"So, Dad, what's for dinner?" asked as her father answered the door.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Jack looked defensive.  "I ordered the Chef's Surprise Special - you never know what you're going to get." Jack guided her to the table, which she noted, was already set, as the delivery man headed for the kitchen.  "I've never had a bad dinner yet and it saves trying to figure out what I want."

Sydney watched as the cartons were placed carefully on the counter. The young man rummaged through the kitchen with an ease that bespoke familiarity.  Her father apparently ordered his meals from the establishment fairly regularly.  When the delivery man didn't immediately leave, she realized that serving the meal was a part of the service. Within moments, he entered the dining room with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.  "Compliments of Chef Pierre, Mr. Bristow."  He looked over at Sydney with barely disguised curiosity. 

Jack furrowed his eyebrow in surprise, then apparently enlightened, started to laugh.  "Thank you, Joe.  Please tell him my *daughter* and I appreciate his gesture."  Joe nodded and seemed to share the joke with her father.

"The Special tonight is Roasted lamb chops a la Chef Pierre.  It is accompanied by garlic mashed potatoes and honey asparagus.  Your salads will be out shortly," Joe intoned formally, then returned to the kitchen.

"What was that all about, Dad?"

"Pierre thought I was entertaining a lady."

Sydney frowned. "A lady?" Then, understanding dawning, "Oh, a lady!"

.......................................

Sydney sat back on the couch while Jack brought over the bottle of champagne.  She raised her eyebrows and her father shrugged.  "Doesn't everyone have champagne at their wedding reception?" he said nodding at the video footage currently displaying on the tv.

She smiled at his joke, glad to see some of his earlier tension ease.  She looked at the monitor and saw her parents dancing together, seemingly oblivious to everything around them. Jane Bristow stood to one side, watching them.  It struck Sydney that her aunt was not happy about her brothers' marriage.  Did she sense something that others missed?  If she had watched the video without knowing the participants, Sydney would have said the bride and groom were meant for each other.  And yet, there was Aunt Jane, seeming to know something was awry.

"No, Sydney, Jane didn't know any more than anyone else."  Her father accurately read her thoughts.  "Her unhappiness came because your mother had succeeded where she never could.  My father was not a very pleasant man, but he treated your mother like she was a royal princess."  He stopped.  "I suppose you feel the same way about me," Jack said without expression.

"No, I've never thought of you as a royal princess." She smiled up at him.  "A royal pain in the ass, maybe."

"Sydney, I'm out of practice and this doesn't come easily to me, but I do love you.  I don't want you to ever have to doubt that."

She looked into her father's eyes and knew that her response had the power to hurt or heal. She thought of the empty years, growing up almost without him.  And then she remembered the important moments of her life.  Learning to ride her bike, her first dance, her first date, high school graduation, college graduation. He had been there for those moments. She thought of the nights he would come home late and tucked her in. He thought she was asleep, but she always waited up for him, waited for him to straighten her covers, waited for the light kiss on the cheek, waited for him to whisper that he loved her. 

"Dad, do you remember what you used to call me, when I was little?"

"Yes.  I also remember you telling me you didn't want me to call you that ever again.  You were thirteen, I believe."

Sydney laughed. "Yeah, it was embarrassing in front of my friends. But I still wanted you to kiss me good night and say 'I love you, Buttercup'. Why did you stop?"

"You locked your door."

"I did?" Sydney looked puzzled.  "I don't remember doing that. One of my sitters had a smarmy boyfriend and I used to lock my door when you were gone.  She didn't last very long, anyway." She reached over and held Jack's hand.  "When I was growing up, even when I was angry with you, Dad, I knew you loved me. I guess I forgot somewhere along the way."  She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned back to the screen.  Jack had paused it while they talked and now he let it resume. She watched as the images moved from the reception to their honeymoon in Europe. 

The first shot was of her mother leaning out against the brick wall of a very old bridge, hair gently blowing in the light summer breeze.  Above and to her right was an ancient castle, glowing in the afternoon light.

"Heidelberg," Jack explained briefly.

"Jack, will you put that thing away.  Come over here and look.  It's beautiful."  The camera panned the bridge area, revealing a street lined with buildings that had stood the test of time.  He zoomed in on one of the hotels.

"It's a beautiful hotel, Jack." At some point her mother had moved from her riverside perch and stood next to her father.  "I'm feeling a little ... tired.  Perhaps we should go and rest before dinner?"

"Excuse me, please."  The camera wobbled as a small man bumped into her father. "So sorry.  Entschuldigen Sie, bitte."  The man almost lost his balance and fell somewhat heavily against her mother.  She must have grabbed on to Jack to keep from falling, since the camera juggled awkwardly again. Jack steadied the camera and followed the man as he continued on his way.

Jack hit the pause button, stunned.  "Cuvee. My god.  Even on our honeymoon."  Sydney wanted to reassure her father, but nothing came to her. She stared at the still image and felt a sharp welling of anger and hate.  Not towards her mother, but rather the people who pulled the strings and placed her in such an untenable position. 

"I don't think I can watch any more tonight, Sydney."  He looked at the clock on the mantel.  "It's late.  Why don't you stay here tonight?"

"Thanks, Dad.  My stuff's in the car."

.........................................................

The ring of the phone startled Jack out of his uneasy slumber.  "Yes, hello?" he mumbled.

"Good morning, sunshine."

"Laura?" he said still half asleep. Then suddenly, he wasn't.  "Irina."  He looked at the clock.  Three a.m. 

"I'm sorry, dear, did I wake you?  I must have miscalculated on the time difference."

"Like hell you did."  Jack had no intention of being pleasant.  "What do you want?"

"Sydney told me you were still living in our old house."

"Irina!" Jack let his impatience have full rein.

"I remember when I left we had a gopher problem.  You wouldn't put poison out because you were worried that Sydney might accidentally get in to it.  I always wondered how you got rid of them.  Nasty animals.  I hated them being so close to our home."

Jack was silent as he tried to remember a problem with gophers.  The time right before her supposed death was a bit of a blur.  His parents' death had left him emotionally drained.  That, coupled with Laura's death and the discovery of her betrayal, he was in a sad state.  But he would remember gophers.

"You're calling me at 3 in the morning to ask me about gophers?"

"No, actually I called because I miss you.  I've missed our daily talks."

Jack rubbed his eyes and an unbidden image of Cuvee invaded his memory.

"How could you, Irina." The words were out before he could stop them.

"How could I what?"

"Cuvee.  On our honeymoon, for god's sake." Too much alcohol, too little sleep and an anger that had multiplied during his restless slumber loosened the normally tight rein he held on his emotions.

She was silent, then "My air time is almost up.  Not enough time to explain. Someday, Jack." The phone clicked and she was gone.

He sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing his neck.  Why had she called?  Gophers.  He lay back against the pillows.  He sighed.  The answer would have to wait until morning.