Mary McGinnis was uncomfortable. She felt shoddily dressed in her best clothes. She felt inadequate in the proprietary manner necessary to attend this upscale restaurant that Terry had taken them to. She even felt a little ill. Flu was going around at work and she wondered if she was the next victim. To make matters worse was having to deal with her loved ones joining her at table. There was so much unease and tension among them that she wanted to make feeble excuses to Terry and rush from the place.
She wouldn't do that, of course. The fact that her eldest child had offered -- insisted actually -- on treating them to this elegant meal was an unusually generous gesture of time on his part. If only everyone could put aside their differences for this short time together. The personality conflicts present here read like a soap opera script. There was Matt's indifference, bordering on hatred, towards his brother; Terry's guarded dislike for Tony, a man friend whose company she had enjoyed the last few months and amiable Tony's constant attempts to be cheery that were becoming annoying, even to her.
Since Terry had returned from vacation, his visits home had become more frequent. Her pleasant surprise at the change gave gradually away to concern. There was something different about him that she could not quite name. A vulnerability that she had not sensed from him since his father had died.
Granted, Terry's road to maturity had been a rough one, but he had come solidly into his own with Mr. Wayne's guidance. And he must be deeply involved in the company workings by the way he talked openly about his job now. Warren would have been proud of him taking on so much responsibility at such a young age.
Now if only Matthew could appreciate where his brother was at and show a little less resentment. She couldn't say exactly when it had started. Matt used to love attention from his big brother and Terry seemed to enjoy giving it, along with being the father figure Matt needed. But the demands of Terry's job had increased over the years and time spent with his family had decreased to the point where days passed without hearing a word from him.
The vivid memory of Matty's twelfth birthday was when she realized the depth of her youngest's negative feelings towards his brother. As a gift, Terry had promised to take Matt to the coveted 'Hover Drag Races' using Bruce Wayne's connections to get tickets for the event that had been sold out two years in advance. Mary had never seen Matt so excited. For days he announced to anyone who would listen about where he was going and bragged what a bigshot his brother was to be able to get those tickets.
The special day came and Matt waited, eager and impatient, at the appointed time for Terry to pick him up. Over two hours later Terry finally called. Mary did not need to hear the conversation to know what Terry was saying. Matt's expression of disappointment would have pricked at the heart of even the most emotionally jaded person. She had felt tears in her eyes and quickly wiped them away.
Looking dazed, Matt set the phone aside. She prompted softly.
"Matty?"
"Um.... he can't make it. Some kind of emergency at work. Mr. Wayne needs him there."
"Oh honey. I'm sorry."
"It's okay." Young shoulders lifted and fell. "He said he'd make it up to me, but you know what? I don't believe him anymore." Hurt and bitterness crept into his voice. "He doesn't care about us Mom. I think he'd be happier if we didn't exist."
"That's not true Matt. It's just his job is so demanding and Mr. Wayne expects him to do his best. And... "
Mary had hesitated, not wanting to speak the truth outloud because it was admitting her inadequacy as a parent. "... we've certainly benefited financially from his job. We couldn't afford to live this nicely on just the income I'm bringing in."
"Whatever." Matt shrugged again. "I can't wait till I'm old enough to get a real job. Then we wouldn't need him at all anymore."
She remembered, a few days later, being witness to Terry's profuse and sincere apology to his brother and Matt's insincere nod of forgiveness and grudging acceptence of Terry's offer to take him -- right now -- for a hang-gliding lesson. When they returned that evening, Matt's face was flushed with wonder and excitement as he told her about the experience. Terry seemed content as he sat and listened. When he suggested to Matt they could do it again soon, his little brother's reply left him visibly stunned. Matt had simply spoken the truth of his feelings.
"No thanks. I know how busy you are and all. I don't want you to say things you don't really mean."
He didn't give Terry a chance to respond as he bid them both a quick goodnight and disappeared into his room.
Mary eyed her eldest sitting in comtemplative silence. He looked tired. Then again -- he always looked tired when she saw him. She had been about to ask him if he was all right when the buzz of his phone snapped him to alertness. It was a magical sight as the droop of fatigue gave way to muscles going taut with coiled strength.
She watched Terry's brow furrow and listened to his deep voice question the caller.
"You sure?" A pause then... "That doesn't follow the-- " Another pause and nod... "Okay. I'll be there."
With an almost indiscernable motion he slipped the phone beneath his jacket and returned attention to her.
Mary showed him her most serene, understanding, motherly smile. He responded by relaxing a notch from the tension he had built up. They had the routine down now. She wouldn't ask questions and he wouldn't have to make excuses.
She had stopped questioning when her mind finally concluded that her son was more than businessman Bruce Wayne's executive assistant. Because she couldn't think of a better answer she began assuming that perhaps Mr. Wayne was the head of some undercover government agency and over the years had been secretly grooming her son for a role in the organization. A wild, crazy guess maybe, but half believing it helped her to half believe her son was properly trained for whatever it was that made him work those insane hours; display such constant, evident fatigue; show frequent signs of injury he obviously couldn't hide and act with such a subtle powerful self-confidance that it made Mary burst with pride at sensing the man her son had become.
No matter what he was doing in reality, Mary knew she could not change it.
But lately, something had changed him. She caught herself staring as the waitress placed a drink before him, the third since they had been seated twenty minutes ago. When had she ever seen him down one drink, much less three, in such a short time? Noting her questioning look, Terry stopped at mid-swig, averted his gaze to the glass held in his hand and slowly set it down on the table. His fingers remained in contact with the damp container while his blue eyes flicked up to meet her green ones. Before he lowered them she thought she saw clear signs of guilt registered there. Matt's bored voice broke the moment.
"This is majorly unschway Mom. Sitting around forever waiting for food that'll probably taste like nothing. And everyone is so stuffed-shirt in this place. I'm hoping they'll all blow it out their ears at the same time." He laughed as his imagination provided entertainment. "Heh, be so schway to see people walking around with their brains blowing out through the holes in their heads."
Mary covered her mouth as the grotesque picture of Matt's words triggered a rise of nausea.
"Really Matt." Tony admonished, his forced good-nature finally leaving him. "Was that necessary? You've upset your mother."
"Way to go twip." Terry seconded his disgust. "Aren't you ever going to grow up?"
Matt rounded fiercely on his brother. "Just shut up! At least I never did all the stupid stuff you did when you were my age!"
"Boys, please." Mary begged. "Could we try to be civil to each other?"
"You look pale Mary. Are you feeling all right?"
"I'm fine." She felt awful. It was taking a great effort to maintain a semblance of wellness. This flu bug seemed to be hitting her like a ton of bricks all of a sudden. "It's been a tiring day and I just don't have the energy to deal with this uncharitable attitude between my sons." Her voice snapped with irritation and she sent a sharp disapproving glare to each of them.
A high pitched clatter of clashing glass and dinnerware intruded on the hushed atmosphere of the dining room. Startled gasps and sharp murmured words drew everyone's attention to a fallen waitress. The trays she had been carrying were lying scattered around her. Other waitstaff hurried to her side where she moaned softly, her hands groping weakly over the mound of her pregnant belly.
Another squeal of fright impinged on the already tense room. An elderly woman at a nearby table was leaning worridly over her heavy-set husband who was slumped across his dinner. Terry darted from his chair to help, gently lowering the unconscious man to the floor while the distraught wife babbled helplessly.
Through increasingly bleary eyes, Mary watched her son begin first aid procedures. A piercing shout from further across the room diverted her attention again.
"Someone help! I think he's choking!"
Her body feeling unnaturally sluggish, Mary turned in her seat and squinted to focus on a frail-looking young man in a wheelchair, his mouth open and gasping soundlessly for air. A middle-aged man and woman from another table rushed over to lift the suffering man and perform the standard manuever to dislodge airway obstructions.
Further sounds of distress began to fill the, previously sedate, dining room. Feeling confused and faint, Mary clung weakly to her chair wondering if she was having a waking nightmare. The muted buzz of Tony's voice sounded beside her, but darkening vision kept her from seeing him. The last of her strength left and she felt herself falling. The sound of Matt calling out in alarm was the last thing she heard before consciousness faded.
***********************
She wouldn't do that, of course. The fact that her eldest child had offered -- insisted actually -- on treating them to this elegant meal was an unusually generous gesture of time on his part. If only everyone could put aside their differences for this short time together. The personality conflicts present here read like a soap opera script. There was Matt's indifference, bordering on hatred, towards his brother; Terry's guarded dislike for Tony, a man friend whose company she had enjoyed the last few months and amiable Tony's constant attempts to be cheery that were becoming annoying, even to her.
Since Terry had returned from vacation, his visits home had become more frequent. Her pleasant surprise at the change gave gradually away to concern. There was something different about him that she could not quite name. A vulnerability that she had not sensed from him since his father had died.
Granted, Terry's road to maturity had been a rough one, but he had come solidly into his own with Mr. Wayne's guidance. And he must be deeply involved in the company workings by the way he talked openly about his job now. Warren would have been proud of him taking on so much responsibility at such a young age.
Now if only Matthew could appreciate where his brother was at and show a little less resentment. She couldn't say exactly when it had started. Matt used to love attention from his big brother and Terry seemed to enjoy giving it, along with being the father figure Matt needed. But the demands of Terry's job had increased over the years and time spent with his family had decreased to the point where days passed without hearing a word from him.
The vivid memory of Matty's twelfth birthday was when she realized the depth of her youngest's negative feelings towards his brother. As a gift, Terry had promised to take Matt to the coveted 'Hover Drag Races' using Bruce Wayne's connections to get tickets for the event that had been sold out two years in advance. Mary had never seen Matt so excited. For days he announced to anyone who would listen about where he was going and bragged what a bigshot his brother was to be able to get those tickets.
The special day came and Matt waited, eager and impatient, at the appointed time for Terry to pick him up. Over two hours later Terry finally called. Mary did not need to hear the conversation to know what Terry was saying. Matt's expression of disappointment would have pricked at the heart of even the most emotionally jaded person. She had felt tears in her eyes and quickly wiped them away.
Looking dazed, Matt set the phone aside. She prompted softly.
"Matty?"
"Um.... he can't make it. Some kind of emergency at work. Mr. Wayne needs him there."
"Oh honey. I'm sorry."
"It's okay." Young shoulders lifted and fell. "He said he'd make it up to me, but you know what? I don't believe him anymore." Hurt and bitterness crept into his voice. "He doesn't care about us Mom. I think he'd be happier if we didn't exist."
"That's not true Matt. It's just his job is so demanding and Mr. Wayne expects him to do his best. And... "
Mary had hesitated, not wanting to speak the truth outloud because it was admitting her inadequacy as a parent. "... we've certainly benefited financially from his job. We couldn't afford to live this nicely on just the income I'm bringing in."
"Whatever." Matt shrugged again. "I can't wait till I'm old enough to get a real job. Then we wouldn't need him at all anymore."
She remembered, a few days later, being witness to Terry's profuse and sincere apology to his brother and Matt's insincere nod of forgiveness and grudging acceptence of Terry's offer to take him -- right now -- for a hang-gliding lesson. When they returned that evening, Matt's face was flushed with wonder and excitement as he told her about the experience. Terry seemed content as he sat and listened. When he suggested to Matt they could do it again soon, his little brother's reply left him visibly stunned. Matt had simply spoken the truth of his feelings.
"No thanks. I know how busy you are and all. I don't want you to say things you don't really mean."
He didn't give Terry a chance to respond as he bid them both a quick goodnight and disappeared into his room.
Mary eyed her eldest sitting in comtemplative silence. He looked tired. Then again -- he always looked tired when she saw him. She had been about to ask him if he was all right when the buzz of his phone snapped him to alertness. It was a magical sight as the droop of fatigue gave way to muscles going taut with coiled strength.
She watched Terry's brow furrow and listened to his deep voice question the caller.
"You sure?" A pause then... "That doesn't follow the-- " Another pause and nod... "Okay. I'll be there."
With an almost indiscernable motion he slipped the phone beneath his jacket and returned attention to her.
Mary showed him her most serene, understanding, motherly smile. He responded by relaxing a notch from the tension he had built up. They had the routine down now. She wouldn't ask questions and he wouldn't have to make excuses.
She had stopped questioning when her mind finally concluded that her son was more than businessman Bruce Wayne's executive assistant. Because she couldn't think of a better answer she began assuming that perhaps Mr. Wayne was the head of some undercover government agency and over the years had been secretly grooming her son for a role in the organization. A wild, crazy guess maybe, but half believing it helped her to half believe her son was properly trained for whatever it was that made him work those insane hours; display such constant, evident fatigue; show frequent signs of injury he obviously couldn't hide and act with such a subtle powerful self-confidance that it made Mary burst with pride at sensing the man her son had become.
No matter what he was doing in reality, Mary knew she could not change it.
But lately, something had changed him. She caught herself staring as the waitress placed a drink before him, the third since they had been seated twenty minutes ago. When had she ever seen him down one drink, much less three, in such a short time? Noting her questioning look, Terry stopped at mid-swig, averted his gaze to the glass held in his hand and slowly set it down on the table. His fingers remained in contact with the damp container while his blue eyes flicked up to meet her green ones. Before he lowered them she thought she saw clear signs of guilt registered there. Matt's bored voice broke the moment.
"This is majorly unschway Mom. Sitting around forever waiting for food that'll probably taste like nothing. And everyone is so stuffed-shirt in this place. I'm hoping they'll all blow it out their ears at the same time." He laughed as his imagination provided entertainment. "Heh, be so schway to see people walking around with their brains blowing out through the holes in their heads."
Mary covered her mouth as the grotesque picture of Matt's words triggered a rise of nausea.
"Really Matt." Tony admonished, his forced good-nature finally leaving him. "Was that necessary? You've upset your mother."
"Way to go twip." Terry seconded his disgust. "Aren't you ever going to grow up?"
Matt rounded fiercely on his brother. "Just shut up! At least I never did all the stupid stuff you did when you were my age!"
"Boys, please." Mary begged. "Could we try to be civil to each other?"
"You look pale Mary. Are you feeling all right?"
"I'm fine." She felt awful. It was taking a great effort to maintain a semblance of wellness. This flu bug seemed to be hitting her like a ton of bricks all of a sudden. "It's been a tiring day and I just don't have the energy to deal with this uncharitable attitude between my sons." Her voice snapped with irritation and she sent a sharp disapproving glare to each of them.
A high pitched clatter of clashing glass and dinnerware intruded on the hushed atmosphere of the dining room. Startled gasps and sharp murmured words drew everyone's attention to a fallen waitress. The trays she had been carrying were lying scattered around her. Other waitstaff hurried to her side where she moaned softly, her hands groping weakly over the mound of her pregnant belly.
Another squeal of fright impinged on the already tense room. An elderly woman at a nearby table was leaning worridly over her heavy-set husband who was slumped across his dinner. Terry darted from his chair to help, gently lowering the unconscious man to the floor while the distraught wife babbled helplessly.
Through increasingly bleary eyes, Mary watched her son begin first aid procedures. A piercing shout from further across the room diverted her attention again.
"Someone help! I think he's choking!"
Her body feeling unnaturally sluggish, Mary turned in her seat and squinted to focus on a frail-looking young man in a wheelchair, his mouth open and gasping soundlessly for air. A middle-aged man and woman from another table rushed over to lift the suffering man and perform the standard manuever to dislodge airway obstructions.
Further sounds of distress began to fill the, previously sedate, dining room. Feeling confused and faint, Mary clung weakly to her chair wondering if she was having a waking nightmare. The muted buzz of Tony's voice sounded beside her, but darkening vision kept her from seeing him. The last of her strength left and she felt herself falling. The sound of Matt calling out in alarm was the last thing she heard before consciousness faded.
***********************