"Rex still has a bit of a temper issue," a voice behind him said. He should have expected her to show up here. He turned to see Natalie sitting on the bench behind him, looking thoughtfully at the building.
"Rex has a bit of a me issue," he said.
"Well that doesn't help," she nodded. "You know having the two of you at each others' throats isn't gonna help Kayla."
"Tell him that," he grumbled sullenly.
"I tried," she said sadly, "but he doesn't listen to me very much these days." She sighed. "Listen, about what he said-"
"He said a lot."
"What he said about me," she said, "the way he phrased that it sounded like he blamed you-"
"He blames me for a lot," he said sitting down beside her and resting his head in his hands. "Especially where you're concerned. And for the most part he's right."
"Okay," she sighed, "but in the interests of keeping your ego in check, I just want to remind you that you do not have the ability to control cancer cells."
"I do know that," he said, "I think Rex knows that."
"You also can't control your daughter."
"Thank you," he groaned, "I've noticed that."
"The more you try," she said, "the more authoritative and forceful you become, you're just going to make it worse. She's just going to do the exact opposite of what you tell her."
"So what do I do?" he asked, "Am I supposed to just let her run around and do whatever she wants?"
"Obviously not," she said, "but you could try… oh I don't know, talking to the girl."
"Brilliant," he said sarcastically, "why didn't I think of that?"
"I don't know," she said unphased by his tone. "So are you gonna stand out on the sidewalk or are you actually gonna go inside?"
In answer to her question he rose defiantly and walked into the station. He was hit by a sudden feeling vertigo; the station had been renovated. Nothing seemed to be where it should be—it was almost metaphorical. He looked into the space that he was fairly certain had once been his office, but it had been converted into a smallish conference room. If only the past was like that—if only it could be wiped out and remodeled and put to better use.
He felt the sting of Jessica's slap before he could even process that she'd walked into his office. As he recovered she spat at him, "I just picked your wife up at the hospital. If you even give a damn."
He looked at her stunned, "I didn't realize she was getting out today. No one called me."
She snorted, "I wonder why."
"Where is she now?"
"She's at home," Jessica said glaring at him, "Rex is sitting with her. Kayla's at Llanfair with my mother."
"How is she?" he asked.
Jessica shook her head and pursed her lips. "If you really cared you wouldn't be asking me, you'd be with her. Where she needs you."
"John?" a voice said.
He looked at the older man for a moment before it registered who it was. "Bo," he said, "I thought you'd retired."
"I did," he said with a smile as he slapped John on the back in a half hug, "just here doing some consulting work. Seems my skills are unreplaceable."
"Well I can't imagine this place without you," John said truthfully.
"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively, "It's good to see you. How you doing?"
"I'm okay," he said.
Bo looked at him skeptically. "Well there's definitely more grey in your hair than the last time I saw you so I guess I don't have to ask how you like raising a teenager."
He sighed. "Yeah, it's… harder than I ever imagined."
"So's Kayla here with you?"
"She's here," he said. "Not exactly with me. She's kinda the reason for this whole unplanned trip. She uh… decided to make an unscheduled visit to her Uncle Rex without telling me first."
Bo grimaced sympathetically. "Well at least there are worse places she could've run. I know she and Rex are close."
"Yeah," he said, "I just wish… I mean she talks to him-- I just wish she'd talk to me."
"Well Rex has an unfair advantage," Bo pointed out. "He gets to be the cool uncle, doesn't have to tell her 'no' doesn't have to make her do her homework-"
"Tell her she can't pierce her nose or date a twenty-three year old," John added.
"Basically," Bo said, "Twenty-three?"
John nodded. "I just wish she'd listen, you know. It's not like I set rules for her just to ruin her social life. I'm trying to help her."
"Just out of curiosity," Bo said giving him a sideways glance, "you ever get that logic to work on her mother?"
"No," he said managing half a smile as he shook his head. "And then we have a fight yesterday morning so she takes off, hitchhikes here—she could have gotten herself killed-"
"She's impulsive," Bo said, "she gets that from Natalie."
"Yeah," he said, "but at least with Natalie I always knew what she was thinking, what she was feeling. She'd let me know. She might scream it at me, but she'd tell me. Kayla just shuts down, keeps it all in."
"That," Bo said with a gentle smile, "she gets from you."
"I know," he admitted, "I think that's part of why it's so frustrating, you know. I of all people should know how to get through to her, but I can't."
"Well what did it take for you?" he asked.
"Natalie," he said, "and therapy."
Bo thought this over for a moment. "Well did you ever think about getting her some help. I mean I don't think she's that bad but she's been through a lot for a kid her age with her mother's illness and-"
"She had counseling," John said softly, "for about a year after her mother died and a little bit before. Natalie set it all up. You know that's what she did she knew she wouldn't be here so she wanted to make sure everything was taken care of for Kayla."
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something," she said in a low voice.
"Okay," he said.
She took a step away not looking at him, "I think Kayla should move in with you before the end of the summer."
"What?" he asked in surprise.
"If we move her during the summer it'll be easier," she continued, "she won't have to move schools in the middle of the year."
He stared at her for a moment. He couldn't understand what was going on, why wouldn't she look him in the eyes? "Not that I'd mind having more time with her," he said, "but I thought we agreed a long time ago that she was better off with you."
Natalie took a deep breath and looked up at him. He could see fear in her eyes. "John," she said in a steady voice, "by the end of the next school year that's not going to be an option. She's not going to be going back and forth between two parents' houses. You understand that, right?"
No he didn't understand that. And he couldn't accept that. It wasn't possible, there would be some kind of miracle between now and then and she would recover. He knew what she was trying to tell him and what she'd been trying to tell him for months now and what Michael had been telling him, but they were wrong. They had to be. "Natalie-" he finally managed to protest weakly but she cut him off.
"John, it's gonna be hard on her no matter what. This way, at least the transition will be easier."
"I'll tell you what," he said, "I'll get a place here in town. I'll move back here and she can stay with me and-"
"You can't just move back here out of the blue," she said with a sad smile.
"Of course I can," he said, "if you want to make things easier on Kayla-"
"John," she insisted, "you can't move back to Llanview to be close to me. I won't be here much longer."
Suddenly he wanted to retch and felt short of breath. "Please don't give up." He wasn't sure whether he actually said the words aloud.
Natalie looked at him a moment as if she was deciding whether to argue with him or not. Finally she said, "I'm not curling up into a ball just yet. That's actually another reason I think Kayla should stay with you. There's a hospital in Philadelphia that's doing some experimental treatments. Figured I'd give it one last shot."
"Lot of good it did once she left me in charge," he said running his hand through his hair.
"John," Bo said, "I'm a father so I know it isn't easy to see outside of this and get some perspective, but Kayla's a good kid, which means you're a good father. And I'm sure you've made some mistakes, because we all do. And Kayla's gonna do crazy things 'cause she's a teenager and that's what they do. So don't sit here torturing yourself thinking you let Natalie down somehow. 'Cause I don't think she'd see it that way."
He was crossing Angel Square when he saw them at a distance. They were sitting on a park bench; Kayla was staring at the ground while Rex talked to her in an animated manner. He couldn't hear what they were saying and he stood there for a moment debating whether he should walk to them or walk away and let them talk. His decision was made for him a moment later when Kayla glanced up and caught sight of him. She glared at him, daring him to come closer. Sometimes it was chilling how much she looked like her mother.
She stood up as though she were about to run again but Rex grabbed her hand. Tugging slightly to free her arm she continued glaring at her father.
"McBain…" Rex groaned in irritation.
"Sorry," he said, "I honestly wasn't looking for you, I was just- look, I'm here—maybe we can-"
"I don't want you here," she growled.
"What are you going to do?" he asked. "Run further away to where you don't know anyone? Leave everyone you care about behind just 'cause you're mad at me?"
"Maybe," she said her glare not wavering. She didn't mean it, he could tell. She was trying to bait him. And it was working. She knew how to push his buttons better than anyone since Natalie.
He took a deep breath to hold back the words that were trying to form in his mouth. The ones that told her she didn't know what she was doing, that she was too young to think clearly. Instead he said, "Why don't we just sit down and talk this over?"
"Oh you want to talk?" she scoffed, "That's rich."
"What do you mean?"
"You never talk," she said.
"I talk all the time," he insisted, "what do you-?"
"Asking me how school was when you only halfway listen to the answer or yelling 'dinner's ready' doesn't count as talking," she said, "You never really talk. About anything."
Was it true? He thought he'd come so far. "Well I will now," he offered, "what do you want to talk about?"
Kayla tucked her hair behind her ears as she hesitated. The normally auburn color was streaked with fluorescent pink which he suspected she'd added just to irritate him. She saw him looking at it, "It could have been worse. I was gonna do rainbow colors."
He smiled slightly. "It's a good color on you. I was just thinking…"
"What?" she asked.
"You remember that wig your mother had?"
Natalie answered the door wearing a flowing fluorescent pink wig. He held back a laugh but she caught the amusement in his expression. "Your daughter," she explained, "she picked it out."
"It looks… nice," he lied.
"I'm glad you think so. Kayla tells me it makes me look like Princess… something or other off some cartoon, which tells me Starr really is letting her watch too much TV. Anyway, I have a normal one too to wear to work, and more scarves than I'll ever wear, but I figure, 'hey, someone should have fun with this.'"
"It wasn't quite her color, was it?" Kayla said.
"We'll just say even I can tell you look better in it than she did," he said.
"Why did she wear it?" Kayla asked.
"Because she wanted to make you happy," he said.
Kayla's look softened for a moment but she quickly shook her head. "No. Don't pull the Mom Card."
"I wasn't trying…" he fumbled for words, "you wanted to talk.
"Too late," she said, "I don't want to talk to you."
"Then what do you-?"
Kayla crossed her arms and set her jaw resolutely. "I want to talk to Mom," she said defiantly. That was her way of saying she wanted to visit her mother's grave. Part of him wanted to tell her that Natalie wasn't there. She was in their old room, on the roof top, at the police station, Rodi's… but she wasn't in that cemetery.
But if going there made Kayla feel closer to her mother how could he take that away from her?
He nodded. "Okay. You want me to drive you there."
She shook her head quickly. "I'd rather you not be there."
He started to protest but Rex stopped him with a look. "You want me to take you?" he asked. She nodded. And he moved to slide out of the booth. Turning to John he said, "We'll call you in a little bit."
He wasn't happy this resolution, but he knew arguing would only make Kayla build those walls up higher. He'd done it enough times himself.
If he closed his eyes and listened he could almost strip the years away. He could hear the crisp cracking of balls at the pool table and her triumphant giggle as she made the shot yet again. He could smell her perfume mingled with the aromas of beer and grilling meat. He'd avoided Rodi's for the past four years, so why did he suddenly find himself back there tonight?
"Johnny?" Michael said in surprise coming up to him from behind. "I didn't know you were in town. You shoulda called."
"Sorry," he said, "it was kinda spur of the moment."
"Kayla here too?" he asked.
"She's with Rex," he said.
Michael raised his eyebrows. "Unchaperoned?"
John nodded. "She wanted to visit with her mother. Don't think she wanted me around."
Something crossed Michael's eyes. Sorrow… but with a heavy dose of regret. And sympathy that John knew he didn't deserve.
"Nothing happened, Johnny," Michael said, "You realize you are ripping your family apart for something that never even happened anywhere but in that twisted head of yours?"
"You got a place to stay? Sandy and the kids are out of town so we have plenty of room," Michael offered.
"I'm staying at Angel Square," he said, "I'm fine."
Suddenly two arms snaked around Michael's neck from behind and a blond woman purred in his ear, "Dr. McBain, I believe you owe me a drink."
Michael rolled his eyes at John before turning to the woman and saying, "Well, Dr. Manning why don't you just order yourself something and tell them to put it on my tab, okay?"
The woman started to walk away when she noticed John for the first time and threw her arms around him without warning. "John!" she exclaimed, "I didn't know you were here? Is Kayla here? I haven't seen her in forever!"
"Hey Starr," John choked out when it finally registered who she was. "Kayla's staying with Rex."
Starr put her hands on her hips and said, "And he didn't even tell me. That dork. So how is she?"
"Hard to say," he said grimly, "she's not really speaking to me."
"I wouldn't worry about it too much," Starr said, "she's fifteen. Remember what I was like at fifteen?"
"Didn't you arrest her when she was fifteen?" Michael asked his brother.
"I was sixteen when that happened, thank you very much," she said glaring back at him. "And just for the record, I'm still pissed about that."
"I let you off easy," John said with a shrug.
"And trust me," she said, "You're getting off easy with the teenager acting out thing."
"She's got a point," Michael said, "I mean you see at work everyday how much worse she could be."
"It's a rough age," Starr continued, "I mean your hormones are going crazy and so are everybody else in school's-"
"Can I tell you how much I don't want to talk about my daughter and hormones," John said.
"I'm just saying," she said with a smile, "she's a good kid. Especially considering… you know… her family situation."
She sighed wearily and let her arms drop to her sides. "I can't do this anymore, John."
"Do… what?" he asked.
"This," she said, "us. I can't fight anymore."
"I don't want to fight," he said sitting beside her.
"Neither do I," she said, "but we will. If you stay we'll just keep fighting. And we'll just keep hurting each other. We won't mean to, but we will. We always do. And I'll spend all my time either walking on eggshells because I don't want to upset you or lashing out at you and you'll disappear to go brood out in the night-"
"It doesn't have to be that way," he said softly.
"Maybe not," she said her eyes tearing up, "but it will. We both know it."
"So what are you saying?" he asked, his heart sinking.
"I'm saying it's time to cut our losses," she said, "it's time to end this before we destroy each other completely."
"Cut our losses?" he repeated in disbelief, "you want to just give up?"
She shook her head tearfully. "If it was just you and me I'd never give up. I'd fight for us till my dying breath. But Kayla's getting caught up in it-"
"You want a divorce," he said, translating her words.
"I don't think 'want' is the right word," she said, "but I think that's what we should do."
"And you don't think that's going to hurt Kayla?"
"I think the ship sailed a while ago on not hurting Kayla," she said, "but I think if we resolve this as quickly and cleanly as we can while she's in California it'll be less traumatic."
He studied her face for a long moment while she stared at her folded hands. "I know I can't talk you out of anything once your mind's made up," he said finally.
"You probably could," she admitted, "but I don't think it would be a good idea."
"Okay," he said softly, "maybe you're right. Fine."
She looked surprised; almost as if she'd expected him to argue. "Okay," she said nodding, "I'll talk to my mom's lawyer then and get the paperwork started."
"I guess there's no point in moving my stuff back in then," he said, fingering his duffle bag not missing the irony of the situation.
"I just wish I knew what to do," he said.
"You'll get through this and so will she," Starr said patting him on the shoulder, "now if you'll excuse me, I'm through with this drink and need to find someone to buy me another round." With a suggestive glance at Michael she made her way around the bar.
"What was that all about?" John asked, turning to his brother.
"Oh, I lost a bet. Loser had to buy the winner a drink," he said nonchalantly.
"What are you, having a midlife crisis?" John asked looking at the young woman at the bar.
Realization dawned on Michael and his eyes widened. "You thought- No! Seriously, John, she works for me."
"You apparently are the touchy feely kinda boss then," he said with a smile.
"Oh she's like that with everyone," Michael said with a wave of his hand, "especially when she's drinking."
"Okay," John said sounding unconvinced, though it was mostly just to harass his brother.
"I am a happily married man," Michael said indignantly
"You know, this is supposed to be a birthday party," Michael said walking up behind his brother.
"Huh?" John replied distractedly.
"You're brooding at your daughter's birthday party," he said, "it's bad form."
"I'm not-" John didn't finish his denial because he realized Michael was right. "Sorry, I overheard a discussion between Rex and Natalie that I don't think I was supposed to."
"About what?" Michael asked.
He hesitated. He didn't have any right to ask about this, but he couldn't quite pass up the opportunity either. "Is Natalie involved with anyone?"
"Not that I know of," Michael shrugged.
"You sure? Maybe someone she was involved with before?"
"I don't think so," he said, "I mean Natalie doesn't exactly keep me briefed on all the details of her life but those kind of things usually get around in this town."
"It's not Cristian, is it?"
Michael rolled his eyes, "Johnny, Natalie and Cristian have been over for a very long time. I don't think she has any intention of going back there."
"But then-" John's mind searched through every man he'd ever even seen Natalie so much as talk to, "think Michael, is there anyone-?"
"I'm not having this conversation with you," Michael said suddenly walking away.
John followed him. "What's your problem?"
"Did it occur to you while you were interrogating me about Natalie's love life that you haven't once asked about mine?" Michael said petulantly.
"Do you have a love life?" he pointed out.
"Well I do now," Michael said.
"Okay, Mikey, how's your love life?"
"I think I'm in love," Michael said solemnly.
"Again?" Ever since Marcie walked out on him six years earlier Michael had developed a tendency to become easily swept up in passing flirtations.
Michael glared at him, "It's for real this time."
John smiled indulgently, "Okay, so who is this girl?"
"She's a drug rep," Michael began.
"I thought you said drug reps were all sleazy," he said.
Michael let out a dreamy sigh. "Not her. I wish she were a little sleazy."
"Just making sure you remember that," John said. He sat there contemplating his beer for a few more minutes when his phone rang. Seeing Rex's number on the caller ID he put down some money to cover his drink as he made his way outside to answer.
"Dad?" a voice said tentatively on the other end.
"Kayla?" he said feeling relief at just hearing her voice.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, "I acted like a brat."
"It's okay," he said, "I've just been worried."
"I'm fine," she said.
"Did you-?"
"Yeah, we went to the cemetery," she said, "I… I think it helped."
"Can we talk?" he asked, "in person."
She paused for a moment. "I'm kinda tired. Can it wait till tomorrow?"
He didn't want to wait, but how do you tell a fifteen year old not to count on tomorrow?
"John, you have to let him go," she said softly, fingering the hospital blanket.
"He broke the law," he said trying with everything he had to stay calm, "he's a repeat offender. It's out of my hands."
"We both know that's not true," she said meeting his eyes. She was trembling. God, how could she be putting herself through this for that animal?
"Natalie," he said searching for something to say that would make her understand.
"It was an accident," she said the volume in her voice starting to climb, "a terrible, horrific stupid accident, but it was an accident. He didn't mean to-"
"Oh he never does, does he?" he snorted.
"He's sick," she said launching into the same speech he'd heard a thousand times, "He needs help. He-"
"He killed your child!" he finally spat out. "How can you of all people- He killed your child and you are still defending him. Do you realize that? Do you realize that our baby is dead?"
"Don't you dare!" she said fiercely, "I know. I know on a level you will never understand. That baby was inside of me. I felt him move; I felt his soul inside of me. And I felt him leave. I was there when he died and I was all by myself. I know what we've lost, but I also know that putting Cristian in jail isn't going to bring him back."
"That's not what I'm trying to do," he said lowering the volume of his voice and clenching his hands into fists.
Natalie paused and studied his face for a moment before saying in a shaky voice, "John, it's okay to be hurt. It's okay to be angry. It's normal."
"Thank you," he said feeling suddenly as though there were a weight on his chest, "but this is not about me being angry or hurt it's about getting a dangerous criminal off the streets before he does this to someone else."
She shook her head, "You know that isn't going to happen."
"I don't know that actually," he said.
"We need to talk about this John," she said.
"I thought that's what we were doing."
"Not about Cristian," she said fingering the blankets on her lap, "about the baby."
"I don't know what to say," he mumbled to the floor.
"Why can't you just admit who you're really mad at, John," she pleaded, "you don't blame Cristian for our baby's death. You blame me."
"Why would I blame you?" he asked, not wanting to believe he could.
" If I had listened to you and stayed away-"
"You don't need to do this now," he said, "you need to rest."
"Rest?" she scoffed, "I have a son in the morgue and a husband that won't look at me-- do you really think I can rest?"
The weight on his chest suddenly got heavier and his throat felt tight. "I can't do this right now," he said standing up.
"John," she said and he heard a sob rip through her throat as he headed out the door of her room and down the hall. He'd made it about fifty feet before he heard her call his name again, followed by his brother's voice telling her she needed to get back to bed. He turned to see her barefoot in a hospital gown hobbling towards him. Part of him wanted to run to her and take her in his arms, but his feet wouldn't move.
"John, please!" she called desperately as she collapsed on the ground, one arm still reaching towards him. Michael was at her side in an instant wrapping his arms around her, trying to help her up as she continued sobbing.
He started to go back, but Michael looked up at him for a moment, with a look of so much anger and disgust that he knew his continued presence would only make things worse. And so he turned around again and left the hospital. The horror of what he had done began to dawn on him as he drove home. He would fix this. But not tonight.
He knew first hand how dangerous it was to put off those conversations and yet why should a fifteen year old have to know that. There was no way he'd rest till this was settled, whatever it was, but if she was willing to talk to him he should be willing to make some concessions too. "Sure," he said, "give me a call?"
"Yeah," she said, "see you tomorrow."
"Love you," he said.
There was a moment of silence before he heard her hang up; as if she were trying to say something else but couldn't quite manage. 'There's irony for you,' he thought to himself. All those years he hadn't been able to say the words—it had never occurred to him how much it would hurt to have a teenager in his life with the same problem.
To be continued.