| Subject: Chapter 36 (really long) |
Author:
Kate
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Date Posted: 20:27:23 04/04/01 Wed
In reply to:
Kate
's message, "Things My Mother Taught Me" on 09:29:32 04/03/01 Tue
******************
Apologize when you're wrong.
" -- fine," Michael was saying into his mobile, when he was attacked from behind by skinny suntanned arms that wrapped around his waist. He grabbed the arms, twisted her around and smiled. "Milla!"
"Hi." She hugged him tightly and Michael put an arm around her.
"Milla just got in, Sam," he informed Sam on the phone, and Milla stood on Michael's feet.
"Hi, Sammy," she called, and heard a tinny reply.
"Yes, I'll call when I know something. We'll see you in a few hours," Michael said to Sam, and disconnected, tucking the phone into his pocket. "When did you get here?" he asked Milla.
"Just a while ago."
Father and daughter looked at each other evenly, until Milla dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Michael."
"It's all right, Milla," Michael said mildly, palming her head and pulling her to his side. "I'm just glad you're back. Is everything ... all right?"
"Yes. I'm a stupid fool."
"Well, we're all stupid fools sometimes. When I was 21, I was blowing up things. Extremely stupid and very foolish." Michael led her the waiting room.
"What kind of things?"
"Post offices, banks." He shrugged. "And don't get me started on the things your mother did when she was 21. So, you see, being a stupid fool is all relative."
"You think so?" Milla asked doubtfully.
"Mmmm. Where did you go?"
"Pompeii."
"Ah. Did David come for you?"
"Yes," Milla said, puzzled. "How did you know?"
"It was a logical guess."
"Oh." Milla sat down in one of the molded plastic chairs and looked around. "Where's Mami?"
"In with Sara. Where's David?" Michael squatted down beside her, his elbows resting on his knees.
"He just dropped me off. Said Dulcie needed the evening off and he'd stay at the Lucia in case anyone else called about Sara." She gave Michael a small smile. "He left me these. In case I saw something nasty and fainted." She pulled out a pocketful of lollipops, and Michael smiled.
From behind them, a hesitant voice said, "Milla?"
Milla twisted around. Her mother stood uncertainly behind Michael. She looked tired and ill and suddenly Milla burst into tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Hush, Milla," Nikita hugged Milla, then scooted her over so she held her on her lap. "It's all right. It was a nasty thing to do to you, lying for all those years."
"I love you. I never should have left," Milla sobbed, her arms tight around Nikita's neck.
"Well, it's never good to run away from troubles," Nikita started, then Michael caught her eye and she saw his lips twitch. "Although, I have to admit, I've run away from troubles a time or two, myself."
"Why?" Milla sniffed and held out her hand; Michael sighed, produced a handkerchief, and waited for Nikita to answer.
"Because I was young and foolish," Nikita smiled, but it was Michael she looked at, not Milla. "And young, foolish women do young, foolish things. The trick is to learn from your mistakes and not repeat them."
"How?"
"You grow up, baby girl," Nikita said gently, smoothing Milla's cheek.
Milla swiped her nose again and got up. "I thought I was grown up."
"You're getting there," Nikita smiled. "Would you like to go see Sara?"
"Yes."
"Second door to the right."
"Okay." She hesitated. "Is there blood?"
"Not yet," Nikita assured her. Milla got off her mother's lap and walked down the hall, one hand in her pocket that had the candy in it.
Michael slid into the seat next to Nikita. "How are you?"
"All right. Ready to get this over with. You?"
He took her hand, careful to press her palm against his, since her fingertips were numb. "Being a father is hard work."
"Mmmm."
"You have to make a lot of phone calls and calm down hysterical relatives. And you have to be wise."
"Mmmm. It's not all ugly ties and lumpy art projects," Nikita pointed out, reminding him of all the Fathers' Day presents Milla had given him over the years.
"It certainly isn't," agreed Michael. He kissed her hand, then brushed her knuckles back and forth across his lips. "You know, there's a good chance Elena may show up in the next few days. She'll want to see the grandchild."
"Mmmm."
"Do you mind, Nikita?"
She gave him a speculative look. "Are you going to ditch me and Milla and run off with her?"
"Nikita, no," he said, looking shocked. "Where would you get an idea --"
"Are you going to feel guilty and decide to join a monastery or something equally asinine?"
"No --"
"Will you stay right with me through this transplant thing?"
"Yes! --"
"Could I --" she glanced around at the busy waiting room, leaned closer and whispered something in his ear that made his face pale and his eyes dilate.
"Absolutely. Whenever you want to," he said.
"Will you say, ‘Hullo, Elena, it's nice to see you again, you've done a great job raising your children, hope you have a nice life' without offering to do anything else for her? Like pay for therapy or --"
"She can pay for her own therapy," Michael growled. "I certainly left her enough money to do so."
Nikita cocked her head. "If you touch her, you'll be sorry."
"I'm already sorry and she's not even here. The only person I want to touch is you. Particularly if you ... ummmm ... do what you said you'd like to do. Which you can. Anytime. I won't mind at all."
Nikita smiled and she kissed him. "I do love you, Michael. More now than I did when we were younger. I love your steadfastness and your loyalty and the way you love me and Milla. I love your sense of humor, which, I have to say, was sadly lacking in our younger days."
"Well, there wasn't much humorous in our lives."
"Mmmm. That being said, just remember: If you stray, I'll kill you."
"You're the one who refused to marry me --"
"Which is a good thing, considering the whole polygamist issue."
"That wouldn't have come up. I'm dead, remember? Come to think of it, you are too."
Nikita kissed him again. "You look pretty good for a dead man, Michael."
"Who said the afterlife was boring?"
"Certainly not me."
*****************
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