"So a weird guy came to the door?" Kimi raised an eyebrow at her daughter as they ate. She'd managed to get home at six--Chloe, her new intern, had had some trouble with the copier, and she and Kimi had to fight it to finish up what they'd been doing. It was resistentialism at its best.

Maleta nodded, taking a bite of her chicken sandwich. It was leftovers, as usual, but luckily lemon chicken translated spectacularly into sandwiches. "Yeah, that's what happened. He said he'd be back at seven." She swallowed.

"Don't drop your aitches," Kimi said immediately. Maleta had the habit of doing so when she was eating, and the habit grated on her mother's ears terribly.

"Sorry, Mum."

"So it was a 'weird guy'?" Kimi frowned. "What did he look like? I guess you didn't recognize him."

Shaking her head, Maleta answered, "No, I didn't recognize him. He had a cane, and sunglasses. I think he was blind."

She closed her eyes, trying to remember what else was interesting about him. "His hair was kind of greyish--but not. It was in between grey and some other colour. I don't know what other one, though. It was...it wasn't really any colour. He was all kind of grey, really."

"Well, I can't think of anyone I know who's blind," Kimi said. "Well, there's Flavia, of course, but she's not a man. Was he old, then? Losing hair?"

"No, he had plenty of hair," said Maleta. "And I think he was quite young, really. He looked like he'd been sick for a long time, though. You know how you just kind of go--ashen after a while, like you're turning into dust? He looked like that."

Shrugging, Kimi picked up their empty plates. "Well, I suppose we'll find out who he is when he comes back--in ten minutes," she added in surprise, looking at her watch. "Wow, I didn't realize it was so late. It's your night to do the dishes, Mally. I'll go tidy up the living room a bit."

Maleta took the dinner dishes and washed them. She was thankful there weren't very many. Cleaning them took little time, and she wiped off the table and counters while she was at it.

At seven o'clock on the dot, someone knocked on the door. Maleta raced out of the kitchen to follow her mother. Kimi smoothed down her hair repeatedly as she walked towards the door, meanwhile chiding herself for letting that nervous habit get to her.

The door slowly opened as Maleta watched, its dark wood shining in the hallway's ceiling lights. Mum seemed to be moving slowly for some reason. Maybe she didn't really want to know who stood outside her house. A piece of wood wasn't much to seperate her, but maybe it was easier not to look. Maybe a weird man in the abstract was easier to deal with than a weird man standing in front of her. Maleta would come up with theory after theory later, when she had time to think about it, but she'd never know for sure, and perhaps that was best.

The next moment became slower than anything in her memory; years later Maleta would feel as though it lasted ages. Her children never understood this fact when she told them, but the truth was, everything in the world seemed to stop when her mother finally looked at the person in front of her.

He said nothing, and she said nothing, and Maleta said nothing. Perhaps they were all simply observing each others' reactions. The man looked grey, as he did before; he dreamed, deep within himself, of an open welcome. Gripping his cane uncomfortably, he waited, listening carefully.

Maleta looked insanely curious; she wanted desperately to know who stood in front of her. He seemed like perhaps he could be someone important. She twisted at her long braid, eyes flitting back and forth from her mother to the man and back again.

Kimi was frozen; what could she say? This man appeared, as an apparition, a spectre from her past. He stood humbly in front of her, and she could do nothing but feel her stomach tie up into icy knots. Her throat closed, her mouth opened; her eyes shut tightly and her head began to pound. The air was suddenly too cold and her skin was covered with some strange sheen of sweat. She couldn't feel anything but her heart, pumping blood through her veins so violently that she could not move. Her mind raced until she dropped away into some place that was safer for her, black and comforting.

Maleta gasped. "Mum? Mum, what's wrong?" She watched, horrified, as her mother, her beautiful, lovely mother, seemed to sink into herself. Her shoulders slumped as she collapsed. Immediately, Maleta fell to her knees, hovering over her mother worriedly.

"What's happened?" the stranger asked, frowning in confusion. "Is she all right?"

Maleta felt on the verge of tears. What had happened to her mother? Why had she fainted like this? Maleta had never seen Mum faint before. She herself had fainted several summers ago, from heatstroke, but Mum was strong. She didn't faint. Fainting was for her silly little daughter. Mum couldn't just go out cold like that--what was Maleta supposed to do with the grey man now?

"She's fainted," Maleta managed to choke out, holding tightly to her mother's hand.

Perhaps the grey man understood Maleta's fear and pain, for he didn't chide Maleta or make light of the situation. In any case, he very politely asked, "May I come in?" At her nod, he stepped in, his cane tapping on the parquet floor, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"What do I do?" Maleta murmured tearfully, mostly to herself. She didn't like the idea of letting inside the man who did this to her mother, but what choice was there? It would be rude to shut the door in his face.

"If she's fainted," he answered gently, "she should wake up pretty soon. We'll have to leave her where she is for the moment, unless you can carry your mother."

She nodded, still holding her mother's hand, as he came to sit across from her, on the other side of Kimi's body.

"So, uhh..." Maleta wasn't sure how to ask the question without being terribly rude. She figure she might as well just ask it, since she didn't even know him. "So, err--who are you, anyway?"

He didn't answer for quite a while. His face grew longer and sadder, and Maleta suddenly felt really bad for asking the question. He seemed much more melancholy now, as though some great hope he'd held had been dashed.

He sat like that for so long that Maleta blushed a little, feeling terrible. "Never mind, it's okay--" she began, trying to get out of the embarrassing little situation, but he shook her head, silencing her.

The grey man looked down--but he wasn't really looking, she reminded himself, so maybe it was just habit--his lips turned up slightly in a sad, rueful smile. "No, Maleta, it's my fault. I shouldn't have expected--expected you to know me." His voice cracked slightly.

She frowned, curious as to his identity. "But then--who are you? If Mum fainted..."

"Then obviously seeing me was a shock," he filled in, his smile broadening, looking no less saddened. "Maleta--Mally--I'm not sure how to put it. This will sound ridiculous, I'm sure, but it isn't--"

She wished he'd just say it straight out.

Apparently, he sensed her irritation at his dallying. All the words came out at once, and when Maleta processed them, her vision seemed to blur a bit, and her stomach turned over in its place. 'Maybe I'll join Mum for a spell,' she thought, closing her eyes and succumbing to the same strange darkness that had captured her mother.

Her last thoughts were his words, pounding in her head as heavily as the blood that charged through her brain. "This'll sound stupid and totally Star Wars, but Maleta? Err...I'm your father."

She awoke some time later on the couch. Kimi kneeled next to her, watching her like a hawk. When Maleta opened her eyes, her mother hugged her tightly. It looked like she'd been crying.

Maleta tried to sit up, but Kimi pinned her firmly to the bed. "I'm sorry, Mally," she told her. "You'll get an awful headache if you sit up that fast."

From her laying position, Maleta twisted her head around, looking for the grey man. She couldn't believe what he'd told her. For one thing, it seemed insane. It seemed ridiculous and impossible. For another, if the grey man was her father...where had he been? Why hadn't he come back to them? What kept him away so long?

"He's in the kitchen," Kimi told her, as though she'd read her daughter's mind. "Did--did he tell you, Maleta?" Her voice was trembling like an aspen leaf in the wind.

Maleta nodded dumbly, unsure of what to say. Finally, she gathered her wits. "Can I sit up now?"

"Slowly," Kimi commanded, loosening her grip on her daughter.

Maleta sat up, her head clearing a little. She suddenly realized that her mother had been crying. She felt like crying right now. "Mummy...?"

"We'll figure it out later," Kimi murmured, sitting next to her daughter. She gathered her in her arms, cradling the girl against her. "First, I need to speak to him, all right?"

She nodded again, her face buried against her mother. "Okay."

"Do you want to go over to Ivy's house tonight? I can call up her mother--I'm sure she'd let you."

"Yeah." Something told Maleta that whatever happened next could involve a lot of crying or shouting or both. She didn't want to be part of it. "Can I go get my stuff while you call?"

Kimi nodded, reluctantly letting go of her daughter. It was painful, when all she wanted to do was either hold something or be held, but for now, she had to be strong. 'My name is Kimi Hanako Watanabe Finster Pickles,' she thought to herself, 'and I will not be afraid. I am not afraid.'

It was a lie. Everything seemed like a lie to her now. Her fingers shook as she dialed the Kings' phone number, and her voice shook equally. She could only imagine what Tara King thought of Kimi's lack of composure.

"Yes, for the night...Thank you...if you could pick her up, that would be wonderful," Kimi murmured, gripping the telephone as though it seperated her from death. "Thank you so much, Tara--I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"No need," she answered reassuringly. "I'll be over in five minutes, all right? Whatever's wrong will be set to rights, I'm sure, Kimi. Don't worry."

Ten minutes later, Maleta was safely off, and Kimi was on her own. She leaned against the front door, taking a deep breath. Here came the hard part. Walking to the kitchen, she held her head high, telling herself that she was brave. She was brave and strong. She'd become her own person, raised a little girl on her own, and was a success in the fashion world. She could handle confronting her husband.

Or, at least, she hoped she could.

-----

Gah, I hope it wasn't too cliche, but it was planned from the start. The point of the story isn't so much to do something new and different, but to explore the characters' pasts (as I see them) and see how that affects them when they meet again.

Thank you for the lovely reviews! Keep it up, heh! They mean more to me than you'd think.

This chapter is inspired by Bette Midler's "The Rose". It's a powerful song. Enjoy it, and I'll see you next time, when Tommy and Kimi finally confront each other. Much love!

Some say love it is a river

That drowns the tender reed.

Some say love it is a razor

That leaves your soul to bleed.

Some say love it is a hunger

An endless, aching need

I say love it is a flower

And you its only seed.

It's the heart afraid of breaking

That never learns to dance

It's the dream afraid of waking

That never takes the chance.

Its the one who won't be taken

Who cannot seem to give

And the soul afraid of dying

That never learns to live.

And the night has been too lonely

And the road has been too long.

And you think that love is only

For the lucky and the strong.

Just remember in the winter

Far beneath the bitter snow

Lies the seed that with the sun's love,

In the spring,

becomes a rose.