A. N. Sorry for the delay folks, but there's this crazy little thing called work... And something called recovery (Man, thank god New Year's is just once a year -)
A. N. 2. I've rewritten this chap four times now. And I'm still not completely satisfied. But here goes nuthin'! It'll soon be done, and you'll all be glad to know that this is the last flashback! Yay! Oh, and for those of you keeping tabs, this is the only chap told in past tense.
To all the reviewers: Many thanks! This stuff doesn't write itself. It needs some kind of fuel, and you guys have given me a few gallons worth to work with. Baby T is credited to meetwickedfaith!
Two weeks to the day after she left, I got a note in the mail. Addressed to a B. Summers, I knew it was from her without even opening it. It read like this:
Dunno if you noticed, but I stole one of your checks before I left. Don't worry, I made sure it was void. Got me a new cell number that I want you to call if ever something happens. Tell Baby T someone loves her.
-- F. 555-6113
Needless to say that that was a shock. After spending two weeks filled with pain, Chinese take out, Spanish coffees, more pain, Ben & Jerry's, Joni Mitchell and a few cases of two fours, a letter from her was the last thing I was expecting. I must have read it over a thousand times. Sometimes alone, sometimes to Terry, sometimes to the ceiling…
"Tell Baby T someone loves her." What was she saying? That I had an option to let Teresa know about Faith? And that thing about her stealing a check? That became clear two weeks later when "someone" direct deposited three hundred dollars into my account. I know fuck all about child support, but that three hundred dollars appeared there every month. Like fucking clockwork.
Not surprisingly, the only thing that kept me sane through it all was Teresa. I'd get lost in those big brown eyes and somehow know that everything would eventually work itself out. That we, Terry and I, could get through this.
When I read the letter enough times, I neatly folded it and made sure to always have it on me. I programmed her number in my phone and swore to myself that I'd call if things ever got hairy in Lenwood. But they never did, so I never called.
From what I've read in baby books and on the internet, Teresa was labeled a quiet toddler. She kept mostly to herself, and almost never cried. She was good with the other kids at her daycare: she shared her toys and lead by example by never throwing any tantrums.
As every day went by, she became more and more like Faith's spitting image. She has my nose and my pouty lips, but that's it: everything else is Faith. Hair, dimples, eyes, smile… By the time she was three, she could carry good conversation, tie her shoes and give me a few gray hairs by getting lost at the grocery store.
Every year for her birthday, Faith would send her a card and a few pictures. They were always photos of beautiful scenery taken from places she'd been for the Council. In one of them, there's a silhouette in a Savannah sunset, and just by the way the person's standing, I know it's her. I got those pictures framed and hung them up in Teresa's room.
When Terry turned three, there was a teddy bear waiting for her in the mail. It was a small bear, with dark brown fur, dark green eyes and soft brown velvet under padding. Just gorgeous. I laid eyes on that thing and promised myself to never keep Faith a secret form Terry.
I explained it as I thought a three year old would understand, and when I was done, Ter just looked at me with her little brow furrowed. But she accepted it like it was normal to have two mothers. The only thing she asked me after that was "But where's Daddy?" A question I never knew how to answer and a question that she would never stop asking.
That bear had made me so happy. Teresa carried that thing everywhere. Little did I know my heart would break only a year later.
"Terry! Come say goodbye! Aunt Dawn and Uncle Andy are leaving!"
Teresa had just discovered the joys and wonders of wool socks on hardwood floors, and had been slip and sliding everywhere in the house since dinner.
"You know, if she gets hurt, I'll never forgive you for teaching her that." I told Andrew with a smile.
Andy smirked and nodded.
"Sure." He said, shrugging into the sleeves of his coat.
Dawn did the eye roll thing and zipped up her hoody.
"For God's sakes, Buffy. She was gonna learn that eventually. It's like a rite of passage or something."
Ter slid into the hall and jumped into my sister's arms.
"Bye Aunt Dawn!" She squealed, wrapping her little arms around Dawn's neck in a hug.
"Bye Honey. I'll see you soon." Dawn released her and Ter repeated the same little exchange with Andrew.
"How long are you staying in Bath?" I asked.
"Dunno. Probably a month or so. Andy's only staying a week though. We'll see what Giles needs us to do once we get there."
Andrew nodded.
"I'll stop by once I'm back." He said. "Are Spike and Xander staying till tomorrow?"
I smiled in acknowledgement and nodded. "Tell Giles I said Hi."
I gave them both a quick hug and they were out the door. Terry went back to sliding on the floors and Xander came out from the kitchen with a dishtowel on his shoulder.
"Hot Blooded wants to know where you keep your dish soap."
I chuckled and walked into the kitchen. Spike was at the sink with the hot water tap turned on and a pile of dirty supper plates to wash.
"Under the sink, Spike." I said.
He nodded gratefully, made a comment about it being "unthinkable to not have a dishwasher", and started to wash while Xander and I dried. When we were just about done, Terry came sliding into the kitchen, and I checked the clock.
"Teresa, guess what time it is?"
Terry gave me the pouty lip and her eyes beamed.
"Bedtime?" She whined softly. "But Mommy…"
Ah, four year olds. Way too smart for their age.
The pouty lip was just about to work its magic when Spike scooped her up, making her squeal.
"Let's go Sweet Pea. It seems your Uncle Spike is the only one immune to that bloody lip."
"Spike! Language!" I scolded.
He stopped in the middle of the staircase, placed Terry on his hip and gave me a full-blown smile.
"Right." He said. "Sorry."
"Sweet dreams, Pumpkin!" Xander called out from his spot at the kitchen table.
"G'night Uncle Al!"
"I'll be up in a few minutes, Ter." I said, taking the seat next to Xander.
"You know, I'm never going to forgive Spike for teaching her that. "Uncle Al", good god."
I rolled my eyes and a sigh escaped my lips.
"Hey. You okay?" He asked, gently laying a hand on my shoulder.
"Yeah. Just tired."
He gave me a smile and squeezed my shoulder a bit.
"You need to get out more, Buff." He started, never looking me in the eye. "Get back into the dating pool."
My eyes narrowed and I studied him for a few seconds. Africa had done wonders to Xander. He had toned down considerably, had a permanent tan, and had a smile painted on his face most of the time. But now, he seemed nervously calm as he started to play with an errant napkin.
"Xander," I started. "Just because I'm a single mother doesn't mean I need… I mean, I have needs but…" I trailed off in my babble as realization hit me square in the face.
"She's found someone hasn't she?" My voice was low and soft. I barely even recognized it.
He gave me a pained half smile before giving his head a nod.
I was sitting outside, on the back porch, smoking my last cigarette for the night when the screen door behind me opened and soft footsteps hit the newly made deck.
"Couldn't sleep, Baby?" I asked, exhaling a thread of smoke in the air.
"No."
Terry made her way over to me, and nestled herself into my arms. She was wearing her Millennium Falcon pj's, courtesy of Andrew. They were her favourites, even over the nice pink ones that I had gotten her. I guess flannel will do that.
I stubbed the Lucky Strike out in the ashtray and cradled her into my arms. We stayed like that for a long time before Terry broke the silence.
"I didn't like him." She said finally.
I gently laid my chin on the top of her head as we looked onto our backyard.
"Who? Dave?" I said.
"He's boring." She added.
I couldn't help but smile. Leave it to Baby T to say what's on her mind.
"When's Daddy coming home?" She asked suddenly.
You don't have one, Babe. What do you answer to that? Especially to a five year old? I stayed silent, letting her make up her own conclusions. Teresa shuffled in my arms, and turned her face to look at me.
Her eyes were moist with unshed tears and I caught my breath. She reached out with her arm and trailed her fingers over my eyes.
"When's Mommy coming home?" She asked, and I gasped.
I gasped. It was the first time she had asked me anything about Faith. Well apart from the "Who gave me Gaspar again, Mommy? I can't remember." and the "Is that Mommy? I look just like her." when she'd look at the picture of Faith and I on the mantle.
Teresa studied me for a few seconds before wrapping her arms around my neck in an embrace.
"Daisy said that her Daddy is coming home soon."
"She did, did she?" I said.
"Yep." She said, popping her "p". "And she said that their car is better than ours."
I chuckled and ruffled her hair. Anything is better than a rusty Dodge Neon, Babe.
"Well you can tell Daisy that our car is a nicer colour than theirs."
Teresa giggled and it made me smile.
"Okay. You go on up to bed. I'll be up in a few seconds."
Terry gave me a serious look, one that I had never seen before, before nodding and kissing me on the cheek.
"I love you, Mommy."
"Love you too, Babe."
And she scurried off inside, leaving me alone outside. I sighed and stared up at the sky. It was a nice warm night, and the sky was almost white with sparkling stars. Gingerly, I got up, and locked the door, and just bee lined for the cemetery. I didn't stop running until I got there, and then I stopped. I looked around and suddenly got irritated when I saw it was deserted. In a moment of repented rage and frustration, I kicked ina tombstone making it shatter into a million pieces, then slumped to the ground and succumbed to a crying fit.