"Hungry?" Jack moved from the couch, tossing the remote to Sydney
"What?" The abrupt transition startled her. Quickly, she paused the remote.
"I'm hungry. I know a great gourmet restaurant that delivers. The catalog is in the kitchen." He focused on the television screen. "Why don't you go ahead and watch while I order."
"Dad?" Jack's eyes flicked to her and then back to the screen.
"I can't watch it, Sydney. It ... hurts too much," he admitted somewhat reluctantly. She nodded and he moved to the kitchen. As an afterthought, she shouted to him "No squid or octopus, or, or fried chicken lips, Dad," and smiled as she heard him laugh in response.
Pushing the remote, Sydney immediately noticed a difference in the quality of the video. Obviously her parents had hired a professional to record the event for posterity. The video focused in first on her mother and the bridesmaids as they prepared for the big moment. Laura was looking radiant as she finished her makeup. There were two bridesmaids and an older woman all chattering about the preparations. One of the bridesmaids looked familiar and Sydney realized with a start that it was her Aunt Jane. She didn't know much about her aunt. When she was growing up, there had been occasional visits lasting only a few days.
Aunt Jane did not care for children, something she had made pretty obvious during her visits. The last time her aunt paid them a visit was right before her High School graduation. Since she was a top investigative reporter for CNN, Sydney knew she was alive and well, but that was pretty much it. Her father rarely spoke about her. The other bridesmaid was a mystery to her. She'd have to ask her Dad, especially since her mother had flown the coop.
The older woman turned toward the camera and addressed her mother. Sydney gasped as she realized this was her grandmother. Her father's mother. She paused the remote and stared at the woman she only vaguely remembered. Her grandparents' death only two months before her mothers had been devastating for her father. It was no wonder he was such an emotional wreck at the time.
She started the video and listened as her grandmother complimented her mother.
"You look lovely, dear. It's time to put on the dress. Jane, honey, you get the veil. Sarah, why don't you help me with the dress?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Bristow, for all your help. I...I wish my own mother could have been here. But you have been so wonderful." Laura gave her future mother-in-law a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Think nothing of it, my dear. You are a part of our family now. I would be happier if you called me 'Mom', though." She patted Laura on the cheek. "I know you'll take good care of my son. You love him. I can see that." Laura's eyes glistened and Mrs. Bristow quickly reached for a tissue. "We can't have you spoiling your make-up, now can we?" She turned as Sarah undid the buttons of the dress.
The camera switched to the grooms waiting area. Sydney laughed softly as she watched her father pace nervously around the room. She didn't recognize the two men who stood with her father, but the older gentleman had to be her grandfather. He looked stern and uncompromising.
"Jonathan, will you stop your pacing. Your marriage is simply a formality anyway." He walked to the door. "I'll be outside when you need me."
Jack looked at his father stonefaced and Sydney realized that her father had long practice in hiding his feelings. She didn't remember her grandfather very much. He had always seemed distant, not the grandfatherly type at all and the video bore out her memories.
The video switched once again and panned the assembled guests. A face stuck out at her and she paused the disc and zoomed in. Khasinau! He had been at her parents wedding. Pretty bold on his part. He didn't look too happy, either. Sydney wondered if her father knew about Khasinau.
"Dad? I need to ask you something." If he didn't know, it would probably cause him even more pain, but she couldn't *not* ask.
He popped his head in through the door. "No, I didn't order chicken lips or squid ink soup." Sydney frowned a moment at this. "There's such a thing as squid ink soup?" Jack shook his head. "I was joking, honey. I know I'm out of practice, but I didn't think I was that bad!"
"Oh." Sydney screwed up her courage and pointed to the screen. "Did you know Khasinau was at your wedding?" Jack froze.
"Sydney...." She could hear the pain, but there were too many questions and now might be her only chance to hear the answers. She forged ahead.
"I'm surprised the CIA didn't confiscate the tapes."
He was silent, then, just when she thought he wouldn't respond, he gave her an answer. "The tapes were originally on 8 mm film. Your mother knew someone at the college who could convert the tapes to video, so we could watch them in the VCR. She gave them to him about a week before the 'accident'. I was already in CIA custody when he finished, so the CIA never knew about the tapes. My sister was taking care of my financial interests and she picked them up for me."
"Dad, how come Aunt Jane didn't take care of me while you were being held? Six months was an awfully long time and I really needed family." Her voice ached with the remembered loneliness. The nanny had been kind, but she was no substitute for family. Her mother was dead, or so she thought, her father was 'away on business', or so she thought. It had been a lot for a little girl to handle by herself.
Jack raked his hand through his hair. "Jane can't handle being around children," he explained carefully.
"Dad, what aren't you telling me?"
Jack sighed. "Your aunt can't have children. She got pregnant in high school and ended up getting a back street abortion. There were ... complications. I'm not sure which was worse for her. Finding out she would never have a child of her own or having our father tell her it was no less than she deserved."
"Dad, please stay? I know it hurts, but I really need to watch this with you."
Jack resumed his place on the couch and took another swallow of whiskey. At Sydney's look, he shrugged, but said nothing. Sydney hit the play button and watched the processional. First her grandmother was escorted to the front. Then the lighting of the candles. Sydney had to smile. One candle refused to stay lit.
"An omen," Jack said gloomily and took another swig.
"Shush, Dad. Something like that happens at all weddings."
Finally, the groom and his party moved to their place in front. Her father really looked handsome. He was wearing his hair slightly longer and the curls were more obvious. She wanted to laugh at his 70's tux, but didn't want to take a chance on him leaving her to watch the wedding alone again.
Her mother obviously went with a completely traditional wedding, flower girl, ring bearer and all. Finally, the music swelled to the traditional bridal entry and her mother entered the church.
"Dad, why is your father escorting Mom down the aisle?"
"Your mother told us she had no family." Then, wryly, "she certainly charmed the socks off my father. I think it's the only thing I ever did that he actually approved."
Her grandfather released her mother and moved to a seat next to his wife. Laura was simply stunning. There were no other words for her. Nothing in Laura's manner indicated that she was not head over heals in love with the man who stood before her. The dress was lovely; an off-white silk that looked like it had been designed for another era.
"Your grandmother's wedding dress," Jack said, as if she had spoken aloud. "Jane was not happy about that. My father is the one who arranged it. I'm not sure my mother thought it proper, either, but your mother was thrilled and I was so besotted, I would have given her the moon if she'd asked." The last was said with strong self-derision.
"Dad, I can't believe the woman I'm seeing is not in love with you. Look at her. She's looking at you as though you are the only man in the room."
"No, she's thinking how great this will go over with the KGB. She's successfully duped a CIA agent."
"No way. I know that look. See how she's reaching for you." They watched as vows were exchanged and Jack kissed his bride. They turned to the guests and Sydney noticed a slight change in her mothers' expression. Shock? Laura recovered quickly, but some of the glow dimmed. Then she looked up at Jack and whispered something in his ear.
"What did she say, Dad?" Sydney's curiosity getting the better of her.
"It was a long time ago, Sydney, you can't expect me to remember such a tiny detail."
Her father's voice was flat, they way it always was when he was lying to her. "Dad."
He pursed his lips and she thought he was going to be stubborn and not tell her. "Please?"
He shook his head at her, giving a short laugh. "Well, we know where you got that ability. You are your mother's daughter."
"Funny, everyone says I'm exactly like you. That I may look like Mom, but I'm my father's daughter. Now, please tell me."
"Always remember I love you."
"I know you love me, Dad. Why don't you want to tell me what she said?"
"That was what she said," Jack responded with exasperation. "It was her favorite phrase. I'd find little notes in my suit jackets when I went on trips. She'd tape it to the sports section of the newspaper. Sometimes she'd tape it to the bookmarker of whatever novel I was reading at the time. On our first Christmas, she wrapped up several boxes, one within the other - like those nested Russian Matreshka dolls - the final box had a small gift with the same note. She even left one of those damned notes on the steering wheel of my car the night she 'died'." Pain mixed with bitterness and anger as Jack shared a part of his past that had been locked inside for twenty-one years. Sydney was glad that he finally felt comfortable enough to tell her long held secrets, but sad that what he shared caused him such pain.
The doorbell rang. "Dinner's here," her father said, putting an effective end to their conversation. She stopped the player, noting that it had moved on to the reception while they talked.
