Part Twenty-four

The first time Sydney's father met Michael, it was practically an accident. Sydney had spoken to her father even less then than she did now, so though she'd been dating Michael for something like three months, her father didn't even know he existed. She'd bumped into her father at a big party Michael's law firm had thrown, walking away from the bar.

"Dad!" She'd been in an extraordinarily good mood that night; her relationship with Michael was still new enough that she was in a perpetual state of giddiness, yet she already felt so close to him. She'd been nervous and thrilled when he'd asked her to attend the firm's party with him, and so far she was having a wonderful time-- dancing with Michael, meeting his colleagues, all the while looking like a million bucks in a satiny black, practically backless dress. "Wow, look at you in that tux, you look great!"

"Thank you, Sydney," he'd responded, looking more than a little taken aback at seeing her. "You look great, too."

"Thanks," Sydney had said, beaming. Michael was off talking to someone, and she'd gone to get a quick drink. "So-- wow, I didn't expect to see you here. Jennings Aerospace must be one of the firm's clients."

He'd seemed bewildered by the casual, familiar way she'd said the firm. "Yes. Yes, it is. I had to make an appearance. What are you--?"

"Oh," she'd said with a smile. "My boyfriend, Michael Vaughn, is an attorney th-- oh, here he is."

"Sweetheart, there you are," Michael had said, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. "I've been looking everywhere for you, you still haven't met Mr. Kendall."

"Oh, I don't know, Michael," she'd said worriedly. "Meeting your boss…"

"He'll love you," Michael had assured her. "Everyone does."

"You're so sweet." They'd kissed twice before Sydney had realized her father was still standing there, or rather, Michael had.

"Hi," he'd said smoothly. "I don't think we've met. I'm Michael Vaughn, I'm an associate at Kendall and Peters."

"Oh, gosh, I'm so rude," Sydney had blurted out. "Michael, this is my father, Jack Bristow, Dad, this is Michael, my boyfriend."

"A pleasure," her father had said, shaking Michael's hand before turning curious eyes back to Sydney. "That's a beautiful dress, Sydney."

"Thank you," Sydney had said, beaming.

"It looks--" her father had said, looking as if he were struggling to choose his words carefully. "It looks rather expensive, if you don't mind my saying so."

Sydney had minded, actually, but she'd been so happy that night that she'd glossed over the comment. "Oh-- it was a gift from Michael," she'd responded, slipping an arm around her boyfriend's waist, letting the other hand rest lightly on the lapel of his tuxedo jacket. "He spoils me a bit, I'm afraid."

"Syd, I dragged you to this thing, it was the least I could do."

"Hmm, I suppose so," she'd teased, adjusting his tie playfully. "I'm having such a miserable time, after all."

"Are you?" he'd asked, the glint in his eye telling her that he knew she wasn't serious.

"Yes, baby," she'd responded coyly. "I don't know how you'll ever make it up to me."

"I should leave you two alone." Sydney's father had looked terribly uncomfortable, and though she had been too wrapped up in Michael to notice then, now she couldn't say she blamed him. She and Michael had been in that early stage of love where they'd scarcely been able to keep their hands or their eyes off of each other; she imagined that anyone they'd talked to that night must have felt like they were intruding.

Still, Sydney had seen the wheels turning in her father's head, the questions in his eyes-- Who was this man? How long had he and Sydney been together? They seemed close-- how was it that he had never heard of him? The truth was, Jack and Sydney hadn't even spoken since Sydney had begun seeing Michael. Her father hadn't known that then, but Sydney suspected that he had known one thing: he didn't know his daughter at all anymore. He'd thought he'd known about her life, or at least the important parts-- he'd known where she'd gone to college, where she was teaching school, he even knew her best friend Francie. But now here she was in front of him, a young woman, impeccably dressed and perfectly made up, beautiful and obviously in love. Sydney supposes it must be hard for any father, realizing that his little girl is all grown up, but it must have been even harder for Jack Bristow: she'd grown up when he wasn't looking, and he didn't know anything about her anymore.

Seeing her like that must have been enough to make the man panic, because he'd made more of an effort to be part of her life after that. He'd called her later that week and asked her out to lunch, something she could never remember him doing before. He'd done reasonably well, calling at least once a month, dropping by the house every now and then after she and Michael's kids were born. But he'd made a mistake, at least as far as Sydney was concerned: he'd started to think he knew her well enough to make judgments about her and her life, when the truth was, he hadn't even begun to know her. He'd never seemed to understand that. Sydney thought that at the previous night's dinner, he was at least beginning to. Their relationship was profoundly messed up and they made steps painstakingly slowly, but at least they were making them.

"Earth to Sydney."

Sydney shakes her head as if to clear the thoughts from it and turns to Francie. She, Michael, and the children are having lunch with Francie and Will; Francie had excused herself to use the phone while Michael and Will were busy with the grill, Jack and Emily played tag, and Gracie slept; Sydney had let herself get lost in thought. "Sorry."

"You looked pretty serious there," Francie said with a smile. Sydney couldn't help but smile, herself, at how happy Francie looked; after years of trying unsuccessfully, she was finally pregnant with her and Will's first child.

"I was just thinking about my father," Sydney sighs.

"Which I know is always fun," Francie jokes. "Are you going to see him while you're in town?"

"He spent yesterday afternoon with the kids, actually, and then Michael and I went over for pizza last night," Sydney confesses.

"How'd it go?"

Sydney shrugs. "All right," she says, deciding to leave it at that. "So, have you met this Ben Strand that Kerri's so crazy about?"

Francie's smile fades. "Yeah, I've met him."

"You don't like him?" Sydney asks with concern.

"Oh, no, it's not that, he seems great," Francie says hastily. "He's super sweet to her, and her boys even like him, which is a miracle since she and Eric haven't really been apart that long."

"Probably even they can tell how much happier Kerri is now," Sydney guesses.

"Yeah." Francie still doesn't sound convinced.

"Do you think-- what, that it's too soon?"

"Sort of," Francie sighs. "And part of me-- oh, don't tell her I said this."

"Of course not," Sydney assures her.

"Part of me's a little disappointed," Francie confesses. "She took the divorce really hard, you know, but she seemed like she was finally ready to move on with her life."

"And move on she did," Sydney says cryptically.

"Yeah, but not--" Francie frowns as if trying to put her thoughts into words. "After she came back from that trip to New York, Sydney, I think she said she saw you there--"

"She did," Sydney confirms.

Francie nods. "Well, she came back in really high spirits, really positive, saying she'd decided she needed to take some time for herself, that she was going to take a nice long vacation, two weeks or maybe even a month, and really decide what her next step was going to be. Maybe I'll go back to school or work, maybe I'll take the boys and move somewhere completely different, somewhere where no one knows me, maybe I'll do something completely insane like start training for a marathon or take up rock climbing, whatever, but I just need some time to myself to figure out what I need. She seemed really sure about that, really excited about the possibilities for the future."

"She never took the trip," Sydney realizes.

"No," Francie sighs. "Ben moved to town, and she jumped right into a serious relationship with him, and now they're getting married, and it could be a great thing, Syd, I don't know, but she hasn't even taken the time to think anything through, to decide what she wants for herself."

"I was afraid of that." Sydney runs a hand back through her brown hair, a feeling of dread surging through her.

"Will you talk to her?"

Sydney looks at Francie, surprised. "And tell her what? Not to get married?"

"You don't have to go that far," Francie insists. "Just-- I don't know-- tell her I told you she was going to take a trip, and say what a great idea you think that was, and that she should still go."

"I don't know, Fran," Sydney sighs. "I don't think I should get involved."

Francie bit her lower lip. "None of us thought we should get involved when we suspected Eric was fooling around, either, and look how that turned out."

Sydney's eyes widen. "What, you think that would have turned out any differently if we had told her? You and I didn't know anything for sure, Fran. What were we supposed to say?"

"I don't know," Francie says, sitting back against the picnic table. "I just feel like we let Eric make a fool out of her. At least if she had known, she could have left him instead of letting him drop her like she was some piece of--" she stops short, shaking her head sadly.

"Fran, Kerri had to have had her suspicions, too," Sydney points out. "She just chose not to believe them, to look the other way."

"We could have forced her to see what was going on," Francie insists. "That's what friends do, Syd. Friends are supposed to do what's best for each other, even if it means they have to make each other uncomfortable or hurt each other's feelings."

"I thought friends were supposed to let each other live their own lives, yet still be there for each other no matter what." Sydney pauses. "Not that I've even lived up to that definition of a friend with Kerri."

"But she still really respects you," Francie responds. "She really thinks that you've got it all together, Syd. That's why I think you should be the one to talk to her."

"She thinks I've got it all together?" Sydney lets out a brittle little laugh. "Fran, I just got pregnant with my fourth child accidentally. Four months after giving birth to my third."

"But you're happy," Francie insists. "You occasionally come across a few bumps in the road, and your life is far from perfect, but you're happy."

"So are you," Sydney points out.

"But I'm more your friend than Kerri's, anyway, Syd," Francie says. "She and I never even would have met if it wasn't for you."

"But you're closer to her than I am now," Sydney responds. "Fran, I've talked to her like a half dozen times in the past year."

"Please, Syd."

They sit there in dead silence for what seems like an eternity.

"I'll think about it, okay?" Sydney finally says. "No promises."

"That means you'll do it," Francie says happily. "Thanks, Syd. You're the best."

Sydney isn't so sure.