The sun was just dropping behind the treeline as Barbara came up the long drive that led to the house at Quest Compound. It was Christmas Eve, and through the front window of the family room she could just make out the gleam of colored lights on the Christmas tree and the dancing of the flames in the large fireplace. The drive and concrete parking pad around the corner of the house were both deserted and Barbara fervently prayed that at least one of the kids had made it back for the holidays. She parked the car along the drive near the house and before she could even turned off the engine, Benton was there, opening her door.
"Merry Christmas!" he greeted her, but Barbara heard the note of forced cheerfulness in his tone. She smiled up at him quickly.
"Merry Christmas to you, too. I'm sorry I'm late. I couldn't seem to get the last of my patients out of the waiting room this evening."
"No problem. It's going to be a pretty casual affair anyway, so you really aren't late."
"Good." She reached down and pressed the trunk release. "Can you help me with this stuff?"
"Absolutely." The two of them gathered an assortment of brightly wrapped packages, boxes, and bundles from the car and carried them all into the house. Race and Estella were waiting inside to relieve them of their burdens, and while Benton took Barbara's coat and hung it up in the closet, they put the packages under the tree. However, when Benton tried to lead her into the family room, she shook her head.
Gesturing to the lone box still sitting on the secretary in the entryway, she said, "Go on in and sit down. I need to take this stuff into the kitchen and then I'll be right with you."
"Go on, Benton," Estella seconded, coming out to join them. "I'll help Barbara get the food situated and we'll bring in the mulled cider when we come back." Benton nodded willingly and went to join Race as the two women picked up the box and headed in the other direction.
As soon as the kitchen door closed behind them, Barbara asked, "Where are they?"
"Who?" Estella asked, taking the casserole dish from the box and sliding it deftly into the oven.
"Don't give me that. You know who. Where are Jon and Jessie?"
Estella's face was shuttered as she replied, "We haven't heard from them. As far as we know, they may not even be here."
"I don't believe it," Barbara said flatly. "After all they've been through, Jon would not miss Christmas with his father."
"If he's forced to choose between Benton and Jessie, he might." Estella jerked open the refrigerator door with enough force to cause the bottles in the door to rattle alarmingly. "I don't know what's wrong with that girl!" she said in sudden anger. "There's no excuse for the way she's been acting."
"When was the last time you talked with her?"
"Two weeks ago," Estella replied, thumping a large, covered plastic bowl down on the kitchen counter with enough force to make Barbara wince. "The night we were decorating. She called to say she wasn't coming home for Christmas. She actually wanted us to come to Boston instead. And she made it very clear that the "us" didn't include Benton."
"And you haven't heard from her since?"
"No. We haven't heard from either of them. I tried to call a couple of times during the last week but they were never home."
"Did you leave a message?"
"No. What would have been the point?"
Barbara sighed. "Give her a chance, Estella. She's having a hard time right now. If you don't push, she'll come around."
"You sound just like Benton," she replied bitterly. "You know, I don't care how hard of a time she's having, Barbara. I raised her to have better manners than this. She's acting just like my mother, and believe me, that's no compliment!"
In the ten days since Barbara had gone to Boston, she hadn't been back out to this house. Between work and the various holidays functions she'd been committed to, she hadn't had much free time. And during that period, she had almost convinced herself that her 'possession' by the spirit of Rachel Quest had been a figment of her imagination. She'd had no sense of that cold presence at all. But now she felt the spirit stir within her once more. There was no particular emotion tied to it . . . only a profound sense of awareness and waiting. Waiting for what, Barbara wasn't entirely certain, but she had the feeling that whatever it was, tonight would be pivotal.
Why me? she wondered suddenly. After all of these years, why now and why did she choose me?
'Because you asked.'
Barbara's breath caught sharply and she went absolutely still, uncertain if she had really heard that soft voice. "What did you say?"
"I said that I need to have a serious talk with that girl," Estella repeated, turning back to the refrigerator.
'She can't hear me. Only you.'
"Why?"
"What you do mean, 'why'?" Estella said irritably. "Surely you don't condone her behavior?"
"No, of course not," Barbara responded hastily, feeling totally disoriented. She couldn't believe this was happening. Maybe she was just going crazy . . .
'You asked me to let him go . . . to give you a chance to make him happy. Surely you didn't expect me to do that without knowing if you truly loved him? And what of my sons? You would also be replacing me in their lives."
"No!" Barbara protested. "I would never ask that!"
"Ask what? What are you talking about?!?" Estella demanded. "I swear, you haven't heard a word I've said!"
Shaking her head sharply, Barbara focused on the other woman. "I'm sorry, Estella. You got me thinking of something else, and my mind wandered. Look, I'd rather Benton didn't know about this, but I went to Boston to talk with Jon and Jessie about this entire situation."
Estella stared at her in astonishment. "You did? When? And why?"
Barbara shrugged, carefully suppressing her flash of irritation. "Why not? I'm so deeply embroiled in your private lives now, what difference does a little more make? I went about ten days ago . . . shortly after Jessie called to say she wasn't coming home for Christmas. It turns out that there was a lot more to this than any of us were aware. I meant it when I said that Jessie is struggling and she really does need some time."
Estella was staring at her intently. "What else is going on? I know she's having a hard time dealing with the things that happened in Bangalore, but -"
"It has nothing to do with Bangalore. It has to do with Jon and their life." Barbara sighed at Estella's expression. "Don't ask me. Please. You know I can't tell you what she said. Just let it be enough that the incident between Jon and Benton came at a particularly bad time, and the way it played out couldn't have been worse. She's more angry for Jon than she is at Benton, and that's a good sign. She said she'd try and she took a few hesitant steps in that direction. Just give her a little time to work this out."
"I just hate this! We no more than get one thing resolved and ten more crop up out of nowhere. Just once, I'd like to have a quiet spell where no one is trying to kill us or steal something and we were all getting along!"
Barbara laughed, but before she could reply, a sound at the front door caused both of them to move quickly in that direction.
"Hadji!" "Kefa!"
When the two women stepped into the entryway, they saw Hadji engulfed in his father's arms while Kefira knelt on the floor clutching her brother and sister tightly. Everyone was laughing and tears were plentiful as Estella surged forward to join the rest of them.
"But how?" Benton was sputtering, practically beside himself. "I didn't think -"
"Surely, after everything that has happened, you did not think we would miss Christmas?" Hadji replied with a grin, hugging him again.
With a final quick caress to her little brother's head, Kefira rose and turned to hug the older man as well. "Nothing could have kept us away," she assured him.
"I am afraid that we cannot stay too long," Hadji began, but he was interrupted when the front door opened again and Jonny came in. He was as astonished to see Hadji as the rest of them and the round of hugs and greetings started all over. Barbara looked at the door expectantly and, after a moment, Jessie appeared, standing hesitantly on the threshold, as if she was unsure of her welcome. None of them appeared to notice her right away and the expression on her face was so forlorn, Barbara felt like she wanted to cry. She glanced over at Benton just as he looked up and their eyes locked. With a slight tilt of her head, she gestured toward the doorway. Benton's eyes followed her gesture and froze, his breath catching audibly. Then he shook loose from his sons and took a hesitant step toward the young woman standing all alone in the icy wind.
"Jessica?" The sounds of merriment died as the two faced each other.
"Dr. Quest," she replied, still rooted in the open doorway.
"Why don't you come in where it's warm?" he asked, holding out a tentative hand to her. "It's too cold for you to stand in the doorway."
She nodded and hesitantly stepped inside the house. Beside her, Barbara could feel Estella draw breath to speak, but Barbara grasped her arm, squeezing hard. When Estella's startled gaze met hers, Barbara shook her head slightly and then turned her attention back to the pair. Jessie had closed the door and was now standing there stiffly.
"Can I take your coat?" Benton asked gently.
She hesitated a moment longer and then shrugged out of it. "That's okay. I can get it." There was no sharpness in the tone - just quiet acknowledgement of his unspoken offer to join them. "You don't have to wait on me."
Again Barbara could feel Estella draw breath to speak and the frown on her face warned that the words were likely to be sharp. This time, not only did Barbara catch her, but so did Race. Their eyes met across Estella's head and Barbara could see the question in Race's eyes. 'She's trying,' Barbara mouthed at him and he nodded. Laying a pacifying hand on his wife's shoulder, he shook his head at her silently.
"I know," Benton had acknowledged. "We're just glad to have you home. We've missed you." Hazel eyes locked with green ones and then Benton added softly, "I've missed you."
Barbara saw Jessie's bottom lip start to quiver and she caught it between her teeth for a moment. Finally, she whispered hoarsely, "I've missed you, too."
With tremendous care, Benton reached out and drew her into his arms, hugging her gently. After a long moment, she returned the embrace. It was still hesitant and reserved, but it was a start. After a moment, she stepped back again and swallowed hard.
"Do you . . . suppose . . . we could talk . . . later? About . . . things?"
He smiled. "Whenever you like . . . for as long as it takes," he agreed, putting an arm around her shoulders and drawing her toward the family room. Beside her, Barbara felt Estella let out a pent up breath and then she and her husband moved to follow the others.
Carefully, Barbara stepped back, allowing the others to leave her behind. Right now was a time for family; they had no need for an outsider. Furthermore, there was something that she needed to do, as well. On light cat's feet, she moved down the hall and into the study, closing the door silently behind her. The tree sitting in the big library window gleamed warmly in the darkness as Barbara advanced and turned to face the portrait once more.
"What do you want of me?" she demanded in a low, intense voice.
'To know you. To know if you will actually do what you say.' With no warning, the candles on the library table behind her flickered to life, and as they did so, Barbara could feel the temperature in the room begin to drop. With a rush, the presence of Rachel Quest's spirit overwhelmed her and everything went dark. And then she was gone, leaving Barbara with some indefinable sense of loss. As it grew colder, a mist began to gather and slowly it coalesced into an ethereal form. She seemed to float directly in front of Barbara, causing the image of the portrait to dim slightly, as though being viewed through fog. And yet, both sets of eyes . . . the ones from the portrait and the ones from the ghost . . . seemed to bore into Barbara as she once again had that uneasy sense of being judged.
'My husband is a very private man,' the spirit said. 'He lets very few people get truly close, and those he does, he cares for deeply. When I died, the pain he suffered was so intense, it drew me back from the darkness and for years, I lingered near him, doing what I could to ease his pain and loss. I gave no thought to the possibility that I could be doing either my husband or my son harm. But a year ago, I watched as my son became lost in traumatic events from his past that he couldn't let go of, just as Benton had come to cling to me. I realized then that by lingering here, I had prevented Benton from grieving properly and he had come to dwell only in the past. And without even realizing it, he taught our son to do the same.'
The sadness in her tone brought tears to Barbara's eyes, and she had the insane urge to reach out in some way and offer comfort to this wayward spirit. Somehow, her thoughts must have communicated themselves, because a soft smile touched her lips and the room seemed to warm slightly.
'And so, while he was faced with the physical evidence of what my presence had done, I left him . . . forced him to let go.' Barbara could see tears brimming in Rachel's eyes as she remembered that final conversation. 'It was the hardest thing I have ever done.'
"Love can give us strength we never imagined we could possess."
'Yes. And I thought that once he had finally let go, that I would rest.'
"But you haven't been able to do that."
'No.'
"Why?"
'You have to ask me that? Even as I forced him to release me, I could sense something wrong . . . a growing darkness that seemed to shadow him. And so I lingered and watched . . . helpless to prevent it as he betrayed our son and drove him away.'
"It wasn't his fault!" Barbara exclaimed. "He couldn't control the way he was acting."
'No, he couldn't,' Rachel acknowledged. 'And I couldn't help him. By forcing him to release me, I had lost my ability to protect him, and the evil was allowed to overtake him.'
Barbara's breath exploded out of her. "You mean, you had been blocking . . . "
'Yes, for many years. I had no idea what it was. Only that the impulses felt foreign and I didn't trust them.'
"But, if you could do that, then why did you allow the chip to work in the first place?" Barbara exclaimed, an unreasonable surge of anger washing through her.
The apparition gestured helplessly. 'My influence has always been limited. Love is strong, Barbara Mason, but anger and evil carry much more force. I could speak to him, I could comfort him after a fashion, and with a great deal of effort, I could sometimes prevent things from happening to him. But only here. I was tied to his home . . .' she gestured to the portrait behind her '. . . tied to that. It was my anchor, if you will. As long as that portrait hung in his home, I could come to him.'
"But you left here two weeks ago," Barbara protested.
'Yes, but to do so required that I take up residence in you and that I separate myself from the portrait. The longer I was away the weaker I grew.'
"Which is why you seemed to disappear after we went to Boston."
'Yes. I allowed my anger and grief to overwhelm me and it cost me much of my strength.'
"But if the portrait's still here, that means you can still come to him."
Rachel shook her head. 'I do not believe I could. I told you that anger and evil carry more force in the spirit realm and this is true. It is the reason why a malevolent spirit can do so much damage. But for someone like me, who remains simply out of love for another, it requires an incredibly strong tie and a belief by the living individual that ghost exists for them to be able to manifest. Benton is a phenomenonologist. He's spent a good portion of his life researching strange occurrences, and he's has had experience with restless spirits, so he was prepared to believe. In the days after my death, he focused so much of his grief and longing on the image of me in that portrait . . .'
"That he created the anchor that called you back."
'Yes,' she agreed with a nod. 'But last Christmas I cut those ties, forcing him to believe that I had gone for good. So now, while I can linger here because the portrait still remains, I can no longer appear or communicate with him.' The look she gave Barbara was solemn. 'Nor would I if I could. He has finally begun to heal and I won't interfere again.' The spirit tilted her head, gazing at Barbara earnestly. 'You believe that I stand in your way, but I don't. He cares for you. He doesn't understand how much yet, but he does.'
"We're friends . . . nothing more."
'A lie, even told to yourself, is still a lie, Rachel counseled Barbara. 'While residing within you, I found out what I needed to know. Your love for him is deep and abiding . . . as deep as mine ever was. It is the tie that binds us; the reason I can appear to you and could enter you at need. Also, you have empathy; that strengthens our connection.'
"That's not -" Barbara began, intending to deny that her actions were in any way special, but Rachel cut her off.
'Why else would you have traveled so far to care for a young woman who was hurting one you love so much?'
"Jon loves her, and he matters to me. Furthermore, Benton loves her, too."
'Yes, but you have said several times that given time, she will work it out on her own. Why did you feel you had to go so far to attempt to ease the way? And why did you have the impulse to comfort me just now?'
"I -I don't know."
'You did it because you care . . . just as you cared for the men wounded in the fighting here last year. And you made no distinction based on which side they fought. They were injured and in pain and that was all you needed to know.'
Barbara gestured helplessly. "I'm a doctor. It's what I do."
'A woman of compassion who loves my husband and my sons. Yes, it is our bond. But tell me, why do you refuse to admit that you love him?'
"I'll admit it. I do love him . . . more than I know how to say. But he's not ready."
'And when will he be ready?'
"When he's found his own center; when he learns to be independent; when his own happiness and willingness to live doesn't rely on anyone else. You taught him what it meant to be happy and somehow he came to equate that happiness only with you. When you died, it almost destroyed him. I didn't have to see it happen to know it was true. He eventually found a way to continue by transferring that dependence to Jon and later to Hadji. And it got him through . . .but that doesn't mean it's a good thing. Now the boys are leaving and he's faced with it again. This time he has to learn to be happy on his own."
'But he is lonely. You said so yourself.'
The pain in that voice made Barbara flinch, but she held her ground stubbornly. "Yes, he is. But for now, it's not a bad loneliness. It's the kind that will teach him to find his own place and make peace with it. And in time, after he's done that, he'll be ready."
'And until that day?'
"He'll have a friend he can rely on."
'Forming new relationships . . . personal ones . . . are hard for him. You know this. He is blind to the nuances and advances very slowly. If you let him move at his own pace, it might take a very long time . . . or it might not happen at all.'
"It might not," she agreed. Then, a loud knock on the study door caused her to jump.
"Barbara, are you in there?" Estella called.
"Yes, I'm here," she replied, turning away from the rapidly fading form to cross to the door.
'Wait!' Rachel called to her, but for now Barbara ignored her. Sending a strong suggestion of patience toward the presence she could still feel hovering at her shoulder, Barbara opened the door.
"What are you doing in here?" Estella demanded, stepping into the study. "You just vanished!"
Barbara grinned and gestured at the Christmas tree. "Communing with Mother Nature." Seeing Estella's disbelieving look, she laughed and caught her hand, turning her back toward the hallway. "No, I just decided to give all of you some privacy for a while. You didn't need me intruding."
"How many times do we have to tell you that you are never intruding?" Estella caught Barbara's hand in both of hers. "Good grief, your hands are like ice! Why is it so cold in here?"
Barbara laughed easily again, leading Estella out of the room. "Probably a combination of a draft and the fact that I had the door closed. I know just the cure. Didn't you say something about hot mulled cider?"
Much later that evening, Barbara sat alone in one of the big reading chairs in Benton's study staring at the lighted Christmas tree and musing on the events of the evening. Overall, it had been a good Christmas Eve. An hour of general conversation and mulled cider had been followed by one of Mrs. Evans famous Christmas Eve feasts, which she had prepared earlier that day and left for them. Once everyone had eaten their fill and had cleaned up, they all adjourned back to the family room where a Yankee gift exchange had ensued. An old tradition in the area, each member attending had brought a single gift, which they placed under the tree. When the exchange was ready to start, everyone drew numbers and then the person with the lowest number started. It had been Hadji, who selected a gift and opened it. Inside he found a boxed set of collectable ceramic cups. The next to have a turn was Estella, who had the choice of taking the gift that Hadji had or selecting another one from under the tree. She went to the tree and ended up with a foot massager. Kefira went next and she took the foot massager from Estella, who then selected another gift from under the tree. The process continued with everyone laughing, teasing, and the most popular gifts being swapped back and forth until they had all had a turn and the final disposition of the gifts had been decided.
Maia and Vassey had been fascinated by the entire experience and settled in happily to investigate their gifts, while the rest of the adults began talking once more. Throughout the evening, Benton struggled to stay close to Jessie and to include her in all of the activities. For her part, she had been pleasant, if a bit distant, and she seemed to try very hard to avoid subjects that might have been deemed "touchy".
Only once during the entire evening had things gotten tense. Jonny and Benton had been discussing what each had planned for the new year. Jonny reminded his father of his and Jessie's plans for a two-week trip to the Bahamas, but explained that they had to postpone it because of all of the time they had taken off while they were in Bangalore. Without thinking about it, Benton began to encourage Jonny to re-think the idea of not continuing on to school. Jessie had interrupted the conversation, telling Benton sharply that Jonny didn't have to go to school if he didn't want to do so. The pause in the conversation was pregnant, and finally Benton had agreed quietly, apologizing to his son and telling him that it was his decision to make and that he would be happy with whatever he chose to do. After an awkward moment, the topic of conversation changed and the incident was allowed to pass.
It was nearly eleven o'clock when everyone had begun to disperse for the night. Jon and Jessica went out to the car to get their overnight bag and then headed upstairs. In a soft aside, Estella said that Benton had arranged for the two of them to stay in Jon's old room, while Hadji and Kefira were in Hadji's, since Maia and Vassey had taken over the ones that had been used by Jessie and Kefira. She laughed softly and commented that even in this house, bed space was beginning to be at a premium. While Jon and Jessie were getting settled, Race had picked a sleeping Vassey up off of the floor and carried him upstairs to bed while Kefira and Hadji went with Maia to see her safely settled, and Estella had disappeared with Emily. Barbara had risen, intending to get her things and leave, but Benton had stopped her, asking her to wait for a bit longer. Gesturing toward the back of the house, he requested that she wait for him in the study. Mystified, she had agreed and now sat listening to the quiet and feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time. When the flickering candles and the sudden drop in temperature heralded Rachel's arrival, Barbara wasn't particularly surprised.
'You were right,' she said in that strangely quiet voice that seemed to echo softly in Barbara's head.
"About what?"
'About Jessica and Benton. It's breaking his heart to see her so upset.'
"It will take some time, but she's starting to come around."
'Thanks to you.'
Barbara shook her head. "No. She loves him as much as he does her and they would have gotten there eventually. I just tried to smooth the path a little bit." She looked around but could see no sign of her ghostly visitor, but when she looked at the portrait it seemed strangely luminous. "Are you going to join me?"
'No. He could return at any time and I don't want him knowing that I'm still here.'
"I would have thought you could sense his approach."
There was a smile in her voice as she replied, 'At one time, I could have.'
"What do you mean, 'at one time'," she asked with a frown.
'My connection with him is fading. The closer he becomes to you, the more distant I am to him. I am rapidly becoming nothing more than a fond memory.'
Barbara sat up abruptly. "I don't want to be the cause of that!"
Again, she could hear the smile in that distant voice. 'He will never wholly forget . . . Jon's presence in his life will see to that. And what remains will be the good times, not the bad. It's the way it should be. You never answered my question.'
"What question?"
'You say he is not ready for a relationship with you. What will you do while he finds himself?'
"I'm sorry I took so long," Benton said, coming into the room with no warning. Barbara could feel the exasperation of the spirit as she once again withdrew. Benton paused and looked around in consternation. "Why is it so cold in here?"
Barbara laughed at the familiar question, amused to find that she hadn't even noticed the chill. "Estella asked me the same thing earlier. Maybe the room is haunted."
Benton snorted. "More likely, we've got a chink somewhere that didn't quite get fixed after that fiasco last Christmas. I'll call Milt Neese the first of next week and have him come out and take a look at it." Then he gave her a searching look as he settled into the chair next to hers. "Do you believe in ghosts?"
"I believe that there are a lot of strange things in this world that can't be easily explained," she replied carefully. "Whether they are caused by ghosts . . . well, that I really can't say." She smiled at him enigmatically. "I suppose stranger things could happen."
"There was a time when I believed that Rachel's ghost had remained with me after she died," Benton said quietly, staring musingly at the nearby portrait. Then he looked at her again. "I believe in ghosts, you know."
"I know you've studied the phenomenon extensively. It's one of the reasons why I don't just dismiss the entire idea. I figure, with all of the effort you've put into it, if they didn't exist you wouldn't have been wasting your time all these years."
"Oh, don't get me wrong, most of the tales of ghosts that you hear about are pure bunk . . . some naturally occurring phenomenon or deliberate attempts by someone to gain something from gullible individuals. But there are those few cases where no rational explanation exists for the things that occur. Have you ever heard the story that Jonny and Jessie tell about the ghost island off of Nova Scotia?"
"You mean that ghostly love story of Jean and Caroline that they always tell at Halloween?"
"That's the one. When they first told me, I thought it was just a great ghost story . . . one you tell over the campfires at night. But all three of the kids swore it was true." He grimaced slightly. "It took me a while to wheedle out of them the fact that Caroline Mornay was the spitting image of Jessie and that, supposedly, Jonny and Jessie had been possessed by their spirits while they were on the island."
"I can't say I remember hearing any of this."
"No, they edited it a bit initially." Benton grinned fleetingly. "Actually, they had a good reason not to mention it."
Barbara cocked an eyebrow at him quizzically. "Really? And why's that?"
"Because it was the first time the two of them ever kissed. As the full story goes, Jean and Caroline finally laid their grievances aside and forgave each other, sealing it with a kiss . . . while in possession of Jonny and Jessie's bodies. Both of them now admit that they willingly prolonged the experience just a bit longer than was strictly necessary after the spirits fled."
Barbara laughed. "And they were what . . . 14?"
"Jonny was. Jessie had just turned 15. I guess the entire experience must have started them thinking."
"Well, don't feel bad. It was inevitable."
Benton laughed outright at that. "Yes, I know. The point of this, though, is that after they finally owned up to the whole story, I did some quiet digging. Everything I found leads me to believe that the haunting of Mornay Island may have been the real thing. The basic story of Jean Leger and Caroline Mornay appears to be true in every detail, and apparently tales have been told for over a century of the ghostly island appearing out of nowhere for just one day each year. Many of the men who fish those waters talk of hearing the bloodcurdling screams of a woman, and a few have even claimed to have seen her fall into the water out of the mists, exactly the way the kids described it. And yet, four years ago, it all stopped and the phenomenon has never been experienced since."
"Oh, now that's just bizarre," Barbara exclaimed, and in some distant part of her, she thought she heard soft, ghostly laughter.
"Spirits laid to rest," Benton said with a shrug.
"So what about Rachel?" Barbara asked before she could stop herself. "Is she still here?"
He was quiet for a long time and Barbara was seriously regretting the question by the time he finally answered sadly, "No. I don't know . . . maybe she never was. Maybe I just wanted her here so desperately that, for a while, she seemed real."
'Don't tell him, ' Rachel instructed softly just as Barbara was about to reassure him of his dead wife's watchful presence. 'If it helps him to let go, then allow him to believe he imagined me.'
"Well, whether she was ever really here or not, the things she helped you to create are all around you, so in a way, she'll always be a part of your life."
"Now you sound like Admiral Bennett," Benton replied with a chuckle, seeming to throw off his melancholy mood. "He told me much the same thing last Christmas."
"Well, he's right."
"I'm learning that . . . slowly." He contemplated her for a long moment and then leaned forward and kissed her cheek softly. "Thank you."
She blinked. "You're welcome . . . I guess. What did I do to deserve that?"
"You got Jessie here."
"Oh, now -"
"Don't try to deny it. Jonny told me you drove all the way to Boston to talk to her." Under his steady gaze, her eyes fell and she shifted uncomfortably. "You shouldn't have gone to all of that trouble for us."
That caused her to look up again. "I didn't mind," she assured him earnestly. "And I hate seeing any of you at odds like this. If I can help in some way . . ." She trailed off and then shrugged.
Benton shook his head as he caught her hand and squeezed it. "We are such a trial to you," he said softly. Barbara's breath caught in her throat and her heart began to beat more rapidly as the contact between them sent a shock coursing through her. In the back of her mind she could feel Rachel urging her on as she searched his face, trying to figure out what he was thinking. His thumb caressed the back of her hand as he gazed down at that link. "I don't know what we would have done without a friend like you during this last year," he finally added.
Friend. It was all she could do not to let her expression show in either her face or body language. She'd said he wasn't ready and she'd been right. They were still just friends in his mind and to push it now was a risk she didn't dare take. Searching desperately for a way to break the growing sense of intimacy the candlelit room and holiday decorations were fostering, she let out a breathless chuckle and eased her hand out of his grasp. "Some days are easier than others," she assured him lightly. "But as you say, we're friends and being there when we're needed is what friends do." Again, Barbara caught that ghostly sigh of exasperation and a soft, 'Benton, you are an idiot!'
"Then I'm grateful for the luck that gave me such a good friend." Leaning back in his chair again, he asked, "So what's it going to take to convince you to spend the day with us tomorrow? I'd really like for you to be here."
Her heart leapt, a part of her aching to agree, but in the end it was the rational, cautious part that answered, "As much as I'd love to, I really can't. I've got other things planned and I need to stick to them."
"You're sure?"
"I'm afraid so."
He sighed. "Damn. We'll miss you."
She laughed again and rose from the chair, knowing she needed to get out of this house. "No, you won't. You'll revel in every minute of having your family around you and have a wonderful time. And speaking of Christmas Day, which is not very far away, I should go and let you get to bed."
"Not yet. I had hoped to convince you to come out tomorrow but since I can't, there's one other thing before you leave. Just sit down and I'll be right back."
Reluctantly, she sank into the chair once more as Benton disappeared from the room. But almost as soon as he left, she heard a new voice.
"Dr. Mason!"
Barbara twisted in her chair just as Jessie slipped into the study. She was dressed in a forest green, floor-length robe and Barbara got the feeling that she might have been waiting just out of sight for a while.
"Jessie! What are you doing up? I thought you and Jon went to bed."
"We did, but I needed to talk to you for a minute before you leave," she whispered softly. She hesitated for an instant and then rushed on, "That tape. You still have it?"
"Yes. I promised you I would keep it and I have. Do you want it back?"
She hesitated for only a fraction of a second, then shook her head. "No. I want you to destroy it. You were right. I'll never get over this as long as that thing exists. I don't care how you do it, just make sure I never get my hands on it again." And with that, she turned and was gone. Barbara smiled, a warmth filling her. Yes, things would be all right on that front eventually.
'Charity. The true spirit of Christmas. I would have lashed out at her in anger for what she was doing to Benton.'
"I know. What you didn't realize was that she was in even more pain than he was. Anger and betrayal is like an abscess. If you don't treat the cause, it only continues to grow. Lance it, and eventually it will heal."
'You still haven't -'
"There you are," Barbara said to Benton as he re-entered the room. "I'd begun to think you'd gotten lost."
"I'm sorry," he said with a happy grin, not sounding the least bit repentant. "I ran into Jessie in the entryway and stopped to say goodnight."
She smiled back, sensing absolutely no sorrow now. "That's all right. But I really should go. It's almost midnight."
"This first," he said holding out a small, brightly wrapped package as he sat down again.
Barbara accepted it, gazing at it in surprise. "Benton, you didn't have to do this! I thought we agreed that we would limit gifts to the exchange tonight."
"We did, but this wasn't for tonight. It was supposed to be for tomorrow, but since you simply refuse to come to Christmas dinner, we'll have to do it this evening."
"I left yours at the house."
"I thought we agreed that we would limit gifts," he mocked her gently, but his laughing eyes and bright smile belied his reproving tone. "Go on, open it," he instructed her and reached up flip on the reading lamp that sat between the two chairs.
She unwrapped the small box and slid the lid off. Carefully removing the top layer of cotton, she gasped audibly at what she found. Inside the box was a locket . . . an antique Victorian locket, and it was one she had seen before. It was made of 14 K gold and was an oval 2.5 inches long by 1.25 inches wide on a twisted gold chain. The front was decorated with enamel inlay, and a medallion of painstakingly detailed flowers was centered in the top third of the locket. It was encircled by an enameled black frame of ornate scrollwork and stylized leaves, and the remaining surfaces, front and back, were intricately detailed. Several months ago, before he became so ill, the two of them had been part of a group that had gone to New York to a charity auction. At one point during the day, the two of them had been sitting together watching the proceedings and she had spotted the locket in the auction brochure and commented on it.
"Benton!"
"You like it," he said, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself.
"Like it? I love it . . . just as you knew I would!"
"I ran into an old friend at the auction and had him bid on it for me so you wouldn't know I was buying it."
"But Benton!" she sputtered, almost beyond words. "I watched that auction . . . this locket sold for close to $5,000!"
He shrugged negligently. "I have the money. Furthermore, it was for a good cause, so I don't want you thinking about the price. You liked it and I wanted to get you something special that I knew you'd enjoy. So just accept it, okay?" He smiled engagingly at her helpless look. "Please?"
Finally, she sighed. "You shouldn't have done this, Benton Quest. You know that, right?"
"Of course I should, and I'd do it again tomorrow if the mood struck me. We're friends, and friends don't have to hesitate if they want to give each other gifts." He caught her hand again. "There aren't enough words or trinkets or gestures in this world to thank you for everything you've done for us throughout the years. This is just another small attempt to say how much I appreciate your friendship and loyalty. It means more to me than you can ever know."
Barbara bit her lip, fighting to control the urge to reach out and caress his cheek. She could feel Rachel urging her to do it . . . to open that door . . . but the look in his eyes told her that it would be the wrong move. Instead, she squeezed his hand and smiled. "Then all I can say is 'thank you'. It's a lovely gift and I positively adore it." Slipping her hand free, she carefully replaced the cotton, put the lid back on the box, and rose to her feet. "I really should go."
This time he nodded and rose, as well. "I'll get your coat." He led the way out of the room, with Barbara close on his heels. On the threshold, she paused, allowing him to disappear down the hall, and then turned back to stare at the portrait of Rachel Quest one last time.
"You asked me what I will do while he finds himself," she said quietly to the luminous image. "You resided within me for more than a week. Surely you know the answer to that question by now." That strange presence stirred in her once more and she felt a sense of inquiry wash over her, although the woman didn't respond in words.
"I'll do what you've done all these years . . . I'll watch over him and I'll wait."
'For how long?'
"For as long as it takes."
'Why?'
"You know why."
'I want to hear you say it.'
"Because I love him."
The complex wash of emotion that engulfed her then was incredible. Weariness was prominent, but so was love and relief, and in its wake was a wash of such peace and contentment that it made Barbara's breath catch.
'Then finally, after all of these years, I'm done. I can let go of this world, knowing there is someone who understands him and will look after all of them for me. Can I trust you to do that?'
"Yes."
'I was wrong. The spirit of Christmas isn't charity . . . it's love, something you seem to have in endless supply.'
"When it comes to Benton and his family, I think that's true."
In the silence that followed, the mantle clock on the far side of the room began to toll solemnly. For an instant, the portrait seemed to flare with living light and Barbara could have sworn she saw the woman smile. 'Christmas Day . . . the symbol of hope, joy, and new beginnings. It's appropriate. I leave them to you, Barbara Mason. May you all have a good life.' The light intensified until Barbara was forced to close her eyes against its brilliance. When she finally opened them again, the light was gone and the portrait seemed to be nothing but a painting once again. She gazed at it for a moment longer and then bowed her head briefly.
"And may you finally have peace, Rachel . . . for all eternity." Then she turned away and went in search of Benton.
© 2002 Debbie Kluge
DISCLAIMER: The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest and all characters, logos, and likenesses therein, are trademarks of and copyrighted by Hanna-Barbera Productions, Inc., and Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc., a Turner company. No copyright infringement is intended by their use in this story. I, and this story, are in no way affiliated with, approved of or endorsed by Hanna Barbera or Turner Productions. This is created by a fan for other fans out of love and respect for the show, and is strictly a non-profit endeavor.