The Power of a Name
Chapter Eight
A soft hand was stroking her hair, and an even softer voice was calling her back from unconsciousness. Her mind still felt blurry, and it took her more than a few minutes to remember everything that had happened. She couldn't make her eyes open. They felt like huge rocks protruding from her face. Still, considering the beating she had taken, she felt surprisingly little pain. Oh, the wonders of modern medicine. She was ready to go back to sleep, until the voice spoke again.
"Tempest, can you hear me?"
"I told you, Brady. She's going to be in and out of it a lot due to all the painkillers she's taking. This isn't the time to do this. It's barely even legal! She can get an annulment in an instant."
It took all of her concentration to follow their words, and she still didn't understand what they were talking about. Though she was a little better off. At least now she knew who they were. That lunatic Brady Black was still here. Why the hell wouldn't he just leave her alone? She felt no gratitude towards him for saving her life, only annoyance. The other man was one of the doctors she vaguely recollected from when Brady had brought her here.
"Then, that's her right," she heard Brady say. There was an iron quality in his tone that she'd never noticed before. It frightened her, as so many things about him did. "But I'm getting her out of here, Dr. Wesley. She's going to be safe. After that, it's up to her. All the paperwork is ready. I just need her consent."
What was he talking about now? She couldn't figure it out through the fog in her brain. She finally managed to pry her eyelids open the slightest distance. She still couldn't truly see much except blurry shapes and that damn fluorescent lighting. "You're awake." The joy in Brady's voice grated on her nerves. She wasn't even glad to be alive, let alone awake.
Her hand was gently encased in his; and he raised it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the smooth skin. She wished she had the strength to pull away. As it was, she couldn't find the energy to do much of anything. "Beloved, I want you to marry me."
Her laughter was dry and hollow at Brady's earnest, quiet words. "Oh, sure," she bit out sarcastically, even though it hurt like hell to speak.
Apparently, Brady chose to ignore the sarcasm in her tone however, because the next thing she knew a third man was in the room along with Nicole to serve as a second witness. They'd been waiting in the hall. While she was trying to overcome her shock, Nicole bent down beside her. "Hey, honey. You're gonna be fine. He's going to take real good care of you. I hope you don't mind. I gave him your birth certificate, everything he needed. Found them in your stuff. Just think, Sapphire, you've got a chance to start over. See? Like you wanted."
She only shook her head in mute disagreement. This wasn't what she wanted at all. But there was nothing she could do about it. That man would control her life now, as she'd sworn no man would ever do to her again. Then, the stranger began to speak; and she heard the words of the wedding ceremony as if from far away. The drugs were starting to kick in again, leaving everything hazy and indistinct. She barely heard Brady pledge her life to her.
And then, the priest was speaking to her, only he wasn't really. He called her be that damned name. Sapphire DiMera. She chuckled bitterly. This didn't really mean anything after all. Nicole had given Brady the only proof of identification she had, but it wasn't real. It was forged. Fake. Like everything else about her life. Like this marriage.
She was still following that thought when the pastor prompted her to say 'I do.' The deadness of her laugh made its way into the heart of every person witnessing the unorthodox service. "Sure. Why not?" was the only answer she gave. It didn't matter what she said, what she did. There was no escape for her. The blessed state of unconsciousness drifted over her again, drowning out the rest of the ceremony. She didn't feel Brady slip his mother's wedding ring onto her finger. She didn't feel the slight pressure of his lips on her forehead when the priest declared he could kiss his bride.
~~*~~
For some reason, unknown even to himself, Jason headed to the park again every afternoon after work that week. He had seen that Lockhart girl no less than a dozen times at school over the last three days. He wasn't even consciously looking for her. She was just there. What made her stand out so much? There were thousands of kids in that school. Why did he keep running into her?
He told himself that she had nothing to do with his decision to make a daily run through the park. In fact, Jason convinced himself that the only reason he was running there was that the odds of her being there in the afternoons, when he had seen her in the morning, were slim to none. But he refused to analyze the reason behind his suddenly slower pace once he had reached the vicinity where he had seen her a few days prior. He reassured himself that he always studied the faces of other people when he ran, always made copious mental notes about his surroundings. It had nothing whatsoever to do with Mimi Lockhart.
~~*~~
"So has your dad found a new job yet?" Susan asked, as she and Mimi ate their ice cream sundaes while watching their little siblings play together.
"Not yet. But it's only been a few days, Susan," Mimi pointed out, mildly irritated. Why couldn't Susan ever just enjoy the good things in life? Why was she in a constant effort to bring Mimi down? "Listen, I don't want to talk about it right now. Let's just soak in this beautiful day." She looked around her, savoring the laughter of children, the sweet smell of the woods, and the roar of the river. She loved the park. It was such a blessed reprieve from…everything.
"That was a killer final Mr. Meade gave us," Susan remarked glumly.
Mimi groaned and rolled her eyes. "Yes, it was. And now, it's over. All our finals are over, and we won't find out how well we did until at least Monday. So there's no use sitting around being little miss Eeyore all weekend. I personally plan on having a great time. Think about it, Su. We've done it! In a matter of weeks, we'll graduate and put high school behind us forever. So let's make the most of this time, okay?"
"Do you suppose you'll still be able to go to Europe this summer, what with your dad and everything?"
Mimi jumped off the bench, throwing her ice cream away and raising her hands in surrender. "I give up!" she cried in frustration. "Enjoy your lovely little rain cloud, Su. I'm going to go play with the kids. At least they still remember how to have fun." She skipped off brightly, ignoring Susan's mutterings about childishness and the need to grow up. Mimi didn't feel like growing up today. She felt like being a kid. She had so little time left to enjoy it.
"Hey, Connor!" Mimi called up to her rambunctious brother as he dangled from the top of the monkey bars. "Wanna play hide and seek?" Within minutes, Mimi had rounded up most of the neighborhood children to play with them. They had even dragged Susan out of her funk enough to agree to count first.
By the time Mimi had made sure that the kids were all scampering off in the right directions, Susan was almost done counting. Too competitive to just let herself be caught, Mimi ran as fast as she could towards the path by the river. She knew the perfect hiding spot by the embankment. She laughed merrily at her own foolishness as she neared her destination. She loved the feeling of the fresh air in her lungs and the warm spring sun on her back. She just loved life.
And then, right as she cleared the wood and stepped onto the path, she found herself colliding with someone and falling backwards onto the dirty ground. "Oh, here. Let me help you up. Are you okay?" came a familiar voice, as she saw his hand extended out towards her. She laughed nervously and then flushed bright red when he had lifted her up, and she found herself confront by a bare muscular chest. He laughed too, and she was instantly enchanted by the sound. "Don't you have that sudden feeling of déjà vu?"
Mimi smiled as she too was struck by the similarity to their first meeting. "Maybe someone's trying to tell us something," she responded, only half-joking, if at all. Inwardly, she was thanking God and all the angels for giving her yet another sign that this was meant to be.
He frowned suddenly, and she wished she knew what he was thinking. Had she said something wrong? But as quickly as the mood had come upon him, he shrugged it off. "Maybe you're just being warned to slow down," he teased. "Does this happen to you often, Miss Lockhart?"
He remembered her name! She barely restrained herself from literally jumping for joy. He hadn't forgotten her this time. Mimi was so struck by hearing him call her by name—even by surname—that she almost forgot to reply. "Er…um…not really," she stammered. "Just around you apparently. Think that means anything?"
Again, she felt him withdraw from her, without knowing the reason. Mimi frowned. Her and her big mouth. What had she done wrong now? "So then there's no reason you were running like a banshee through the woods?" he asked finally, as Mimi saw the black expression on his face melt away.
She giggled, blushing a deep crimson. She hated his ability to make her feel like a child, and she knew her answer would only confirm her that way in his eyes. "Well, um, actually, I'm playing hide and seek with my little brother and his friends." Even knowing how foolish that would make her sound. Mimi was incapable of lying to him.
"Hide and seek, huh?" He grinned down at her. She looked so adorable when she was embarrassed. There was something about her that called to him. While it should have been easy to write her off as an immature child, it wasn't. She still carried with her the freedom and innocence of a childlike spirit, but she was without a doubt a woman. And it was the purity of the woman's heart that kept drawing him back towards her. A purity he was sure had died with his Belle…
Mimi couldn't believe it. There wasn't the slightest hint of derision in the tone of his voice or the look in his eyes. In fact, he looked almost…wistful? She had the uneasy feeling that he wasn't seeing her anymore, even though his eyes ere glued to her face. He was thinking of someone else, and the thought was giving him pain. Without taking time to analyze the situation any further, Mimi did what she felt compelled to do. She timidly reached up and put a hand to his cheek, offering him wordless comfort for whatever it was that tortured him so.
Jason stood frozen in shock for a moment, unnerved her gentle caress. As the reality of concerned green eyes replaced the vision of loving blue ones, he saw the honest care in Mimi's face. How had she been able to see his pain so easily, without him even saying a word? It confused and unsettled him. In his entire life, no one had been able to clearly read Jason Master. Not even Belle, and she had known him better than anyone. And yet, this virtual stranger, who didn't even know his name, let alone the details of his past, had in one moment memorized his soul.
They stood like that for untold moments, frozen in time as silent communion passed between their hearts. Mimi was sure her heart was beating loud enough that even he must hear it, especially when it gave an added jump when his hand rose up and covered her own on his cheek. Even though she had convinced herself they were soulmates after their very first meeting, Mimi hadn't quite comprehended how powerful that connection between them was until that moment. It was as if every single nerve and fiber of her body were winding themselves together with all that was him, fusing one being where once there were two.
"Meems! Where are you? This isn't funny!" Susan's calls broke the spell of the moment.
As if waking from a dream, he shook his head and pulled himself bodily away from her touch. Mimi let her hand fall limply back to her side, disappointed at his emotional as well as his physical abandonment of her. Unshed tears swam in her eyes as she begged him wordlessly to make her understand. He took another step back from her and caught sight of the friend looking for her. With a silent, grim wave back in Mimi's direction, Jason took off, knowing now for a fact that Mimi Lockhart was the greatest threat to his vow to Belle's memory.
"There you are!" Susan exclaimed with a mixture of relief and irritation as she found her friend standing on the path in plain sight, gawking at a disappearing jogger. "Have you been here all this time?"
Mimi nodded blankly, before forcing herself back to attention. "Huh?" she remarked intelligently to Susan. Inwardly, she found herself fuming once again at her best friend's bad timing. "Oh hey, Su. Sorry. I ran into someone I know. Anyway, how's the game going? Are you still it? Seen Connor anywhere?"
Susan eyed Mimi's guilty face with suspicion. Whenever Mimi was hiding something, her face turned that peculiar shade of red and she started rambling nonsensically. "Who exactly did you run into, Meems?" she asked pointedly. Seeing even more color creep into her friend's cheeks, Susan groaned. "Oh please! Not again with this mystery guy, Mimi. It's just not healthy, girl."
Mimi rolled her eyes. "As opposed to your lifelong yet never voice love for Kevin?" she countered, tired of Susan's hypocritical lectures. "Or Kevin's obsession with me? Yeah, Su, those sound perfectly sane and logical to me. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this isn't some passing crush. I love this man, Susan, with all my heart."
Susan crossed her arms and raised her brow imperiously. "'This man', Mimi? Please tell me you at least bothered to learn his name this time?"
Mimi paled. "Damn!" She knew she'd forgotten something.
~~*~~
Her mama's voice raised in anger pulled the child from sleep. She pushed off her covers and got out of bed, her deep blue eyes wide with fright. In all her seven years, she'd never heard Mama sound so out-of-control. There was another voice too, one she didn't recognize. She crept to her bedroom door, small bare feet padding almost silently over the worn carpet. She knelt down by the crack in the doorway, her eyes worriedly assessing the situation.
Mama's frame was instantly recognizable, even with her back turned. She recognized the other person too, from a picture she had found once before Mama took it away from her. The tall, stately, gray-haired man was her grandfather, even though she'd never met him. Mama said he was a very bad man; and looking at his huge form as he towered over Mama, his face purple with rage, she could believe it. She shuddered, and it wasn't from the cold. What was he doing here?
She and Mama had a nice life all alone in their tiny little apartment. They took care of each other, because she didn't have a daddy. She'd never had one, and never thought much about it. When she had first started school and seen the other children with their daddies, she'd asked Mama about it. But Mama said not to worry about it. Lots of little girls didn't have daddies and were better off for it, Mama said.
Besides, she was happy the way things were, even though Mama had to work almost all the time. She had to stay with the old couple in the apartment next door while Mama was working. She didn't mind. Mrs. Lane always kept everything clean and pretty; and Mr. Lane liked to listen to opera. She liked opera, too. She'd sit in his lap for hours, just listening to the music. Sometimes, she even sang along. Mr. Lane liked that. He said she had a beautiful voice and that, given time and training, she could be a great soprano someday.
She had told Mama once that she wanted to be a singer when she grew up. Mama had just smiled in that sad way of hers. Mama always looked sad, even when she said she was happy. Except she didn't look sad now. She looked furious. Mama had never been so angry before. Not even when she had broken one of Mama's crystal prisms. Mama loved prisms. She liked to fill the room with them, so that on sunny days the whole apartment shimmered with rainbows.
"I refuse to let you do this, Nancy," her grandfather's voice boomed, scaring the child even more as she curled up by the door. "You'll destroy a good man's reputation if you persist."
Mama's laughter was cold and heartless. It pierced her heart. Why was Mama laughing like that? Why would anyone laugh like that? "A good man? Oh, I suppose you have to make yourself believe that, don't you, Father? After all, you're the one who brought him into our house, into our lives. Hell, he's still allowed there. I'm the one who's not, isn't that right, Father? I'm the victim, yet I'm the one being punished."
"You were a victim of nothing!" he thundered. "You won't spread such libelous slanders about my respected friend and colleague. Do you hear me? I won't allow it!"
"You won't allow it?" Nancy repeated incredulously. "You don't have any say in my life at all any more, Father. I'm not under your roof or your control. I support myself and my daughter by myself. And I'd rather burn in hell than accept one penny's worth of help from you."
"You've made your position on that subject quite clear, my dear. And even if you hadn't, I wouldn't offer you anything. Not when you insist on behaving like this. If, as you say, you want to take care of yourself, what's the point of bringing up the past? What do you hope to gain from it, if not financial stability?"
Mama laughed again, that same bitter, empty laugh. "That's always your first thought, isn't it, Father? Money. Money and power. Which is why you insist on believing—or at least claiming to believe—his lies over the truth out of the mouth of a daughter who never once has lied to you. Because it gets you more in the end. Losing my love and trust was only a minor consideration. But I don't care about those things. I want justice. Or at least I want the world to know what kind of a monster that man really is."
From her bedroom, the little girl shook with fear at the look of cold hatred on her grandfather's face. He stepped forward menacingly and clamped his hands down hard on Mama's shoulders. "You're a fool, Nancy. Do you think anyone in the world who matters will believe you? They'd take one look at you and this hovel you call a home and determine that you're nothing but a scam artist. You'll accomplish nothing except your own public humiliation."
Nancy shook free of her father's grasp. "You're wrong. You see, I have proof in the form of that precious little girl you refuse to acknowledge as your granddaughter. All it will take is a simple DNA test to confirm that she is his daughter. Everyone will know what happened to me. I was raped, Father. You can live in denial for your entire life if you choose to, but I won't. I was raped!" Mama was sounding more hysterical by the moment. "You don't even care, do you? I'm your daughter, damn you! Why don't you care?"
He just sneered down at the sobbing figure before him in disgust. "I refuse to listen to your histrionics any longer, Nancy. I came here to deliver you an ultimatum. Drop this vendetta you have, or I will stand with him in declaring that you were a willing partner in the affair. After all, no one will doubt the grieved confession of a father whose daughter refused to travel down the right path. Do you want to be painted as the whore you are for the whole world to see, Nancy? Especially in the eyes of that monstrosity you call your daughter? She should never have been born."
"Got to hell!" Nancy screamed through her tears. "Get out of my house, and go straight to hell where you belong!" Mama sat crumpled in a corner of the couch, weeping unrestrainedly. Apparently, her grandfather had nothing more to say for he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. "I hate him! I hate him! It's all his fault. All of it."
Mama's tears and exclamations didn't surprise her. Mama cried all the time. She knew there was nothing she could do, and she didn't want Mama to yell at her for eavesdropping so as silently as she could, she slipped back into bed. She tried to go back to sleep; but between the sound of Mama's tears and the conversation still ringing in her head, it was impossible. A lot of it had gone over her head, but certain things were impossible to forget.
Mama hated her daddy, whoever he was. She said he was a monster. And her grandfather said that she was a monstrosity, that she should never have been born. He was probably right. If not for her, Mama wouldn't be crying. If not for her, none of this would have been happening. She never should have been born. She wished she could cry like Mama did, but she never cried. It never helped Mama feel better, and she refused to be that weak.
She heard Mama's sobs die down and heard the telltale creak of her getting up from the couch. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, knowing Mama would come in to check on her before she went to bed. Sure enough, a few moments later, the door opened, and Mama walked in. She hoped Mama wouldn't be able to tell she was still awake. Soft fingers ran through her thick, dark hair as Mama bent low over her. "Mama loves you so much, sweetheart," she whispered. "Never forget that." Mama kissed her gently on the forehead and cheek before tiptoeing back out of the room.
She was just starting to fall back to sleep with a loud explosion followed by a thud brought her wide awake. "Mama!" she screamed, waiting for her mother to come in and tell her everything was all right. Mama didn't come.
"Mama!" she called again, this time taking the initiative and getting out of bed to see for herself. Summoning all her courage, she left her room and headed for her mother's bedroom, where the noise had come from. "Mama, where are you?" Still no answer. She pushed open her mother's door, paralyzed with fear at the sight that met her eyes.
Dark red liquid pooled out from her mother's mouth, staining the carpet and her hair with its sickly color. "Mama," she whimpered, kneeling on the floor near the frightening sight. "Mama, are you okay? What happened? Did you fall?" She reached for her mother's hand, only then noticing the dreadful specter of the gun that had fallen from her limp hand onto the floor. As some grasp of the situation settled on the child, a piercing cry, inarticulate in its misery, broke from her lips, shattering the stillness of the night…
"Wake up, Beloved! Shh, Tempest. It's all right. It was only a dream." Brady's panicked words didn't carry much comfort with them. But they brought her out of her fevered nightmare. And that was enough for now. Her mumblings had been disturbing, but that final scream was blood-curdling. He wished she would open up to him, let him know what it was that haunted her so, but he knew better than to press. Not yet. It was still too soon.
She looked around, once again aware of her surroundings, and the man who sat in constant vigil by her side. The man who was now her husband. He smoothed back her hair, just as her mother had done that night so many years ago. She shied away from the caress, as though he had struck her. Brady sighed, defeated once again in his efforts to reach her. This wasn't going to be easy. Not easy at all.