Part Two:
Jack gently eased his hold of Irina, allowing her to face their daughter. Sydney, still clearly in shock, stood deathly still in the doorway, staring at her, while Irina mirrored her daughter's frozen position. Seeing all of this, Jack approached Sydney. Placing an arm around her shoulder, he soothingly attempted to coax her further into the room. Despite her father's encouragement, Sydney was still a little reluctant to move, so Jack caught Irina's eyes with his and, inclining his head, silently urged her to take the first step.
In spite of her own reservations about her daughter's readiness to accept her back into her life again, Irina decided to trust Jack's judgement over her own insecurities.
Closing the distance between them in few steps, Irina enfolded her daughter in her arms and as she felt Sydney hugging her back, a sob of relief escaped her lips.
Sydney was surprised at how the lurking discomfort she'd felt upon Irina's approach disappeared as soon as she was surrounded by her mother's protective embrace. The feeling of belonging filled her and she realized that she had not felt this safe since she was a child. Since before her mother had left them. The dose of reality that came with the last thought caused Sydney to pull away from her mother, albeit slowly.
Irina watched as her daughter took her time to collect herself. Taking a loose strand of Sydney's hair between her fingers, Irina tucked it behind Sydney's ear and watched as her eyes grew bigger as the action evoked a
long-forgotten memory. Tucking Sydney's hair behind her ear was something Irina had always done when she was small. The girl's long hair always fell on her face, escaping all pony tails and braids. Irina, while pleased that Sydney recalled this, felt a twinge of pain at the fact that it had been forgotten.
The myriad of emotions that were raging inside Sydney were also evident on her face as she struggled to make sense of what she was remembering and witnessing. The woman in front of her, Irina, was her mother, but to Sydney she was also a ruthless, cold KGB agent who'd destroyed her life as well as her father's. And yet, as she now stood before her, she saw the woman that she'd known as Laura Bristow.
Needing to distance herself from Irina, Sydney broke their eye contact and searched for her father's eyes instead. As if reading her thoughts in an instant, Jack reached out to Irina, touching her arm to draw attention to himself.
"I'm going to make some tea for us," he said, directing his words to Irina. Then, with a soft peck on her cheek, he left for the kitchen. After a moment the women followed him silently, and Sydney thought it funny that, even after all these years, Daddy's study was still off limits unless he was there.
Walking to the living room, Irina stopped to pick up a bag that Sydney assumed she'd brought with her. She moved it out of the way and next to the living room doorway.
"Don't want anyone tripping on it," she offered with a forced smile.
Sydney nodded and entered the living room, sitting down in the recliner, leaving Irina to choose between another one or the couch. Deciding to occupy a corner of the couch, Irina sat down as her eyes rested upon the blanket. With obvious affection, she reached for it and hugged it closely, clinging to it almost like it was a lifeline.
Sydney watched as her mother brought the blanket to her face, closing her eyes, smelled it, as if she could be taken back to the past with the simple action.
Then, while Sydney's gaze was still on Irina, the older woman opened her eyes and looked at her from under her eyebrows. A wicked grin spread across Irina's lips, and the blanket was turned and twisted around in her hands until she finally stopped with a triumphant smile, showing off the stain she'd found.
Under Irina's mischievous eyes, Sydney blushed crimson as the old guilt she'd experienced as a child resurfaced, making her look a great deal the like she did when she had made the mess in the first place. Irina, witnessing the apologetic expression on Sydney's face, was unable to stop herself from laughing a little. But the sound was not entirely a happy one and it soon died down, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake. Irina, still holding on to the blanket, was trying to open a conversation with Sydney, but everything she could think of sounded inadequate in her head. Sydney for her part, seemed to be just as, if not even more, unsure of what to say and so the silence stretched on.
Finally Jack came back carrying a tray with three mugs, conveniently giving the women something else to focus on. Trying to appear nonchalant, he said he'd heard laughter and asked if he could get in on the joke as well.
"It was just."
"I was just."
Both Sydney and Irina started to explain at the same time, then abruptly fell silent, waiting for the other to continue. Eventually, after several quick looks to both Irina and her father, Sydney told him what had happened.
Jack was encouraged by what he heard, thinking that sharing a memory of the good times was a good step forward. But the uneasiness between the two women was hard to miss, and he knew he'd have to help them along. Sitting down next to Irina, he laced their fingers together in a silent message to both his wife and daughter, trusting them to understand what he was trying to convey. Which to Sydney was, simply put, that he trusted Irina and was hoping she'd give her mother another chance. To Irina it was simply an offer of his support. He knew Irina was worried about upsetting Sydney, of making mistakes. He decided it would be the best to start from mundane things and see where it took them.
"Did you have any trouble getting into the country?" Jack asked Irina, oblivious to just how mundane that would sound to an average person.
Irina, however, read him perfectly and was about to answer in a sarcastic way when she caught the stony look on Sydney's face. Clearly the reminder of Irina's status as an international terrorist had struck her daughter again. Grimacing, Irina wished, and not for the first time either, that she could be the mother that her daughter deserved. That they both deserved.
"No" was the only reply she offered.
Observant as always, Sydney realized that her reaction to her father's question had not gone unnoticed. In an effort to defuse the situation, she tried to take a more active role in the so-called conversation.
"How long since you were last in the States?"
"It's been a few months. Because of your father's imprisonment." Irina paused and glanced at Jack before continuing, "I didn't really have reason to keep coming back unless it was to find a clue about your whereabouts."
Sydney took a moment for the words, and the meaning behind them, to sink in.
Seeing this as a good opportunity, Jack continued on Irina's behalf. "I think you should know.your mother never gave up on you. She refused to believe for a minute that you were dead."
At this, Irina looked at Jack, touched by his support for her, so she missed the look of surprise on Sydney's face.
The next hour or so went by quickly as the newly reunited family slowly started to rebuild the trust that had been broken so many years before. Most of the talking was done by Jack and Irina, as they filled Sydney in on their search for her.
When Sydney yawned for the fourth time in as many minutes, though, Irina suggested her daughter get some rest. At first Sydney resisted, but gave in because of her father's insistence and reasoning. It was true that the day had been eventful and emotionally exhausting. Getting up from the recliner, she nodded her acquiescence. As well as being tired, she also needed time to digest everything she'd heard that evening.
"We'll talk more tomorrow," Irina promised her as she and Jack got up as well.
Taking a step towards her father, Sydney was about to hug him goodnight for the second time, when it dawned on her that she couldn't do that and not hug her mother good night as well. With this realization she stopped abruptly and avoided meeting the eyes of her parents. Awkwardly, she hurriedly bid them both goodnight before moving away again.
As she reached the top of the stairs, she could hear the low voices of her parents and, retracing her steps a little, returned to the bottom of the stairs where she could hear them better. Pushing all guilt on eavesdropping on her parents' private conversation aside, she carefully peeked from behind the corner. Her parents had remained standing, with Jack touching Irina's arm in a comforting manner.
"She doesn't trust me, Jack," Irina said, unknowingly causing Sydney to wince.
"Yes, she does." Jack tried to reassure her, but Irina shook her head.
"No, she doesn't. And you know it. She doesn't trust me," Irina repeated. "I feel like she's slipping through my fingers. I can't reach her."
Even from that distance, Sydney was able to see the tears running down her mother's cheek. She watched as her father pulled her mother to him, enfolding her in his embrace and offering what comfort he could.
Slowly and without a sound, Sydney made her way back upstairs and to her room. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it and sighed. It wasn't that she didn't want to trust her mother. Quite on the contrary, she was desperate to do so. But there was so much history between them. So much pain. And then there was the fact that she had left them. Not just once, but twice. Not wanting to focus on the negatives alone, Sydney reminded herself that there were still lots of things she didn't know about the two- year gap in her life. And in that area especially, her father seemed to trust her mother implicitly. And she trusted her father.
She walked to her bed and slipped between the sheets. Staring at the ceiling, she thought back to her mother's words: "We'll talk more tomorrow." Sighing again, Sydney closed her eyes, she hoped to find the answers she sought.
Downstairs, Jack pulled back from Irina and, gently placing a finger under her chin, he encouraged her to look at him. "She'll trust you again, Irina. Just give her time. She needs it." A hint of a smile graced his lips as he added, "If I remember correctly, the last time she saw you, you jumped off a building."
This drew a soft chuckle from Irina. But, even through her mirth, Jack was still able to see the doubt in her eyes.
~*~
A knock on the door caused Sydney to stir from her slumber. Groaning in protest, Sydney burrowed her face in her pillow when she heard her father's voice from the other side of the door telling her it was just past eight.
"Breakfast is waiting," he reminded her.
"Okay! I'm just gonna take a quick shower and I'll be right there," she said.
A few minutes later Sydney opened the door and padded downstairs. While in the shower, she'd thought about the events of the night before and had decided to at least try and talk with her mother. If her father trusted her mother as much as he seemed to, maybe she could learn to do so as well.
When she was halfway down the stairs, something occurred to her. There were no voices... none of the low whisperings she'd heard the night before. Shaking her head to rid herself of that morbid thought, Sydney berated herself for immediately assuming the worst. She really should give her mother a chance... especially after what she had overheard the night before.
Passing the living room, she glanced in that direction. Finding no one there, she continued her to walk through the house. Again, something told her that everything was not as it should have been, but she dismissed the thought.
Entering the kitchen she saw that the table was set only for two, and instantly realized what had bothered her about the living room. The bag her mother had brought with her the night before, the one that had laid in the living room doorway was missing.
Trying to push away the dread that was threatening to overtake her, she stared at her father's rigid back. In a slightly shaky voice she asked, "Where's mom?"
Without turning to face her, Jack answered, "She's gone."
TBC.
Jack gently eased his hold of Irina, allowing her to face their daughter. Sydney, still clearly in shock, stood deathly still in the doorway, staring at her, while Irina mirrored her daughter's frozen position. Seeing all of this, Jack approached Sydney. Placing an arm around her shoulder, he soothingly attempted to coax her further into the room. Despite her father's encouragement, Sydney was still a little reluctant to move, so Jack caught Irina's eyes with his and, inclining his head, silently urged her to take the first step.
In spite of her own reservations about her daughter's readiness to accept her back into her life again, Irina decided to trust Jack's judgement over her own insecurities.
Closing the distance between them in few steps, Irina enfolded her daughter in her arms and as she felt Sydney hugging her back, a sob of relief escaped her lips.
Sydney was surprised at how the lurking discomfort she'd felt upon Irina's approach disappeared as soon as she was surrounded by her mother's protective embrace. The feeling of belonging filled her and she realized that she had not felt this safe since she was a child. Since before her mother had left them. The dose of reality that came with the last thought caused Sydney to pull away from her mother, albeit slowly.
Irina watched as her daughter took her time to collect herself. Taking a loose strand of Sydney's hair between her fingers, Irina tucked it behind Sydney's ear and watched as her eyes grew bigger as the action evoked a
long-forgotten memory. Tucking Sydney's hair behind her ear was something Irina had always done when she was small. The girl's long hair always fell on her face, escaping all pony tails and braids. Irina, while pleased that Sydney recalled this, felt a twinge of pain at the fact that it had been forgotten.
The myriad of emotions that were raging inside Sydney were also evident on her face as she struggled to make sense of what she was remembering and witnessing. The woman in front of her, Irina, was her mother, but to Sydney she was also a ruthless, cold KGB agent who'd destroyed her life as well as her father's. And yet, as she now stood before her, she saw the woman that she'd known as Laura Bristow.
Needing to distance herself from Irina, Sydney broke their eye contact and searched for her father's eyes instead. As if reading her thoughts in an instant, Jack reached out to Irina, touching her arm to draw attention to himself.
"I'm going to make some tea for us," he said, directing his words to Irina. Then, with a soft peck on her cheek, he left for the kitchen. After a moment the women followed him silently, and Sydney thought it funny that, even after all these years, Daddy's study was still off limits unless he was there.
Walking to the living room, Irina stopped to pick up a bag that Sydney assumed she'd brought with her. She moved it out of the way and next to the living room doorway.
"Don't want anyone tripping on it," she offered with a forced smile.
Sydney nodded and entered the living room, sitting down in the recliner, leaving Irina to choose between another one or the couch. Deciding to occupy a corner of the couch, Irina sat down as her eyes rested upon the blanket. With obvious affection, she reached for it and hugged it closely, clinging to it almost like it was a lifeline.
Sydney watched as her mother brought the blanket to her face, closing her eyes, smelled it, as if she could be taken back to the past with the simple action.
Then, while Sydney's gaze was still on Irina, the older woman opened her eyes and looked at her from under her eyebrows. A wicked grin spread across Irina's lips, and the blanket was turned and twisted around in her hands until she finally stopped with a triumphant smile, showing off the stain she'd found.
Under Irina's mischievous eyes, Sydney blushed crimson as the old guilt she'd experienced as a child resurfaced, making her look a great deal the like she did when she had made the mess in the first place. Irina, witnessing the apologetic expression on Sydney's face, was unable to stop herself from laughing a little. But the sound was not entirely a happy one and it soon died down, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake. Irina, still holding on to the blanket, was trying to open a conversation with Sydney, but everything she could think of sounded inadequate in her head. Sydney for her part, seemed to be just as, if not even more, unsure of what to say and so the silence stretched on.
Finally Jack came back carrying a tray with three mugs, conveniently giving the women something else to focus on. Trying to appear nonchalant, he said he'd heard laughter and asked if he could get in on the joke as well.
"It was just."
"I was just."
Both Sydney and Irina started to explain at the same time, then abruptly fell silent, waiting for the other to continue. Eventually, after several quick looks to both Irina and her father, Sydney told him what had happened.
Jack was encouraged by what he heard, thinking that sharing a memory of the good times was a good step forward. But the uneasiness between the two women was hard to miss, and he knew he'd have to help them along. Sitting down next to Irina, he laced their fingers together in a silent message to both his wife and daughter, trusting them to understand what he was trying to convey. Which to Sydney was, simply put, that he trusted Irina and was hoping she'd give her mother another chance. To Irina it was simply an offer of his support. He knew Irina was worried about upsetting Sydney, of making mistakes. He decided it would be the best to start from mundane things and see where it took them.
"Did you have any trouble getting into the country?" Jack asked Irina, oblivious to just how mundane that would sound to an average person.
Irina, however, read him perfectly and was about to answer in a sarcastic way when she caught the stony look on Sydney's face. Clearly the reminder of Irina's status as an international terrorist had struck her daughter again. Grimacing, Irina wished, and not for the first time either, that she could be the mother that her daughter deserved. That they both deserved.
"No" was the only reply she offered.
Observant as always, Sydney realized that her reaction to her father's question had not gone unnoticed. In an effort to defuse the situation, she tried to take a more active role in the so-called conversation.
"How long since you were last in the States?"
"It's been a few months. Because of your father's imprisonment." Irina paused and glanced at Jack before continuing, "I didn't really have reason to keep coming back unless it was to find a clue about your whereabouts."
Sydney took a moment for the words, and the meaning behind them, to sink in.
Seeing this as a good opportunity, Jack continued on Irina's behalf. "I think you should know.your mother never gave up on you. She refused to believe for a minute that you were dead."
At this, Irina looked at Jack, touched by his support for her, so she missed the look of surprise on Sydney's face.
The next hour or so went by quickly as the newly reunited family slowly started to rebuild the trust that had been broken so many years before. Most of the talking was done by Jack and Irina, as they filled Sydney in on their search for her.
When Sydney yawned for the fourth time in as many minutes, though, Irina suggested her daughter get some rest. At first Sydney resisted, but gave in because of her father's insistence and reasoning. It was true that the day had been eventful and emotionally exhausting. Getting up from the recliner, she nodded her acquiescence. As well as being tired, she also needed time to digest everything she'd heard that evening.
"We'll talk more tomorrow," Irina promised her as she and Jack got up as well.
Taking a step towards her father, Sydney was about to hug him goodnight for the second time, when it dawned on her that she couldn't do that and not hug her mother good night as well. With this realization she stopped abruptly and avoided meeting the eyes of her parents. Awkwardly, she hurriedly bid them both goodnight before moving away again.
As she reached the top of the stairs, she could hear the low voices of her parents and, retracing her steps a little, returned to the bottom of the stairs where she could hear them better. Pushing all guilt on eavesdropping on her parents' private conversation aside, she carefully peeked from behind the corner. Her parents had remained standing, with Jack touching Irina's arm in a comforting manner.
"She doesn't trust me, Jack," Irina said, unknowingly causing Sydney to wince.
"Yes, she does." Jack tried to reassure her, but Irina shook her head.
"No, she doesn't. And you know it. She doesn't trust me," Irina repeated. "I feel like she's slipping through my fingers. I can't reach her."
Even from that distance, Sydney was able to see the tears running down her mother's cheek. She watched as her father pulled her mother to him, enfolding her in his embrace and offering what comfort he could.
Slowly and without a sound, Sydney made her way back upstairs and to her room. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it and sighed. It wasn't that she didn't want to trust her mother. Quite on the contrary, she was desperate to do so. But there was so much history between them. So much pain. And then there was the fact that she had left them. Not just once, but twice. Not wanting to focus on the negatives alone, Sydney reminded herself that there were still lots of things she didn't know about the two- year gap in her life. And in that area especially, her father seemed to trust her mother implicitly. And she trusted her father.
She walked to her bed and slipped between the sheets. Staring at the ceiling, she thought back to her mother's words: "We'll talk more tomorrow." Sighing again, Sydney closed her eyes, she hoped to find the answers she sought.
Downstairs, Jack pulled back from Irina and, gently placing a finger under her chin, he encouraged her to look at him. "She'll trust you again, Irina. Just give her time. She needs it." A hint of a smile graced his lips as he added, "If I remember correctly, the last time she saw you, you jumped off a building."
This drew a soft chuckle from Irina. But, even through her mirth, Jack was still able to see the doubt in her eyes.
~*~
A knock on the door caused Sydney to stir from her slumber. Groaning in protest, Sydney burrowed her face in her pillow when she heard her father's voice from the other side of the door telling her it was just past eight.
"Breakfast is waiting," he reminded her.
"Okay! I'm just gonna take a quick shower and I'll be right there," she said.
A few minutes later Sydney opened the door and padded downstairs. While in the shower, she'd thought about the events of the night before and had decided to at least try and talk with her mother. If her father trusted her mother as much as he seemed to, maybe she could learn to do so as well.
When she was halfway down the stairs, something occurred to her. There were no voices... none of the low whisperings she'd heard the night before. Shaking her head to rid herself of that morbid thought, Sydney berated herself for immediately assuming the worst. She really should give her mother a chance... especially after what she had overheard the night before.
Passing the living room, she glanced in that direction. Finding no one there, she continued her to walk through the house. Again, something told her that everything was not as it should have been, but she dismissed the thought.
Entering the kitchen she saw that the table was set only for two, and instantly realized what had bothered her about the living room. The bag her mother had brought with her the night before, the one that had laid in the living room doorway was missing.
Trying to push away the dread that was threatening to overtake her, she stared at her father's rigid back. In a slightly shaky voice she asked, "Where's mom?"
Without turning to face her, Jack answered, "She's gone."
TBC.