Escaping the Pyre, Part 2
by Jayel
Devon had felt ridiculous, sending the children to fetch John that way, as if he were an errant child himself, but she hadn't known what else to do. And as the day progressed, she found herself feeling less guilty and more irritated--what was he doing out there in the middle of nowhere while everyone else was trying to pack up and get moving? More specifically, what was he doing out in there in the middle of nowhere with Tara Donahoe--and there she stopped and felt ridiculous again. Obviously John could escape camp to find a bit of privacy with anyone he chose, and she should have nothing to say about it. Certainly she had no real interest in what he and Tara might have had to say to one another that couldn't be overheard by the rest of the group- -John's private affairs were just that, private, and none of her business whatsoever. But making sure everyone pulled their weight, particularly in the mornings when things were so hectic, was her business, and she felt compelled by duty to mention to him that his timing needed a little work.
She waited until after they had stopped for the night and everyone else was busy making camp to approach him. He had just finished hauling the last of the tents from the back of the transrover and was securing the truck for the night, so he didn't hear her approach until she was standing right behind him. "Danziger," she began, startling him so badly he slammed the transrover's hatch on his hand.
After a few choice oaths and a dirty look, he managed to choke out, "Yes?"
"Oh, John, I'm so sorry," she stammered, blushing red. "Are you--? Here, let me see--"
"I'm fine, Mom," he teased, smiling at her, making her blush even harder. Devon took such pride in being on top of everything, he couldn't help but enjoy watching her lose her composure, even if it meant bruised knuckles. And actually, he had to admit he thought she was pretty cute. "Was there something you wanted? Or are you just checking my reflexes?"
"No," she demurred, smiling back in spite of her embarrassment. "I mean, yes--I did want to talk to you about something."
"Okay," he said amiably, offering her a seat on the bumper. "What's up? Is Uly giving you a hard time about taking a bath again?"
"No, I think whatever you said to him last time made a permanent impression," she said, trying to regain her righteous indignation. "Danziger, it's about this morning . . . I don't know what you and Tara were doing up there, but we wasted a lot of time looking for you that should have been spent--"
"And my first question has got to be why," he interrupted, stung and righteously indignant on his own behalf. "Can't you people tie your own shoelaces in the mornings without me here to tell you how to do it? I know it's a mechanical operation, Adair, but even you should have worked it out by now." Oh, now that's fair, he thought to himself. Calm down, Danziger--just because you're embarrassed about the VR thing is no reason to hurt Devon's feelings.
"Yes, I think I can manage shoelaces just perfectly on my own," Devon shot back, trying not to remember the trouble she had had getting True and Uly dressed. "But you insist on making these vehicles your personal mission in life, so consequently we need you when we're ready to pack--"
"Did we or did we not leave at the exact same time this morning as we do every morning?" he interrupted again.
"Yes, but that's not the point--"
"So what is the point?"
Good question, Devon thought glumly. He made her so furious, not letting her get a word in edgewise and cutting her off and being so . . . blunt, she supposed was the word, but not really. She was a planner--the Eden Project was proof enough for anyone that she thought things through and approached problems in logical phases, addressing each individual issue in its turn, weighing all possible points of view as she went along. But Danziger always insisted on cutting to the chase; oblique reasoning was entirely lost on him. "I need you," she heard herself say without ever actually planning to say it. "In the mornings, with the kids--I'm just not strong enough yet to get them moving in the right direction by myself--It's not their fault; they're just so full of energy--"
"I know," he interrupted again, this time because he felt like such a heel. "Adair, I'm sorry--"
"No, you're right; I do depend on you too much," she cut him off. Why was hearing the slightest note of tenderness in his voice so frightening? Her heart was actually pounding in her chest--surely he could hear it. "It's just that you're so easy to depend on," she finished, forcing herself to look up into his eyes.
Now it was Danziger's turn to if not blush, at least feel a little warm in the face. "I don't mind," he said gruffly, looking away from what he was afraid he might see in her eyes. "And you're right, Adair, you are taking on too much too soon--"
"Dad!" Projection would never be a problem for True--her voice was perfectly distinct and her impatience perfectly obvious even from fifty feet away.
"Over here, True," Devon called back, getting to her feet, halfrelieved at the interruption.
"Dad, Tara sent me to find you," True said, coming up to her father and barely sparing Devon a glance. "I left her in our tent--"
"Tell her I'll be there in a minute," Danziger cut her off. Now what, he grumbled in his head, mentally kicking himself for being embarrassed.
"She said for me not to come back without you," True persisted.
"Sounds like something important," Devon said brightly, trying not to even begin to speculate what the other woman could so urgently want. "You'd better hurry."
"I doubt it," John said. "Listen, Adair--"
"Daddy, come on," True interrupted in an uncharacteristic whine. "Let's go."
"Hey, that's enough," John said, giving her a sharp look. "Adair--" But Devon was gone, slipping into one of the tents nearby. "What's gotten into you, True-girl?" he demanded. "That's was rude--"
"So?" True retorted petulantly.
"So maybe you owe Adair an apology," John said, for the moment more mystified than angry. True hadn't behaved this badly in months, and she and Devon had been getting along beautifully, or so it had seemed to him. She had certainly been glad when Devon had come out of cold sleep all right, and in fact had seemed to go out of her way to be closer to the woman, taking her into her confidence and even allowing her to . . . the only phrase that seemed appropriate was "play mom."
"So I'll apologize," True said grudgingly, dragging him through the middle of camp toward their tent. "But Dad, you've got to come see this thing."
"What thing?" he asked.
"This VR program Tara's done," she continued, looking up at him with shining eyes.
For a moment, his brain wouldn't focus on what she meant. "Wait a second," he said, the harbingers of a red and buzzing rage threatening his emotional horizon. "What VR--"
"The VR program of Mom," True explained. "Dad, she is so beautiful--"
"Tara showed it to you?" he interrupted, struggling to keep his voice even.
"Yes," True admitted slowly. She hadn't lived so long in her father's exclusive company without learning to gauge when he was upset. "Daddy, don't be mad, please," she begged. "I asked her what she was doing, and when she told me, I just wanted to peek--"
"Tara can explain all of that to me," he cut her off, not trusting himself to listen to any more without exploding and suddenly in a terrible hurry to go wring Tara Donahoe's neck. "You go find Adair and tell her you're sorry--"
"But Dad, I want to see--"
"True, I said go--"
"No!" This stopped him short, and True felt all the blood drain from her cheeks in a cold rush at the fury in his blue eyes as he glared at her. "Why should I apologize to Devon, anyway?" she went on bravely. "I didn't do anything wrong. You're my dad, and I needed you--"
"True," he began, trying to listen calmly like he knew as a father he was supposed to no matter how much he wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled in her adorable blonde head.
"And Devon Adair is not my mother!" True finished with a shriek that brought curious glances from several members of the Eden Project who were still setting up camp around them.
"No one is suggesting that she is," John answered grimly, lifting his daughter off her feet and carrying her back toward the transrover.
True thought he would say more once they were out of earshot of everyone else, but he was silent as the grave. "Daddy, I'm sorry," she said tearfully, holding on tight. "I like Devon, a lot, really--"
"We'll talk about it later," he said brusquely. Part of him wanted to kiss her and tell her all was forgiven, but . . . well, True had definitely inherited her mother's talent for finding his rawest nerve at the worst possible moment.
"I don't mean to be bad," she insisted. "But you guys, you and Devon, keep acting like--like Uly and I have turned into this unit, this two-headed monster called the kids that belongs to both of you together, equally, and I hate it."
"True-girl, I said we'd talk about it later," he said, setting her inside the truck. "Now stay here while I go talk to Tara--I mean it, True, stay here." He started to close the door, but the misery in her face was like a knife in his heart. "I know Devon isn't your mother," he said slowly without meeting her eyes. "And I don't want her to be any more than you do, believe me. But she is a friend . . . she cares . . . True, listen to me," he said, looking up suddenly and touching her cheek. "I wish I could give you your real mom back--I wish I could bring her back for both of us. But I can't." He stroked her hair tenderly. "And neither can Tara Donahoe."
"I know that, Daddy," she conceded. "But I think she's come pretty close."
***
Julia, meanwhile, was basking in what she privately called her "golden twilight." For a few short hours every night between the time they made camp until about an hour after they went to bed, she felt almost like herself again--no nausea, no phantom aches and pains. By sundown, even her posterior had begun to recover somewhat from the numbness of a day's bone-jarring ride in the rail.
Unfortunately, this was also the time of day the rest of Eden Advance usually chose to bring her their own little medical crises. But at least Morgan was entertaining.
"Julia, you have got to do something," he insisted, his eyes wild with desperation. "I have got to get some rest tonight, or--Why are you smiling?"
"Morgan, I'm sorry," she said, trying to suppress her amusement behind a mask of professionalism. "But I can't help wondering what exactly you want me to do."
"Make her slow down, for pity's sake," he retorted.
"You want me to tell Bess not to have sex?" she asked. "I can't--"
"No!" he shouted, then glanced at the doorway in embarrassment. "Not that she shouldn't have sex at all," he continued more softly. "Just that she shouldn't have sex EVERY WAKING MINUTE. Ha, did I say waking? No, she doesn't even have to be awake--or I don't--Julia . . ." He caught hold of her hand as if in supplication. "Julia, please. I mean, look at me! I'm a wreck!"
"Morgan, it's all right," Julia soothed, trying not to smile and failing sadly. "Really, I checked you out, and other than being a little tired, you seem just fine--"
"Today I seem just fine," he retorted. "Next week, I'll seem just dead."
"Don't be so melodramatic," she scolded. "Bess' body is going through a series of perfectly natural hormonal changes, but if she's become . . . too much for you, then I can only suggest that you say no once in a while."
"Say no," he repeated, deadpan. "Sure, no problem. Pardon me for saying so, Dr. Heller, but you're obviously a woman."
"Thanks," Julia answered with a grin as Alonzo came in.
"Hey guys," Alonzo said. "What's going on?"
"Morgan here has just decided that I am, tragically, a woman," Julia explained.
"Hey, you're good," Alonzo teased. "What gave her away?"
"Very funny," Morgan retorted, making his exit. "Laugh now, flyboy. Next month, you may not have the energy."
"What's with him?" Alonzo asked, watching him go.
"He's a bit cranky," Julia explained, putting her glove away. "Not enough rest--Bess has been keeping him up nights."
"Up or up?" Alonzo joked. "Yeah, I heard--or rather, Magus and Wolman heard. They've been trying to sleep in the tent next to the Martin's." He came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. "So what was he suggesting--that it's only a matter of time before you become a sex fiend, too?"
"As strange as that may sound just now, yes, that's exactly what he was suggesting," she answered, slumping back into his embrace. This was almost the only comfortable position she had found since her pregnancy started showing--leaning against Alonzo and letting him help hold little Valentine up.
"I can't wait," he said, kissing the back of her neck.
"You just can't wait for me to stop throwing up all the time," she retorted.
"That will be a nice fringe benefit, I have to admit," he teased. "So tell me, Doc, when will we know?"
"Know what?" she asked, turning to him.
"Know whether it's a boy or a girl," he explained with a grin.
"Actually, we could know right now if we really wanted to," she answered. "I just haven't done the test--I guess I want Valentine to be a mystery for a little while longer--it's hard enough for me to picture the two of us as parents at all."
"Why is that so hard?" he asked, drawing her down beside him on the only bench in the tent with a back support.
"I don't know," she shrugged, wondering why on earth she had ever brought this up. "I'm a doctor, totally committed to my work, and you're a pilot, totally in love with flying. How are we ever going to find time to rear a child, boy or girl?"
"We'll make time," he assured her with a kiss.
"Yeah," she agreed with a smile, sliding her arms up around his neck and kissing him back. "Hey, 'Lonzo," she said softly as he moved to kiss her throat.
"Yeah, Doc?" he laughed without looking up.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Isn't it a little late to ask that now?" he joked.
"No, I'm serious . . . about the baby, I mean," she said, making him look at her. "Are you sure you're happy?"
His eyes widened, and his signature grin broke out all over his face. "No, I'm just faking," he said sarcastically. "Yes, Doc . . . yes, I am completely, totally, incredibly happy about the baby." He kissed her. "And about you." He kissed her again. "And about us . . ."
"Good," she said with a most un-doctor-like giggle, snuggling close again.
"As a matter of fact," he began. "I was wondering what you'd think about--"
"Julia, could I talk to you, please?" Devon interrupted, coming in unannounced as usual.
Only Julia's genetic skewing against violence coupled with her Hippocratic oath kept her from flinging something big and heavy at her friend's red head. "Sure, Devon, why not?" she said, extricating herself from Alonzo's arms. "After all, this is the medtent, and I am the doctor, so what could I possibly need with five minutes of privacy? Alonzo and I would probably pine away from sheer loneliness if someone didn't come barging in every minute of the day and night."
"Hey, Doc, it's okay," Alonzo said, feeling strangely relieved in the midst of his disappointment. If he hadn't asked the big question, Julia couldn't say no, so technically Devon had given him a few more hours of hope. And worry. "I'll go see which watch I have tonight."
"I'll take your watch," Devon said quickly. "But Julia, I'd really like to talk to you now.
End of Part 2
Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Jani, Rosa, and "Dr. Hellar" for their suggestions, questions and comments. You're really helping steer this one in the right direction.
Chapter End Notes:
Nothing much to say except here it is--a couple of people have wondered just how long this thing is going to be, and I only wish I could tell them. The game plan as of right now is for five parts of which this is the third. Comments, questions, suggestions and even full-blown abuse are welcome as always.
Thanks!
Jayel
Thanks!
Jayel