Please people at FF, keep reviewing!
I got far less reviews than usual for Chapter 12, what's up, you don't like the story anymore?
Chapter
13: Home sweet home…or not
Sydney
had come out of the hospital the following day, after lunch, as
promised by her father. He had taken her home himself. She was glad
to be out but was under strict orders from the doctor. She had to
take it easy because of her bruised ribs: no lifting, no running, and
no efforts of any kind. Apart from this and few cuts and bruises, she
would be fine. She was healing nicely and soon, there would be no
apparent signs of what had happened to her. Still, her memories would
probably remain forever. She couldn't tell if it was a good thing or
a bad thing. Yeah there were some bad times, some tough moments, but
there was also her mother's involvement.
Now, her mother wasn't there anymore, and Sydney missed her, despite the way they had left each other…or rather, the way Irina had dumped Sydney without giving her the opportunity to say goodbye. Back in Italy, Sydney had known she would have to let go, eventually, that it wasn't possible for her mother to be a part of her life, but still, being alone hurt. She wasn't exactly alone her father was here. He hadn't stopped working, he just did his job from his study, but he hadn't left the house in three days. It was a record for a work alcoholic like him.
Much to the distress of Sydney, though her father was 'here', she wasn't seeing much of him. It wasn't the 'here with her' kind of 'here', it was rather the 'here in the same house as her' kind of 'here'. He cared enough to ask if she was feeling okay from time to time. He asked if she needed anything too, but it wasn't going farther than that.
Day by day, she could see they were going back to the relation they had before it happened. Before she was kidnapped and beaten. She had naively thought he would be different, after coming so close to losing her. She decidedly had it all wrong! First her mother, now her father. How could parents be so deceitful? How could that be? Parents were supposed to protect you, not to hurt you, lie to you, or betray you? The lying part was pushing it a little. Lies could sometimes protect you, sometimes they were a necessary evil. Anyway, Irina and Jack weren't acting like parents, not like average parents at the least.
Ever since she had gotten back from the hospital, Sydney had tried to spend as much time as possible with Francie. She felt guilty her friend got hurt because of her, but she also needed the distraction, to take her mind off of things. Mostly, her being kidnapped, discovering her mother was alive, being saved from ruthless killers, and finally, losing her mother once more, resulting in her being back home, alone.
She had thought she could get back to her life as if nothing had happened but she couldn't. Despite her doctor's recommendations to take it easy and her father's worry, she had left the house for a run. Nothing was on TV; she was bored and suffocating in the house. She had dressed in sweat pants and a hooded jacket, had put on her running shoes. She had stayed on the driveway for a minute, admiring the shiny sun. Her street was the same; it hadn't changed. Cars parked on both sides of the road, children toys haphazardly sprawled all over her neighbour's garden, kids playing in the grass, teenagers practising their roller skating skills, children biking up and down the street. She had changed and she knew it. She had started to run toward the park, but couldn't go further than the 'stop' sign at the end of the street.
The further away she had gone from her house, the worse she had felt. Things had started spinning around her. She couldn't help but scrutinize everything around her. Was this guy reading his newspaper a Russian killer sent to kill her? Was that couple of joggers planning on kidnapping her? She had tried to spot her escorts, to reassure herself. Her father had been reluctant to give her many details, about anything related to her kidnapping or his work. He had mentioned that the Russian people had gained nothing from kidnapping her. She had felt reassured; she didn't want to be the cause of anything bad. He had also mentioned that she was being permanently protected by a minimum of six men. She knew they weren't the only people out there, focussed on her person. Her mother was there too, somewhere, watching her from afar. It was not fair, that Irina could see her and that she couldn't. Still, it felt oddly reassuring to know her mother was watching over her. It meant Sydney was safe from the Russians, and most importantly, it meant Irina really cared about her.
This morning, five days after her release from the hospital, she had woken up to an empty house. Gone was her father and his car. After checking his room and his study, she knew he had left for a trip. His suitcase was missing, and so was his laptop. He had left her, without saying goodbye. Talk about déjà vu. She had sighed, been annoyed, but not so surprised. It was to be expected. Jack Bristow was an important man, with an important job. Still, it didn't make it sting any less. He could have said something.
Surprisingly, Sydney's father had left a note by the phone. It was new. He usually didn't let her know when he left or when he would come back. She was used to it. She did her own cooking and the housekeeper was taking care of the cleaning. She did the grocery shopping with the money he left on the kitchen counter. The note was short, to the point, but it was an improvement. It said he had to leave without notification for a trip in Europe and that he wouldn't be back for a few days. It was signed 'Dad'. No 'I love you', or 'take care of yourself', just 'Dad'.
Sighing, she threw the note in the trashcan and called Francie. "Hey, it's me."
"Hey Syd, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I was wondering, you want to grab lunch with me?"
"Yeah sure, that would be great! Is your father okay with that?" Sydney had told Francie all about her father being worried every time she would go out of the house.
"Yeah, it's cool, he's not there. He left on a trip."
"So soon? He could have waited 'til you felt better," said Francie, reproachful.
"I don't mind. So, 12h at Luke's Cafe?"
"Sounds good, see you there."
Content with her plans for the day, Sydney decided to take a drive around the neighbourhood. She was getting sick of being secluded between four walls. She felt safe in her car and she enjoyed driving.
She drove around aimlessly for one hour before stopping by the cemetery. She didn't know how she had ended up here, and didn't really care. Hesitating, she weighed her options. She could turn around and go back to her place or she could stay here and walk toward her mother grave. It was, after all, the only reason she had come here in the first place. It was almost twelve o'clock and she didn't want to be late for her meet with Francie.
A few minutes later, she stopped in front of her mother's grave. She used to come here often, to talk to her mother. Now, those moments were tainted. It felt pointless to be here knowing her mother was not dead. The grave was empty, as the body had never been recovered, but her father had insisted on having a grave made for her, even though it would remain empty. She read the epitaph aloud, as she had done many times before. "Laura C. Bristow, loving wife and mother, 1951-1981". The name was a fake. What about the 'loving wife and mother'? Sydney couldn't tell. She didn't know anymore.
Her mother had betrayed her once, by leaving her when she was six, by making her believe she was dead for twelve years. She had betrayed her again only a few days ago, in the same fashion: she had left her without warning, without saying goodbye, without apparent reason. Had she ever loved Sydney? Yes, of course she did. It was obvious. Despite everything Sydney saw and learned in the past week, she knew her mother loved her and always had. Actually, what she witnessed had only reinforced her belief in her mother's love.
Still, the feeling of betrayal was strong more than any thing. It was painful, pervasive, unsettling. Shaking her head, she left the cemetery. She hadn't found relief by coming here. It only made her angrier.
Eventually, she left the cemetery for Luke's Cafe, downtown. Both girls had a great time. After a long lunch, they went to the park and settled on a bench. They watched the ducks in the pond, and the children playing in the grass. Finally, to finish the day in beauty, Francie invited Sydney over for a movie night. It meant soda, popcorn, and silly movies, like comedies. After the second film and her third can of Coke, Sydney needed a bathroom break.
She went upstairs and as she entered, someone slightly pushed her, closing the door behind them both. Gasping, she turned around in surprise. It was her mother. "What are you doing here? You told me yourself it was dangerous!"
"Shhhh! Not so loud. This house isn't under surveillance. I arrived long before you did. After seeing you having lunch with your friend this morning, I had hoped you would come here, eventually."
"What? But what if someone had seen you?"
"Your friend already did and she said nothing, not even to you. Her parents weren't here when I got here. Stop worrying about that." Then more softly, "How are you feeling, darling?"
"I'm fine, thank you for asking," harshly replied Sydney, still mad at her mother for drugging her and for breaking into her friend's house. "Now, when did you see Fran?"
"When I brought you here."
Sydney threw her hands in the air, exasperated, "Of course you did."
"I'm sorry it had to be this way…"
"I don't want to hear your excuses. 'You' decided to drug me, 'you' decided to have me unconscious while you took me back to LA. It didn't have to be this way; you just 'wanted' it this way. I just don't know why."
"Sydney…"
"I don't want to see you anymore," interrupted the young girl.
"Why?" Irina was shocked.
"You heard me. You made me believe you cared about me while planning your little stunt. When we were talking, you knew what you'd do. I woke up in the hospital twenty-four hours after going to bed. I had no idea of where I was. You should have told me what you were doing! I had a right to know. You didn't even let me say goodbye!"
"I was protecting you, so you wouldn't have to lie." Irina said slowly, carefully. She realized her daughter was angry.
"I covered you! I told them Nikolai was the leader. What's one more lie? It was my decision to make, my choice. You took that away from me."
At that, Irina's head snapped up. "Everything I did I did to protect you and I made a promise to Katya, I promised her no one would bother her with questions about you or me. I couldn't have you being able to ID her plane or know the location of her home."
"Protect me? What's with you and Dad? I'm eighteen and I don't need protection! I wouldn't have said anything!"
"I know! That's not the point," argued Irina feebly, distracted by the mention of Jack.
"What kind of mother are you? What kind of mother kidnaps her child, leaves her to be beaten, drugs her…"
"It was necessary! Your father is alive and so are you. It's all that matters. I already explained all of that. I am sorry about Nikolai. I didn't know. If I had, do you really think I would have let it happen?"
"No, I know all of that…" whispered Sydney. She knew her mother had acted for the best, but she still resented her for spoiling their 'reunion' in Italy.
"And I love you, never doubt that," added Irina firmly.
"I know that too. You just don't care about me."
"Yes, I do!" Defended Irina, shocked.
"Not enough to ask yourself what I feel, not enough to let me make my own decision, not enough to let me in your plans. Or is it just that you don't trust me?"
"Sydney! Of course I trust you, you're my daughter!"
"So? You're my mother and I don't trust you." After a pause, she went on. "I kissed you goodnight, I told you I loved you. I did, I still do. It goes with the title of 'mother'; I can't take that away from you. But trust…you have to earn it, it doesn't go with the parental package. You lost mine the second I woke up in Los Angeles." She finished bitterly.
"Sydney…" Irina's eyes stung. She had screwed it up. Once again, she had miscalculated. The human factor was tricky. She hadn't thought her daughter would be so angry with her.
"One more question. Was I really passed out when I got to Italy? Or did you have me drugged back then? I'm asking because it seemed like an awfully long time to stay unconscious from natural causes."
Irina lowered her head, flinching. "I thought so," sighed Sydney, turning her back on her mother.
"I can explain…"
"Just…leave me alone. I don't want to see you ever again."
"Sydney!"
"Get out! If you don't I'll scream," threatened Sydney.
Irina slowly nodded. "Alright." She reached out for the door handle.
"Wait."
They had their back to each other, making it easier to talk. "Yes?" Hope seized Irina, but left her as soon as Sydney spoke.
"Don't feel obligated to stay in LA until the end of the week. Go back to your motherland and your dirty business. I raised myself; I don't need an adult to watch over me now that I'm eighteen." After a pause, she quietly added, "I don't need 'you'."
Irina didn't reply, didn't turn around, and simply left the bathroom. She would hide in one of the room upstairs, until the path was clear.
Sydney hoped her mother hadn't seen her cry. She splashed cold water on her face and tried to compose herself. She just had to hold herself together long enough to get out of the house.
Returning to the living room, she told Francie she was tired and needed to go home. Her friend was surprised but didn't question her. They hugged each other and Sydney left.
She went to her mother's grave for the second time in a week. This time she had brought flowers with her. She had left a card in the bouquet, in hope that a certain someone would get it. She was almost certain her mother had left the city after the bathroom episode, but still, if there were the slightest chance, Sydney would take it. She sighed and carefully deposited the flowers on the grass. She left the cemetery without looking back.
A few minutes after she left, a man dressed in a suit approached the spot she was standing on minutes ago. He looked around him and, seeing no one, picked up the card. He read it and put it back in its place before heading to his car. The man in the driver's seat threw him a questioning look. He shrugged and climbed in beside him.
In Italy, Irina was laying on her bed, lost in thoughts. Sydney's words kept coming back to her, louder and louder. It hurt. It was the truth. Did that mean she was a bad mother? She wistfully wondered what it would have been like, if she had been around to see Sydney grow up, to participate in her education. Would she have been a good mother to Sydney?
A knock came at the door. Hearing no reply, Katya poked her head in. Irina had come back to her sister's home the night Sydney had thrown her out of her friend's bathroom. Katya didn't ask questions, she had just let her in, showed her to her room, and asked if she needed anything. Irina didn't.
When she had seen Sydney in Los Angeles, her daughter had threatened to call the CIA on her. She knew Irina would probably be killed if the CIA caught her, would she have really called them. Irina would never know. She didn't know Sydney; she couldn't tell what her daughter was most likely to do or not to do. She couldn't judge because she had no ground to judge. Sydney was practically a stranger to Irina. She had gone from a little girl playing with a balloon to a grown woman driving a SUV. Irina had missed a lot in between.
She had thought not having any kind of contact with Sydney was for the best. She wasn't sure she could have stayed away, knowing what was going on in her child's life. Despite being a SVR agent and a ruthless killer (God she hoped Sydney would never find out what she had done), she was still a mother. Sydney's mother. She had had no photos, no reports on her daughter's activities for twelve years. She had been literally clueless.
After Kashmir, she had needed time to heal, to figure out what to do with herself. She had entered the SVR and promised herself that she wouldn't get thrown back in prison. She had hoped that cutting all ties with America and the KGB would give her a new chance. If no one knew about her daughter, then no one would try to find Sydney to get to her. Then, she herself had given away Sydney to her superiors.
"Are you brooding?"
Katya's question brought Irina back to reality. She looked over at her sister, confused.
"What?"
"Something is bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?"
"No. I'm fine." Before Katya's hurt look, Irina added with a small smile, "thanks for asking."
"You're welcome." A silence went by. "I know we're not really close, but…we used to be. I miss that. I miss our gossip about boys, our long talks at night."
"We're not children anymore Katya," replied Irina somberly.
"I know. But we're still sisters."
Back in her room, Sydney wondered. Had she made the good choice? Would it pan out? She didn't know if her mother was still there, but she prayed she was. Otherwise, she would never see her again. Irina would never know what Sydney felt for her, and Sydney would leave forever with the regret of that night. The night she pushed her mother away.
TBC