I'd like you to meet-"

"Alan Sinclair," Kara interrupted. "Owner and CEO of Sinclair industries and majority stockholder of five other large companies, third richest man west of the Rockies. I know who he is."

Minx paused with her mouth open, caught by surprise. The man raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't lose a step. "Six companies, actually, and closing in on second. I'm pleased to know you follow business news, but that is not actually why I'm here. You see, Kara, I-"

"You were my mother's father," Kara interrupted again, "until you disowned her for having a mind of her own." Now, Sinclair looked startled at her words and her increasingly cold tone. "I said I know who you are."

Sinclair only looked surprised for a few seconds before glanced down, taking on a sorrowful look. "I…" he admitted after a moment, "made my share of mistakes with your mother. I let stubborn pride get in the way and have spent years regretting it. Please don't let those mistakes poison any relationship we might have. She had good reason to be angry with me. There's no reason for you to carry that."

"No reason?" she stared at him incredulously. It was a moment before she could continue. The look on her face dissuaded anyone from questioning her. "What makes you think I need her reasons? You've given me plenty yourself."

"I don't understand," he said, sounding honestly confused.

"Mommy?" Laura and Sarah were suddenly by her side, seeing her mood and beginning to worry. "What's wrong? Who's he?"

"No one sweetie," Kara said, getting a grip on her temper and giving each of the daughters a one-armed hug. "No one at all. Come on, let's grab Jo and get out of here for a while." Both perked up at the idea.

"Your children?" Sinclair asked curiously, diverted by the interruption. "I didn't expect that, or that they would be this old." He shook his head regretfully. "I wish I had found you sooner. Being raised properly would have prevented such mistakes.' Kara froze and several people in the room winced.

"He'll be lucky if he doesn't leave in an ambulance," Pizzazz hissed, not believing anyone would be stupid enough to say something like that to Kara. She watched tensely as the drummer turned back to her grandfather, glaring coldly.

"Mistakes? You-" She cut herself off before she could say something she didn't want the children to hear. "Don't you ever," she gritted, stalking toward him, "ever speak about my children. You are nothing to them and you never will be."

"I'm sorry," he said raising a calming hand. "I phrased that badly. I am very glad to see that you have achieved a measure of success even with the challenges you've faced. It speaks well of your strength of character." He allowed a beneficent smile. "I would expect nothing less of one of my line."

His attempt at flattery only made her angrier. "Leave while I'm inclined to let you use your legs."

He took a step back, startled by the venom in her tone, and Jerrica began working her way through the stunned crowd in hopes of keeping Kara from doing something stupid. "Your anger is understandable, given how your mother and I parted, but it doesn't serve your interests," he cautioned. "I find your reaction a bit extreme, given that we've never even met. I'd like a chance to remedy that." Kara opened her mouth to say something she probably wouldn't regret, but Sinclair pushed on. "Your mother had every advantage I could give her and she walked away, spitting on all I'd done for her. In your own way, you have far surpassed her. A young woman of your proven talents could go far if-"

"Don't you dare talk about her!" Kara seethed. "And if you'll recall, the fact that we never met," Kara gritted, "was your choice."

"My choice?" he blinked. "Kara, had I known-"

"After all this time, you finally decide to drop in on us… and lie to my face? You've either gone senile or you think I'm a fool! Do you really think I could forget a single detail of that day? Do you really want me to refresh your memory? Here and now?"

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SIXTEEN YEARS PREVIOIUSLY

Kara watched her mother stare at the phone in the small, worn motel room. She didn't like the place. It was bare and impersonal and not very clean. Mostly, though, it wasn't home. Home was an ocean away in the city where papa was buried, it was the place they'd been told to leave. Kara didn't understand why they had to leave home, but mama had said they had to go, so they went.

Papa had died shortly before her sixth birthday. The doctors had done their best, but their best had done nothing but cost the family every franc they had. Mama had said they had to go because she wasn't a citizen, and Kara couldn't really understand her mother's explanation about that. All she knew was that they were on the other side of the ocean in a strange city and her mother was staring at the phone in the dingy motel room.

"Mama?" she ventured after a while. Her mother glanced up at her, and tried to smile bravely.

"I'm okay, sweetie, just working up the nerve to talk to your grandpa."

"Grandpa?"

"My papa," she explained. "He and I had an argument, and I don't think he'll really want to hear from me." She sighed and muttered under her breath. "It's been years, and 'I told you so' will be the least of what he says, the arrogant so-"

"He's your papa? Why would he be mad at you? Why would he stay mad?"

"He's a proud man, Kara. When he found out I was going to marry your papa, he got mad, said he wouldn't stand for it."

"He didn't like papa?"

"They never met," her mother shook her head. "Dad never gave him a chance. All he knew was that I was going against his wishes, disobeying him." She knew she shouldn't be telling her daughter this, that it was petty of her, but the man's stubborn pride and refusal to compromise on anything had driven her mother away and made any slight disagreement a battle of wills. That didn't mean she should be 'poisoning the well' with her daughter. She shook her head. "Dad always wanted the best for me; we just disagreed about what that was. He wouldn't settle for less than the best in anything, and that included me. Dad wanted his little girl to be the best at everything and was… disappointed if I wasn't. Disobeying him, even in small things could get unpleasant."

"He got mad because you did something he told you not to?" Kara tried to understand.

"Basically," Mama agreed. "If I hadn't, though, I wouldn't have you." She pulled Kara into a hug, which the small girl willingly returned. "Dad is so stubborn. I don't know how he'll react after all this time. I sent him letters, but he never answered."

"He's your papa," Kara protested. "He's supposed to love you. Papa always said-"

"I know sweetie, but Allan Sinclair …wasn't a very good…" She trailed off, looking pensive. "I guess there's only one way to find out, right?"

"Right," Kara nodded. Her mother smiled and reached for the phone.

Dianne Sinclair Mistrahl dialed the number from memory and then put her free arm around her daughter for moral support as she waited for an answer. It took three rings for the phone to be answered, that much Kara could hear. "Hello, dad. It's been a while."

The next few minutes were unpleasant. Her mother and grandfather spoke briefly in civil tones. She tried to tell him of their problems, but she kept getting interrupted. Then her mother's tone started to grow angry. "You're as stubborn as ever! I'm trying to-." She was interrupted again, and whatever her father said left her with her mouth hanging open as the color drained from her face. Then she slammed the phone down and burst into tears.

Kara went to hug her mother as she sat back on the motel room's one lumpy bed. The little girl didn't know what the man had said to make her mother cry, but she wasn't about to forgive him for that. What kind of papa deliberately made his daughter cry?

It seemed to take forever for her mother to pull herself together. Finally, though, she had cried herself out, as Kara clung to her. "Enough of that," her mother finally said with a sigh. "Damn that man, why is he such a-." She stopped with a glance at her daughter. "Sorry, honey. Daddy still holds a grudge."

"Why?"

"It's complicated sweetie. He always has to get his own way." She broke off and shook her head, deciding to phrase it more diplomatically. "He's very smart and strong-willed and that's let him build a huge business for himself, but he sometimes isn't too good at dealing with people who don't work for him."

"I don't understand," Kara frowned.

"It isn't important," she sighed, rubbing her temples. "Let's get some sleep, honey." She got up and helped Kara to her feet before folding back the faded bedspread. "Tomorrow, I'll introduce you to him, and we'll see how things go."

"Tell me about grandpa," Kara said, getting into bed. Her mother considered a moment and then went to her bag. They had left Marseilles with little more than the clothes on their backs, but there were some pictures in the small suitcase she had with her. She got into bed with the handful of pictures and shuffled through them. There were two of Kara as a baby, with her father holding her, one of their house back home, one family shot, and finally, a picture of a younger Dianne, standing next to a dark-haired man with a proud smile on his face.

"This is your grandpa. It was taken the day before I left for college. He was so proud I'd been accepted to one of the best universities in Paris," she looked at the picture with a slight smile, then flipped it over to show Kara the note he had written to her. "'The beginning of a grand adventure,' she read aloud, and tapped the date written below the message, the date the picture had been taken.

Dianne couldn't help but remember the good times with her father, how he'd always encouraged and praised her when she'd done well in school or at one of the extra-curricular activities he'd pushed her into. He was determined that she'd be take his place one day as head of his company and done whatever he could to encourage it. If one nice thing could be said about her father, it was that he wasn't in the least bit chauvinistic.

"He wanted the very best for me; we just…disagreed about what that was. Big business never appealed to me." It had been her father's obsession, after all, that had driven her mother away. "I wanted a simpler life, and I found a perfect one with your papa." She picked up one of the pictures of Andrae Mistrahl, and stared at it with a sigh. She missed him horribly, but she couldn't dwell on what she'd lost. They had enough money for a two day stay at the motel. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to be here for a second night. "I met him in my third year in university, and we married shortly after I graduated. At most, I had wanted a small shop to run, that would provide for us, not the kind of empire dad was so proud of having built."

"Are there pictures of grandma?"

"Dad has them all," her mother answered after a moment's hesitation. Assuming he hasn't burned them all. He never did take rejection well.

"Maybe he'll show them to me," Kara said hopefully. "What's grandma like?"

"Well," her mother smiled. "She's smart and pretty and very strong willed." Which, she reflected, was probably a sign that the marriage was doomed from the start. Her parents had been drawn together by mutual interests and similar opinions on many subjects, but Alan Sinclair could never tolerate an equal for long. He wanted someone who would agree with him or stay silent, while hosting impressive parties and being, in short, the perfect trophy wife. Kara Sinclair had soon made it clear that she wanted a lot more out of life.

Dianne smiled ruefully, remembering some of the arguments her parents had had before the split. "She has a bit of a temper, and you look a lot like pictures I've seen of her when she was a little girl. That's one of the reasons I named you after her." Kara was about to ask another question, but Dianne cut her off. "Tomorrow morning, we'll go down to dad's office. He always gets to work at 8:00 sharp; you could set your watch by him. We'll wait for him in the lobby and try one more time to talk to him." Maybe he'll at least be civil with Kara there. Setting the pictures aside, she climbed into bed next to her daughter and pulled the covers over them.

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Sinclair Industries' corporate headquarters was located in a thoroughly modern glass and steel high-rise that the company owned. Located in downtown L.A. where real estate prices were astronomical, the building itself was a source of considerable revenue, and the owner made sure that the businesses that rented space and the visitors who came to do business with them knew that they were in the presence of only the best. The lobby of her father's office building hosted a series of sculptures and other works of art that Sinclair Industries owned. They were rotated on a regular basis and grabbed the attention of visitors to the building as soon as they walked in. The corporate headquarters was a showplace letting people know they were in the presence of the best. Aside from the trappings, however, the place hadn't changed since Dianne had been there last.

The guard eyed the two as they entered the lobby and approached them as they took a seat on a marble bench to wait. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"We're here to surprise my grandpa," Kara piped up.

"He works here?" the man, whose nametag read Ethan, asked. Kara nodded. "Well, I don't suppose there's any harm in you waiting here for him to come in." He returned to the desk and went back to work, occasionally glancing up to see that they hadn't gotten into any mischief. The lobby currently hosted a painting that cost more than half-a-year's wages for a glorified doorman like himself.

It was just 8:00 when the front doors were pushed open and Alan Sinclair strode into the lobby. He spared a nod for Ethan before turning toward the elevator as he always did, and caught sight of Dianne and Kara. He stopped and regarded them coldly as Dianne rose and came toward him with Kara's small hand clutched in hers.

Sinclair turned toward the desk and gestured for Ethan, who dutifully came to him. Sinclair spoke a few quiet words and made a gesture toward the door before moving unhurriedly toward the elevator.

Dianne blinked in surprise and picked up the pace. The guard stepped between them. "I'm sorry, ma'am, you two will have to leave."

"What?" Dianne asked, startled. She glanced toward her father. "Dad, you can't be serious!"

Ethan looked startled and glanced at his employer as the man stepped into the elevator, but he intercepted Dianne as she tried to take advantage and go around him. "I'm sorry. Really, but he insists that you be removed from the building." When it looked like she would argue, he said, "I can call the police if necessary." At her stunned look, he flinched a bit. "I'm sorry. I need this job."

Dianne glared at the man a moment longer before turning toward the door and leading Kara away. "Mommy?"

"I'm sorry, honey. Grandpa's not done being a jackass."

"What's a jackass?" Kara asked, as the doors swung shut behind them.

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THE PRESENT

"Mom didn't cry that time," Kara continued. "We sat on a bench outside the building for a while, so she could calm down and think, but then she got up, took my hand and we started walking toward the motel. She stopped at every promising looking place along the way to collect a job application. She asked at one place about homeless shelters, what money we had wouldn't last long. She was very…practical about it all. About12 blocks from your building, she asked me to wait at a bus stop while she went across the street to a bar that had a 'help wanted' sign. She wasn't going to take a little girl into a place like that. She came out a few minutes later with another piece of paper."

"So she proved pragmatic, at least," Sinclair interrupted, with an approving nod, trying to hide his surprise at the very accurate retelling. "You are missing quite a bit of the story, though. It isn't surprising. It was sixteen years ago, and you were so young," he began, trying to sound reasonable, "it isn't a surprise that you didn't know-"

"I remember perfectly," she snapped. "I remember the way you reacted. I remember what you were wearing and the name of the guard you had throw us out. I remember the walk from your building and the name of the bar. And I will never forget the sight of my mother being run down in the street."

There was dead silence in the room as this sank in. Sinclair stared at her in shock. After a moment, he found his voice. "You blame me." It wasn't a question.

"For that and what came after, yes, I blame you," Kara answered in a tone that dropped the temperature in the room. "When the police asked me where home was, and who they should call, what could I do? I told them about my grandfather. I gave them mom's purse with all her ID and papers. There was no doubt about her identity. Then I waited, and I kept waiting while I went from the Child Services office to the orphanage. I kept asking when my grandpa was coming. Eventually they got tired of humoring me."

"I don't pretend to know what you've been through," he began quietly. "All I know is what I see before me now, an extraordinary young woman who has overcome every hardship-"

"Shut up," Kara cut him off. "I gave the only picture that car didn't destroy, the one of you and mom, to a social worker as proof to take to you. I never saw it again. She told me she'd lost it, and I cried for a week. After that…, I never mentioned you again."

"This picture," Minx began hesitantly. "It was of him and your mother standing in front of a mansion?"

"Yes," Kara glanced at her, distracted.

"That's the picture on his desk. That's what got me to look into his connection to you!"

"On his desk?" Kara said, incredulously. She clenched her fists. I'm going to kill him!

"Your mother and I each kept a copy of that picture," Sinclair said. "I'll make you a copy. It is the least that I can do, but if you'll allow me, I'd like to do so much more. You have surpassed your mother in many ways. I can't help but be proud."

"If the one on your desk has a note and a date on the back in your handwriting," Kara cut him off, ignoring his offer and praise, "it's not a copy." She started to advance on him, slowly. "You must really think I'm an idiot."

"Not at all, Kara; do try to be reasonable. What would I gain by-"

"Stop talking," Jo interrupted stepping up beside Kara, and placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "I don't know what you hoped to accomplish by coming here, but I don't think anyone in the room believes you weren't told about your daughter and Kara by someone official. Are we supposed to believe that the police and social workers didn't do their jobs? That maybe the guard in your lobby or your secretary turned them away with you being none the wiser?" She was plenty angry herself, but she was determined to at least remind Kara there was a room full of witnesses.

"This is none of your concern," Sinclair gave her cold look, unhappy about the interruption or the point she'd made; then he pushed on before she could speak again. "I came here to make an offer, and try to make amends for not being there for you. You've more than proven you can become a success and build a good life for yourself from nothing. What could you accomplish with all that I have to offer?"

Kara stared at the man incredulously, but Jo spoke up first. "You're right about one thing, Sinclair. You weren't there. I was," she barely held her temper in check. "I was the one who stuck by her when the other kids called her a liar, saying she was making up stories about a rich grandfather. I'm the one who held a six-year-old girl while she cried and wondered why you didn't come, wondered what she had done wrong to make you hate her."

"She's family," Kara told him when Jo became too angry to speak. "Something you're not." He opened his mouth, but Kara didn't let him speak, deciding she'd heard more than enough. "Blood and family aren't the same thing. Everyone in this room can attest to that." She looked around to see the Starlight girls and the Holograms nodding in agreement. "Family is choice, and you chose to throw yours away."

"The only thing anyone wants from you," Jo added, pushing down her anger, "is a picture."

"Have it sent over," Kara added. "Don't make me come and get it." She gathered Jo and the twins and left the mansion, nodding to Jerrica, who nodded back in understanding, silently agreeing to get rid of Sinclair before the four of them returned.

"Seriously," Pizzazz said to Sinclair after Kara had left. "You don't want her coming to your office."

"I don't understand," Minx said shaking her head. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Riot put a hand on her shoulder. "Things don't always work out as we hope. You know that, Minx." He didn't understand everything that had passed between Kara and Sinclair, but he did note that Sinclair had never denied knowing about Kara. What the man could have possibly gained by abandoning his granddaughter in an orphanage was beyond him.

The fact that he was proud that she had become a success, even if it wasn't in something he deemed worthwhile, suggested that… he wasn't sure what it suggested, but he didn't like the implications. He resolved to be wary when dealing with the man.

"Mr. Sinclair?" Jerrica began.

"I know," he said. "I suspected it wouldn't go smoothly, but she still surprised me." Strangely, the notion seemed to please him as much as it irritated him.

"By remembering you'd abandoned her in an orphanage?" Rio asked, stepping up next to Jerrica. He looked decidedly hostile.

"Hardly," Sinclair snorted, "but I don't need to explain myself to you." He turned on his heel and walked out as if he wasn't about to be thrown out.