Absence (G)
Posted: Mon Jan 19, 2009 5:17 am
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I own nothing but an insane obsession for all things Moonlight.
Absence
Beth looked up at the knock on her door.
“Mrs. St. John?” Her assistant, a young, animated brunette, poked her head in.
“Taylor, how many times have I asked you to call me Beth?”
“Sorry,” she corrected herself with an apologetic grin, “Beth, you have the ‘hold calls’ button lit on your phone and there’s a call for you from St. Vincent’s.”
Beth’s brow creased into a worried frown and, with a stab of a finger, released the illuminated button. “Send it through.” Her hand hovered over the receiver and she picked it up on the first ring.
*******************
Beth had phoned him several times but each time her call went directly to voice mail. Finally, she had grabbed her bag and headed for home. The ride seemed longer than usual and her fingers began to tap the wheel to a rhythm of impatience. Nothing’s wrong. If there were, he would have called me. Why hasn’t he called me? Relax, Beth, they’re fine.
She tried not to run from the elevator to the door. That would be reneging on the pact she made with herself in the car not to give in to panic, but the hand that held the key continued to shake no matter how many promises she’d made. She listened for any noise as she entered the apartment.
It was dim, the window blinds closed but that was as she would expect. What she didn’t expect was the patchwork of blankets suspended in mid-air, tied to a chair and stretched across, weighted down by books on several surfaces. A faint giggle drifted to her from underneath one of the makeshift canopies. It was followed by a soft ‘sshhh’ which had the opposite affect then intended. This time the bout was quickly smothered but a few curls of laughter escaped.
Beth’s hand found her heart as her shoulders sagged in relief and her lips responded in kind to the enchanting sound. Careful to be silent, she lowered her bag to the floor and crouched down as she circled around the sofa and searched for an opening to the improvised tent. Rounding the corner she met a dog-eared flap which hid her quarry from view but the hushed, excited whispers within were a beacon. Beth grabbed the edge, lifted and lunged with mock ferocity at the two huddled together, eagerly awaiting her entrance. Squeals of simulated horror were her reward and the three collapsed in a heap of arms and mirth.
“Mommy!” Small, chubby arms found their way around her neck and she gathered the cherished form to her chest, releasing the last of her anxiety into the soft, chestnut hair brushing her cheek.
“Hey, Sweetie.” Beth’s hands framed the small heart shaped face and she placed a kiss on her daughter’s nose.
“Did you come to have lunch with us? Uncle Josef’s coming. We’re going to have a party. It’s his fifth annimercy.”
“Is that so? Daddy didn’t tell me. Daddy forgets to tell me a lot of things.” She finished with a pointed look at Mick who returned it with a wounded moue.
“You didn’t tell her, Daddy?” The face she turned to her father was a carbon of her mother’s, a miniature study in exasperation. “Daddyyyyyyy!”
“No fair. I never win when you two gang up on me.” Mick swiped playfully at his daughter’s nose and leaned in to give Beth a kiss. “Why am I in trouble this time?” he asked only half jokingly. “I swear I was going to call you to ask you to come home for lunch.” He raised his arm in swear fashion. “Wasn’t I Artie?” He looked to the chuckling five year old for affirmation.
When she didn’t confirm his declaration, he began to poke at her sides prompting her to speak up on his behalf. Artie sucked in her lips, the universal childspeak for ‘not talking’.
“Okay, be that way you trouble maker.”
Beth rolled her eyes and winked at her daughter who winked back, pleased to be a co-conspirator.
“So, whose idea was it to play hookie today?” Both females looked to Mick simultaneously.
“Guilty.” He hung his head, his chin bouncing on his chest.
“And who forgot to call St. Vincent’s to report the absence? And then left his phone off?”
Mick’s head snapped up as comprehension dawned, his mouth forming a silent ‘O’.
“Beth. That’s why you came home. I’m so sorry. I…”
She couldn’t help but relent in the face of his repentance.
“Forget it. Looks like I would have been coming home early anyway.” Beth shifted her position, sitting Indian style, an open invitation for Artie to sit in her lap. “So what fifth anniversary are we celebrating?”
“That would be the anniversary of my first introduction to Miss Artemis,” came a self-satisfied voice from the doorway.
“Uncle Josef! Uncle Josef’s here!” Artie leaped from her mother’s lap and made a bee-line for the vampire who unapologetically showered her with affection.
With her daughter’s attention elsewhere, Beth turned to Mick, confused. “Anniversary?”
Mick smiled at her expression. “Josef didn’t get to meet Artie until after the adoption was final, remember? I guess he was more anxious then we realized. He marked the day on his calendar. Apparently, it was five years ago to the day which would make today the fifth anniversary.”
Beth nodded slowly, clearly not sure what to make of Josef’s enthusiasm.
Two sets of legs, one clad in dark denim and the other in pink cotton, could be seen through the narrow gap in the blanket.
“Have you run out of games and resorted to re-enacting the Great Depression?”
“Come on.” Artie reappeared through the flap, pulling the appalled tycoon behind her. With a heavy sigh he climbed in to join them and leveled the younger vampire with a dark glare.
“What a great idea.”
Being ever helpful, Artie rushed to assure her uncle, “Daddy said we could have lunch under here because it’s your favorite.”
“Did he?”
Although Mick covered his mouth to hide his smile his eyes danced with mischievous glee.
“Why is it your favorite, Uncle Josef?”
“Yeah, Josef, why is it your favorite?”
Beth was sure Josef was going to let loose a cutting reply or murder her husband on the spot for Mick’s persistent experiment in how far Josef could be pushed in his adoration of Artie, but the apple of his eye chose that moment to turn and lay her hand on his cheek.
Josef’s smile was pained but his voice was steady as he replied, “Because I know you like it, sweet pea.”
The 5 year old’s face lit up. With all the wisdom of one who has just discovered the advantages of sharing, she announced that it could be both their favorite.
All three adults laughed at her proclamation and Artie sat in Josef’s lap, content as any child could be that she was well loved by the adults surrounding her.
Beth looked from the vampire holding her daughter to the vampire she married. They were both focused on the tiny ingénue, enthralled by the story she was weaving about a princess who had to save a prince. Josef was nodding but Mick was shaking his head. Beth smiled. Hers was the oddest family she could ever have imagined.
As if sensing her thoughts, Mick covered her hand and gave it a light squeeze. When she looked at him she was surprised to see that his gaze was unfocused, his eyes moist. Scooting closer she laid her head on his shoulder and rested her palm over his heart. She didn’t need to ask. His thoughts were her own. Family’s not only about DNA. No. Family was about acceptance. About life. About love. And they had it all.
Absence
Beth looked up at the knock on her door.
“Mrs. St. John?” Her assistant, a young, animated brunette, poked her head in.
“Taylor, how many times have I asked you to call me Beth?”
“Sorry,” she corrected herself with an apologetic grin, “Beth, you have the ‘hold calls’ button lit on your phone and there’s a call for you from St. Vincent’s.”
Beth’s brow creased into a worried frown and, with a stab of a finger, released the illuminated button. “Send it through.” Her hand hovered over the receiver and she picked it up on the first ring.
*******************
Beth had phoned him several times but each time her call went directly to voice mail. Finally, she had grabbed her bag and headed for home. The ride seemed longer than usual and her fingers began to tap the wheel to a rhythm of impatience. Nothing’s wrong. If there were, he would have called me. Why hasn’t he called me? Relax, Beth, they’re fine.
She tried not to run from the elevator to the door. That would be reneging on the pact she made with herself in the car not to give in to panic, but the hand that held the key continued to shake no matter how many promises she’d made. She listened for any noise as she entered the apartment.
It was dim, the window blinds closed but that was as she would expect. What she didn’t expect was the patchwork of blankets suspended in mid-air, tied to a chair and stretched across, weighted down by books on several surfaces. A faint giggle drifted to her from underneath one of the makeshift canopies. It was followed by a soft ‘sshhh’ which had the opposite affect then intended. This time the bout was quickly smothered but a few curls of laughter escaped.
Beth’s hand found her heart as her shoulders sagged in relief and her lips responded in kind to the enchanting sound. Careful to be silent, she lowered her bag to the floor and crouched down as she circled around the sofa and searched for an opening to the improvised tent. Rounding the corner she met a dog-eared flap which hid her quarry from view but the hushed, excited whispers within were a beacon. Beth grabbed the edge, lifted and lunged with mock ferocity at the two huddled together, eagerly awaiting her entrance. Squeals of simulated horror were her reward and the three collapsed in a heap of arms and mirth.
“Mommy!” Small, chubby arms found their way around her neck and she gathered the cherished form to her chest, releasing the last of her anxiety into the soft, chestnut hair brushing her cheek.
“Hey, Sweetie.” Beth’s hands framed the small heart shaped face and she placed a kiss on her daughter’s nose.
“Did you come to have lunch with us? Uncle Josef’s coming. We’re going to have a party. It’s his fifth annimercy.”
“Is that so? Daddy didn’t tell me. Daddy forgets to tell me a lot of things.” She finished with a pointed look at Mick who returned it with a wounded moue.
“You didn’t tell her, Daddy?” The face she turned to her father was a carbon of her mother’s, a miniature study in exasperation. “Daddyyyyyyy!”
“No fair. I never win when you two gang up on me.” Mick swiped playfully at his daughter’s nose and leaned in to give Beth a kiss. “Why am I in trouble this time?” he asked only half jokingly. “I swear I was going to call you to ask you to come home for lunch.” He raised his arm in swear fashion. “Wasn’t I Artie?” He looked to the chuckling five year old for affirmation.
When she didn’t confirm his declaration, he began to poke at her sides prompting her to speak up on his behalf. Artie sucked in her lips, the universal childspeak for ‘not talking’.
“Okay, be that way you trouble maker.”
Beth rolled her eyes and winked at her daughter who winked back, pleased to be a co-conspirator.
“So, whose idea was it to play hookie today?” Both females looked to Mick simultaneously.
“Guilty.” He hung his head, his chin bouncing on his chest.
“And who forgot to call St. Vincent’s to report the absence? And then left his phone off?”
Mick’s head snapped up as comprehension dawned, his mouth forming a silent ‘O’.
“Beth. That’s why you came home. I’m so sorry. I…”
She couldn’t help but relent in the face of his repentance.
“Forget it. Looks like I would have been coming home early anyway.” Beth shifted her position, sitting Indian style, an open invitation for Artie to sit in her lap. “So what fifth anniversary are we celebrating?”
“That would be the anniversary of my first introduction to Miss Artemis,” came a self-satisfied voice from the doorway.
“Uncle Josef! Uncle Josef’s here!” Artie leaped from her mother’s lap and made a bee-line for the vampire who unapologetically showered her with affection.
With her daughter’s attention elsewhere, Beth turned to Mick, confused. “Anniversary?”
Mick smiled at her expression. “Josef didn’t get to meet Artie until after the adoption was final, remember? I guess he was more anxious then we realized. He marked the day on his calendar. Apparently, it was five years ago to the day which would make today the fifth anniversary.”
Beth nodded slowly, clearly not sure what to make of Josef’s enthusiasm.
Two sets of legs, one clad in dark denim and the other in pink cotton, could be seen through the narrow gap in the blanket.
“Have you run out of games and resorted to re-enacting the Great Depression?”
“Come on.” Artie reappeared through the flap, pulling the appalled tycoon behind her. With a heavy sigh he climbed in to join them and leveled the younger vampire with a dark glare.
“What a great idea.”
Being ever helpful, Artie rushed to assure her uncle, “Daddy said we could have lunch under here because it’s your favorite.”
“Did he?”
Although Mick covered his mouth to hide his smile his eyes danced with mischievous glee.
“Why is it your favorite, Uncle Josef?”
“Yeah, Josef, why is it your favorite?”
Beth was sure Josef was going to let loose a cutting reply or murder her husband on the spot for Mick’s persistent experiment in how far Josef could be pushed in his adoration of Artie, but the apple of his eye chose that moment to turn and lay her hand on his cheek.
Josef’s smile was pained but his voice was steady as he replied, “Because I know you like it, sweet pea.”
The 5 year old’s face lit up. With all the wisdom of one who has just discovered the advantages of sharing, she announced that it could be both their favorite.
All three adults laughed at her proclamation and Artie sat in Josef’s lap, content as any child could be that she was well loved by the adults surrounding her.
Beth looked from the vampire holding her daughter to the vampire she married. They were both focused on the tiny ingénue, enthralled by the story she was weaving about a princess who had to save a prince. Josef was nodding but Mick was shaking his head. Beth smiled. Hers was the oddest family she could ever have imagined.
As if sensing her thoughts, Mick covered her hand and gave it a light squeeze. When she looked at him she was surprised to see that his gaze was unfocused, his eyes moist. Scooting closer she laid her head on his shoulder and rested her palm over his heart. She didn’t need to ask. His thoughts were her own. Family’s not only about DNA. No. Family was about acceptance. About life. About love. And they had it all.