Rings Of Fire Ch 12

Lunch was delicious as always, but Lauren had trouble concentrating on the food. On the walk over she and Brent had decided to tell the girls together. Of course, she was never sure exactly how much Elise understood of such things. But perhaps that was a mixed blessing since Megan took the news particularly hard. In the end, she had understood far better than most teenagers would. She had though extracted Lauren's promise to come back to them as soon as she could.

She snuck a look at Brent as he talked with Elise about her pony. Of course, she was coming back here. Was it really less than seventy-two hours ago that she had stood in her office trying to memorize it? It all seemed so meaningless now. This was what mattered...her family. Grandmam. Her girls. And yes, him.

That had been the problem. Nothing was ever right without Brent by her side. Life was never complete. She was never truly whole. And tonight she was going to tell and show him that.

She glanced over to the table where Simone and Jill were laughing and teasing their husbands. Though she could not hear what they said, the love they shared emanated from their faces.

She frowned as she pondered what Brent had said. She tried to think of even one couple among her friends, who shared that bond. She could not. She knew that far too many of them were merely going through the motions. For the children. Financial reasons. Or only to avoid the 'scandal' of divorce.

Certainly she had never actually seen a couple like Simone and Samuel. Over a quarter of a century. And the happiness radiated in both their faces as they leaned towards one another giggling like teenagers. Was part of that the depth of trust that Brent spoke about?

"Earth to Mom. Mum?"

Lauren turned back to Megan with a smile, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Did you say something?"

Her daughter shook her head and rolled her eyes, "Dad asked if you wanted to join us in the barn for a while. We're going to let Elise play with her pony."

She returned the smile but shook her head, "How about I join you all later?" She glanced back to see Jill kissing her husband as she rose from the table and headed back into the kitchen. Simone began to collect the dishes off their table as her husband gave her round butt a light tap. "I have some research I need to do actually."

Brent stared at her with his brows knitted together, but he just nodded as he bent to kiss her, tenderly, "Alright, babygirl. Catch up with us when you finish your research."

"If the two of you don't mind, I'd like a bit of time," Katie stammered as she looked down at her hands that seemed to be trembling on the table.

"Of course. Is everything all right?" Brent asked.

The young woman looked up and gave a slight nod, but Lauren saw the tears glistening in her eyes. "I just need some time to think about some things, that's all."

"Sure, Katie. Take all the time you need. Take the rest of the day off. I'd like the chance to spend some quality time with Elise before I leave," Lauren answered. "Just know I am here if you need to talk," she tried to reassure the younger woman with whom they had become so close in such a short time.

Katie nodded her head as she stood, "Thank you, Dr. Masters. I may take you up on the offer...later." She walked over to Elise and used the picture cards that the school had introduced to explain to her daughter.

They had been lucky to find someone as dedicated and loyal as Katie to care for Elise. It was almost as if she loved her as much as they did. While she had not had any experience with young children, especially additional needs ones, Katie Alexander had impressed her from the beginning. And when she came to the second interview in jeans and a t-shirt, immediately getting onto the floor with Elise, Lauren had known she had the right person for the job.

She frowned as she realized for the first time that as close as they had all become to Katie, she knew next to nothing about her background. Just that she was pursuing a Master's in Education and that she came highly recommended by her professors.

But her affinity for their child spoke of something more profound than just book knowledge. Did she have a brother or sister on the spectrum perhaps? Was that why she was so good with Elise? Her brows knit together more as she tried to think of a single time that Katie had mentioned her family. Or even her life before coming to Oxford. But she could not.

Katie rose and said her farewells with a solemnness that Lauren had not noticed before. She promised herself that even if the carer did not seek her out, she would make the time to do so herself. She nodded her farewells as Brent collected their girls and disappeared into the bright sunlight with them, laughter echoing in their wake.

"I'm glad you have come to your senses, child," smiled Grandmam, who had been surprisingly silent for much of lunch.

"I never could keep my secrets from you," she reached across the table and covered her grandmother's hand with her own.

"No, child," she smiled. "From the moment, I held you; I knew that you were special. Perhaps the only good thing that Bridget ever did," Lauren saw more unshed tears in her grandmother's green eyes. "Promise me that you'll hurry back here to those babies and that man?"

"Of course. Just as soon as I speak with my colleagues, one way or the other, I will be back on one of Brent's planes. You have my word on that," she squeezed the hand that seemed colder than usual. "But between Katie and now you, I'm beginning to worry," she admitted.

Her grandmother smiled and chuckled, "Nothing to worry about here, darling — just time. My old mind has been playing tricks on me. Thinking as us old people do of the past. My regrets. My failings. Most of all, your mother."

She looked down at their hands joined together on the table, "I know that my daughter made some bad choices, dear. But she wasn't a bad person. She loved you."

"I'm not excusing what she did, child. I could never do that. But..." Her grandmother paused, looking deep into her eyes, "She never meant to leave you with him permanently. It was just supposed to be a few months while she got settled. Built a new life for you. But things happened. Things that she had no control over. And months turned into years. Years into a lifetime."

"Don't let that be you, Lauren. Not now, not when true happiness is so close to hand. Promise me. Promise me that you will not allow that to happen to you," Lauren was surprised at the strength of her grandmother's grasp as she clung to her.

She studied the woman's face that seemed to have aged in just the short time they had been here. There were dozens of questions racing through her mind. Things she had always wanted to know, but been too afraid to ask. She knew that this was it — her chance.

But she was not sure if she had the courage, the strength to face the answers.

Still, she had to know. Had to put some of her demons to rest. Otherwise, how could she truly move forward into the trusting, loving relationship that Brent spoke of? "Tell me, Grandmam," she barely managed to squeeze the words past the lump in her throat.

Tears spilled down her grandmother's weathered cheeks as she nodded, "Maybe I should have long ago. Maybe if I had all of this would not have happened. I don't know. I never will. But you're right; it is time. Time for the truth to come out."

Lauren did not push her as the tears tracked faster down her cheeks to fall onto the top of their hands entwined together on the table. Old...thin skinned, bruised, prominent veins and wrinkled. Lauren noticed for the first time, the deeper wrinkles beginning to form around her own knuckles. The tiny lines and creases that were multiplying with the years. Time was passing. She too was not as young as she once was. The years ahead stretched out and whizzed by her in an instant as she waited for words that she knew might forever change their course.

"I know that you were never close to your father. James Masters was not the kind of man that knew how to show his emotions. If he even had them," Lauren saw her grandmother's throat constrict. "I don't mean to speak ill of the dead, but the truth is that people were never anything more to that man than his possessions. Just something to be owned and used."

"Your mother was just another of those things," she shook her head. "I tried to tell Bridget. From the moment she brought that man home I knew. What was a forty-two-year-old bachelor doing with an eighteen-year-old woman-child?"

She chuckled and shook her head, "But I don't have to tell you how futile it is trying to tell a teenager anything, especially one as bright and headstrong as Megan and her grandmother. Or you, child. The only difference is that you and my grand-daughter have far better taste in men than your mother did."

"But your mother was never anything more to James than a breeder. A sweet, young, virgin to bear his children and look good on his arm at the right sorts of events," Lauren was shocked at the bitterness and vitriol she heard in her grandmother's voice.

"In exchange, he gave your mother all the things that she had always wanted. And for a time it was enough. She gave him you, and he gave her a diamond bracelet. He showed her a necklace and told her that she could have it too when she gave him a son."

She shook her head, "But that is where the trouble began. Bridget had trouble conceiving again. One year became two then three. And when she finally became pregnant, she lost the baby."

"Of course, to your father, it was his dynasty, nothing more. But to your mother, it was a baby. I don't know how much you remember of those early years, but your mother truly loved you. She did her best. Spending as much time as she could with you, even though James insisted a 'lady' did not raise her children. That was the job of nannies."

"Things began to fall apart then. Bridget was shattered by the miscarriage. She became depressed. Pulled away from you too, child." She sighed and looked down as more tears fell, "But she did her best even then. She brought me down to London from Loch Lomond so you would have more than just a cold nanny."

The woman's voice cracked as she whispered, "She took some pills. Too many of them. But not even that mattered to James. When he found out, he merely said 'too bad the woman could not get even that right.' At least he could begin again, try for a son with another wife." Lauren sucked in a deep breath; she could almost hear her father saying something like that.

"I tried my best, but I did not know how to reach her either, child. I tried," she shook her white head. Her eyes pleaded for mercy, for forgiveness perhaps. Lauren squeezed her hand tighter and nodded.

"Then, she met Antonio. Your father had dressed her up, forced her to smile as he put her on display at some polo match with all the right people. Tony was there, playing for the other team. Young, even more stunning than Brent, and he was smitten. Love at first sight. He pursued your mother like James had...until she married him anyway," she explained.

"Your mother got pregnant again," she explained in another of those whispers. "But she knew the baby was not James's. It could not be. He had not touched her since the miscarriage. Damaged goods, he called her."

Her eyes met Lauren's, "Your father found out. He told her to abort it or get the hell out of his life. Bridget was more than happy to do the latter at that point. The problem was James would not allow her to take you. You were his child. His only child. Another of his possessions. And he did not allow anyone to take what belonged to him."

"The rest you know. Well, sort of. What you don't know is how hard your mother and Tony fought for you. But James was sly. He played the wounded cuckold and loving father perfectly for the judges. He had lost his wife; he could not lose his only child. If they allowed her to take you to Brazil, even for a visit, he might never see you again. Oh, the man was as good an actor as he was a businessman."

"Time had moved on for your mother too. Three babies in five years as the divorce dragged out. Your father took great pleasure in denying her visitation with you, safely ensconcing you in boarding schools, while doing all he could to cause trouble between her and Tony. Without a divorce, she could not marry the man she loved, the father of her other children," she explained.

"In the end, they negotiated a compromise. James would sign the divorce papers if she granted him sole custody of you. But even then Bridget fought for you, child. If she could not be there for you, then she demanded that I be allowed to be. It was not much maybe, but it was the best she could do," the tears were flowing from both their eyes then — pooling on the table between them.

"Oh, Grandmam, it was more than enough. More than," Lauren choked on her tears as the depths of the truth finally was revealed to her.

She could even sympathize with the woman, whom she had met only a handful of times before she and Tony had died in a car accident when Lauren was sixteen.

How many times had she felt torn between her daughters? Worried that she was shortchanging Megan's childhood because of the demands of her autistic sister? How must her mother have felt facing such an impossible choice, the welfare of one child versus the happiness of her husband and four others?

This conversation certainly cast new light on old wounds, "Thank you, Grandmam. I know that must not have been easy for you. But you're right; I did need to hear it."

"I should have long ago, child. It was just that you were so different from Bridget. So smart and it seemed you had it all together. I was afraid that the truth would only hurt you. Drive a deeper wedge between you and James. He was after all the only parent you had."

"Then, of course, you married Brent and had the girls. I thought you were going to have the fairytale ending that your mother never did." She sighed as she looked across the table, "Then the divorce. You don't know how many times I thought about telling you then. But I was afraid it was too late; that it might only hurt you worse."

"But time is running out, child," Lauren shook her head at her grandmother's words. The woman might be fast approaching her eighth decade on the planet, but she had always seemed immortal to her. Like the ancient goddess, Morrigan, whom she had taught her about.

"Time may be running out for all of us, Lauren. So, it is even more important that you make the right choices now. I don't know if Bridget made the right one. I know that it weighed heavily on her for the rest of her life. That it marred even the happiness, she had found with Tony and their sons."

She shook her head as she made the sign of the cross, "Sometimes I think we don't really get choices. That Fate forces us down paths. Sometimes hard ones. And all we can do is to make the best of it. But that is probably my stoic Scot speaking."

"But Fate must have thought he owed my Bridget something for that because he certainly sent her baby girl a man worth having." Her grandmother pulled her arthritic hand from hers and brushed tears from Lauren's cheek, "I know she'd want you to be happy, just like I do, child. That man loves you. He always has. And he's a good man too."

"You know that was my only other comfort...that Tony was the good man, your mother deserved. But she could never let go of the past. The pain. You. I don't blame her for that. I can't imagine how much losing not one but two children must have hurt her. But by letting that pain control her, she could never fully give herself to her husband...or their sons."

"I don't want that for you, child. Don't let your parents' mistakes keep you from the happiness you deserve, that that man deserves. Those girls too. It's time. Time to let go of the pain and hurt of a little girl — time to become a true woman. And embrace your destiny. Your calling," she smiled through the tears.

"Time to truly return that man's love. The way he deserves too." She nodded her head towards the closed kitchen door, "So, go find your new friends and figure out how to meet that man halfway."

There was so much more that Lauren wanted to know, about her mother, parts of her past that she had blocked out. She had so many questions. And for the first time, she too felt that time might be slipping through her fingers.

But, as always, Grandmam was right. She might not have all the puzzle pieces neatly ordered into piles, and the picture fully realized, but she had the pieces now. Well, part of them. More lay perhaps behind that door.

She wiped her eyes and went around the table to hug her grandmother tightly, "Thank you, Grandmam. Thank you for everything," she said as she kissed her wet, wrinkled cheek.

The old woman reached up and squeezed her arm, "If you truly want to thank me, child, then get in that kitchen and find out what you need to know to bring happiness to that boy...and you."

Lauren nodded, "I will, I promise. And we'll talk more when I get back."

Her grandmother smiled and shooed her towards her destiny, and hopefully, more pieces of that puzzle.

***

But Lauren froze just inside the large silvery and somewhat sterile-looking room. The two women that she had sought out were elbows deep in dishes and even deeper in conversation. Their laughter sang off the walls.

And she felt like an outsider. An intruder. It was not a new feeling, of course. Even growing up in those boarding schools, she had never fit in with the other girls. Being a science nerd had set her apart from peers more worried about fashion and gossip. She did not even fit in with the other 'smart' girls, whose interests ran towards the arts and languages.

Only her summers at science camp...with him...had ever felt right. Like she belonged.

She wanted to belong again. Wanted the picture of intimacy that Brent's words had planted in her fertile imagination. And these women might hold that key.

She bit her lower lip and cleared her throat, "Excuse me."

The women turned towards her, and she was relieved to see the warm smiles on their faces. "How can we help you, Mrs. Doc?" Simone challenged with friendly banter.

Lauren felt the heat rise to her face as she sought the proper words to begin this conversation. But she could not seem to find them.

Jill smiled as she crossed the room to the shiny metal island that stood in the middle. She pulled three stools from the corner and arranged them around it. "I think a spot of tea might be nice, don't you?"

Lauren nodded relieved. Tea was always the right answer in her book. Simone turned back and opened the fridge, pulling out what looked like the most decadent chocolate cake she had ever seen. "While I was at the store today, I thought if Doc was right, about the end of the world shit, it might be the last chance we get for a long time to enjoy one of my Mississippi Mud Cakes."

Lauren had to agree as she took one of the stools, and the women finished preparing their desserts and drinks before joining her around the makeshift table. She moaned as she bit into the cake that Simone placed in front of her. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh," she sighed.

"Almost as good as loud, wet, kinky sex, ain't it?" Simone teased.

Lauren inhaled deeply, grateful to the woman for opening the door to this challenging task, "It's good, but I'm not so sure it's 'that' good."

"Oh, anything, in particular, you want to share, Mrs. Doc?" chuckled her new friend.

Lauren turned to Jill, knowing that after so long living in England, the other woman might understand her dilemma. She smiled reassuringly and nodded, "If you want, it's really up to you. But trust me, what we say here, stays here. You have my word on it."