Set a couple of months after "Widower".
Audrey Lynne
"We're here." Jim Ellison smiled at his best friend, who was looking out the window of the truck, his eyes widening at the sheer size of the house in front of them. "Chief, we've been here quite a few times; you're still gaping?"
Blair Sandburg chuckled softly. "My entire house could fit into one wing of this place. I mean, THIS is the life of the rich and famous. Me, I'm the definitely not-rich and relatively obscure." He turned to unbuckle his daughter's car seat; the two-year-old had fallen asleep during the drive over. "Now we get to see how long she'll STAY asleep."
"That's anyone's guess," Jim replied, grinning.
Jamie Sandburg fussed for a moment as she was lifted from the car seat, but quickly settled down, sleepily laying her head on Blair's shoulder and hooking one arm around the back of his neck. A moment later, she had gone back to sleep.
Blair raised an eyebrow as they walked toward the house. "Well, that was relatively simple. By the way, Jim, what's the occasion? Why'd your dad want us to come over?"
"He didn't say," Jim answered. "All he told me was that he wanted to see us."
Blair grinned. "Hey, when your dad calls, I listen. After all that help we got from him after the Great Sentinel Fiasco..." He shrugged. "Besides, he's really lightened up since I met him -- and Jamie adores him, so..."
Jim lightly ruffled Jamie's dark curls, but not enough to wake her. "I think the feeling's mutual in that respect. He's pretty fond of her, too. His only granddaughter."
"I still can't believe she decided he was her grandfather," Blair said, shaking his head softly. "I don't have a problem with it, and it doesn't seem anyone else does, but it was still kind of funny."
Since Blair's arms were occupied with supporting Jamie, Jim reached out and rang the doorbell. Sally opened the door momentarily, offering them a smile as she did. "Hello, boys."
"Hi, Sally." Jim gave her a quick hug.
Blair shifted Jamie's weight just long enough to wave. "Hey."
Sally stroked Jamie's hair briefly, then looked up to meet Blair's eyes. "Did you want me to take her for you?" It was an offer, to be sure, but an offer that was best to take her up on. She didn't have children around the house to fuss over anymore, so she indulged herself with Steven's children -- and Blair's.
"Sure, thanks." Blair transferred the toddler to Sally's waiting arms, smiling at the weak protests on Jamie's part. She wasn't truly opposed to the change; Blair knew THAT tone all too well -- her main problem seemed to be with being awakened.
"Come here, precious," Sally soothed, trying to lull the girl back to sleep. She turned back to Jim and Blair before taking Jamie upstairs with her. "William's in the living room."
William. Blair shook his head. Though Jim's father had invited Blair to call him by his first name, Blair still couldn't totally get his mind around the concept -- which was ironic, because calling his own mother by her first name was a matter of routine; it was how he'd grown up. Perhaps the prestige William Ellison commanded had something to do with it? It would make an interesting study.
As they headed into the living room, Blair thought back, trying to remember the last time he'd seen William. Or, rather, the last time he'd seen William under pleasant circumstances. Blair remembered all-too-well the last time he had actually seen Jim's father. It had been at Maggie's funeral. William had been wonderfully supportive, but not overbearing -- sympathetic as needed, but allowing Jim to take the larger role in terms of offering comfort. It was just what Blair had needed at the time. Even two months later, the pain was still present, merely dulled. His marriage had been a tumultuous one at many times, divorce had even been threatened once -- but they had begun to think that they were going to be able to work through their problems. Either way, he certainly hadn't wanted the marriage to end the way it had. 'Til death do us part wasn't something I'd bargained on.
At least they had caught the man responsible for killing Maggie and her partner. One didn't murder two police officers and get away with it. He would pay. It was a small comfort, but better than nothing.
As they entered the living room, William set aside the book he had been reading, and smiled pleasantly. "Jimmy. Blair. Good to see you again."
"You too, Dad," Jim replied. Blair inclined his head in acknowledgement, still lost in his thoughts.
William seemed to understand, and changed the subject to something a little easier to discuss. "It looks like Sally's already made off with Jamie."
Blair laughed softly. "Yeah, she didn't waste much time."
"Sally tends to do that. She misses having children around -- but, let me tell you, she was a godsend when Jimmy and Steven were small."
A fond smile had crept onto Jim's face. "Yeah, especially after--" He broke off suddenly, and looked around the room as if to erase whatever he'd been about to say.
Blair knew the rest of that sentence. After Mom left. He had heard it in private with Jim many times, but he knew it was a taboo subject amongst the Ellison men, and said nothing.
William nodded, acknowledging the unspoken sentiment -- which, Blair suspected, was better than he would have done in previous years. William had changed a lot, and softened, since Blair had first met him -- which had been the same time as Jim and his father had been reunited after a long estrangement. All of them had changed since then, in more ways than one.
Sally's voice floated to them from upstairs. "Jimmy, can you come help me for a minute?"
"Sure," Jim agreed, turning to leave the room.
Blair wasn't sure he trusted the expression on William's face as Jim went to help Sally. It was the same look he'd had right before he wanted to discuss the ramifications of the Sentinel dissertation leak. Granted, that conversation had turned out fairly well, what with William offering free use of his attack lawyers. Still, the timing of Sally's request for help seemed suspicious, and with no current legal problems in his life, Blair hadn't a clue about what William might have wanted to talk to him about. Blair attempted to ease the tension of the moment, even if that tension was only his own. "Hey, looks like it's just the two of us. Gotta love those Jags, huh?" It wasn't basketball season, but that was beside the point.
William laughed softly, nodding for Blair to have a seat on the sofa. "Blair, it's August. Care to try for the Mariners?"
"No way." Blair decided to play along. "That may be fine for you and Jim, but I've always been a Dodgers fan at heart."
"As long as it's not the Cubs," William allowed, grinning slyly.
Blair shrugged. "I don't know; I've always had a weakness for hard-luck cases."
"Ah, yes, rooting for the underdog."
Wait, am I HAVING this conversation with William Ellison? Blair thought. Baseball? They had always talked about other matters -- Jim's senses, the weirder elements of the 'Sentinel thing', Jim's childhood, Jamie, and other things of importance to their worlds. Sports had only been on the agenda when Jim was around to bring the matter up, usually to avoid the cute stories about baby Jimmy's various adventures. Jimmy flushing hotel keys down the toilet at twenty-two months, explaining, "Keys go fwush." Various things like that.
"I didn't find it amusing at the time, but Mary thought it was the funniest thing." Blair chuckled softly, recalling when William had related the key flushing incident. Blair had always assumed that Mary was Sally's predecessor, since Jim had once mentioned that Sally had been there from the time he was two or so. Wonder what Grace made of it -- or did she even care? Blair wasn't sure how he felt about Grace Ellison's abandonment of her family. At least when Naomi had left him, he had always known she was coming back.
Blair wasn't entirely certain how he'd gotten around to thinking about that story in particular, other than the fact that it had given him the best blackmail material -- almost as good as the story Naomi had told Jim about Blair's toilet-riding superhero days.
"Blair, can we talk?"
The automatic response of, "I thought we WERE talking," didn't really seem appropriate, so Blair just nodded. "Yeah, sure. What's on your mind?" What's it today? Sentinel issues? The older man looked too serious for this to be another baby Jimmy tale.
"Have I ever told you about Mary?" William asked.
Ah, so today I learn about the mysterious Mary, Blair thought. "You've mentioned her before, but that's all I know about her. Was she around before Sally?"
"Yes," William confirmed, "but probably not in the way you're thinking." He picked up a photo album that had been lying on the coffee table, and handed it to Blair. As he did, William flipped the book open to a page with a newspaper clipping announcing Jim and Carolyn's wedding. "Read the bottom."
Blair did, mentally shrugging -- until he came across the listed names of Jim's parents. "Mary Margaret? I thought Grace was Jim and Steven's mother."
"Grace was the only mother he really knew, and she IS Steven's mother," William explained. "Mary Margaret -- everyone just called her Mary -- was actually Jim's mother by birth; she was my first wife. Jimmy knows about her, but he doesn't remember anything that I know of."
"First wife," Blair echoed. He was still confused. If this Mary Margaret was Jim's mother, where the hell was she when he was growing up? I know William Ellison wasn't exactly easy to deal with, but he wasn't the devil incarnate. Did they divorce? Did Mary and Grace have some bitterness between them? What does Jim think about Mary? He's never talked about her. Of course, if he was too young to remember... "Okay."
William bit his lip, but only for a brief moment. If Blair hadn't been looking, he'd have missed it. "She died about a month before Jimmy turned two."
"I'm sorry." They were the first words out of Blair's mouth, the most natural -- and the only ones he could think of. Boy, do I know how THAT feels. The only appropriate words at such times never seemed to be enough. On the other hand, Blair had to grapple with an irrational anger that William would bring this up so soon after Maggie's death. He's had all kinds of time to tell me this -- why now? Mary Margaret. It couldn't have been Mary Catherine, Mary Jane, Mary Ann, or Mary Sue. Does he think I just need reminding? I don't need to be reminded. I don't WANT to be reminded, dammit.
William appeared to notice, because he reached out and chanced resting a hand on Blair's arm. "I know you probably think my timing could have been better, because I would have most likely felt the same way if someone had brought this up to me back then."
No kidding.
"But," William continued, "I know what it's like to suddenly be left on your own with a two-year-old to raise. It's not easy, having to instantly become both parents -- and explain where Mommy went to someone too young to conceptualize death."
Gods, been there and done that, Blair thought. It sounded like so much more work when he heard it described out loud. He was finally beginning to 'get' it. William was offering more than the sympathy Blair was forever getting recently and coming to despite. This wasn't about pity; it was about being able to relate. Blair hadn't known about this side of William before, the widower with a child. It hadn't been relevant before, and this was the first time since Maggie had died that Blair would have really been ready to hear it. It had been a planned 'chat', but planned well. "Yeah, I never realized how much there really was to DO." He'd found someone who understood; it was a wonderful feeling. People would shake their heads softly and commiserate about how difficult it must have been for Blair, but none of them had been there. None of them knew what it was like to have to plan every minute of your life around your child, when previously you'd had your wife available to take care of her for blocks of time. Even running to the grocery store had become a major production, considering how long it took to get a toddler ready to go anywhere. He'd resigned as a detective and gone back to Rainier, something he'd once sworn he would never do, because Jamie needed a parent who had regular hours, didn't routinely spend the night on stakeouts, and -- barring complications due to Fate -- would almost certainly come home at night. Blair had taken a position as a consultant, but it wasn't quite the same as running with Jim in the field. For Jamie, though, he would do whatever he had to. "We both worked, so I fortunately got to keep the same babysitter, but it's amazing how much more I've needed her -- and how little things take twice as long now!"
William nodded. "I know, believe me. I have to admit, you have an advantage that I didn't. I wasn't nearly as involved in Jimmy's life as you have been in Jamie's. You at least know what her routine is supposed to be like. I didn't have a clue. I'm just grateful he wasn't any younger, or I'd have had an even worse time of it. At least I arrived at a solution before he ended up scarred for life -- because of that, anyhow." There was a hint of guilt in the last comment, but that was a subject best not rehashed at the moment.
The thought of William Ellison attempting to manage a two-year-old's schedule had Blair wanting to laugh. Lunch at noon, nap at one, playtime at three... He had to assume that hadn't lasted very long. "So, what did you do?"
"I hired Sally."
"Great lady," Blair said, smiling. "Unfortunately, I can't afford Sally, or anyone else."
William frowned slightly. "That would tend to be a problem -- did you want me to give you the money?"
Blair was seriously struggling not to laugh. That was just the way the man's mind worked; money could solve everything, and he was willing to offer it freely to his family and those who had sort of been adopted into the family. It's downright chivalrous, in a weird kind of way. "Nah, it's okay -- not enough room at my place to put someone up, anyhow. Thanks, but I think I'll muddle through. I have to figure I'll get the hang of it eventually."
"I'm sure you will." William was pensive for a few seconds, then looked back over at Blair. "I'm definitely not the person to be taking parenting advice from -- heaven knows I made a lot of mistakes with my boys, even with Sally to help. But may I offer an observation?"
"By all means."
"Don't let yourself get hung up on the little things," William advised. "You blink, and they're grown, so don't let their lives pass you by because you've got to be concerned with getting everything perfect at work. I know that's not the kind of person you are. A long time ago, that wasn't the person I was, either. I threw myself into work after Mary's death, for distraction, and I never got out of that rut. My job became my life, and it killed my marriage to Grace -- and destroyed my relationship with my sons. Thankfully, I've had a chance to redeem myself, and get my family back to an extent, but I can truly say that I hope you never need that chance."
Blair nearly had to remind himself to breathe; while he had William had gotten along pretty well, they had never previously shared an intimate moment such as this, not just the two of them. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." The photo album was still in his lap, and he flipped to the earliest pages. The year, 1962, was hand-written at the top of the page -- which was filled with several baby pictures. It had to be Jim. The year was enough of a giveaway, but the baby even looked like Jim. Hell, when I was this age, I most closely resembled a troll doll. Thank goodness Jamie was luckier.
Blair turned the page, hoping Mary would be in one of the photographs. He wanted to see what Jim's mother had looked like. There was a picture on the second page of a woman holding baby Jim, looking quite carefree and happy.
"Yes, that was Mary." William answered Blair's unasked question.
"She was beautiful." Blair was amazed by how much Jim looked like his mother, once he had seen her. He would have asked about potential Sentinel abilities, but that could be left for another time. Of course, Jim was nearly street pizza when he zoned that first time. I wonder if...
"I didn't notice anything, if the sensory powers are what you're considering."
Blair looked up sharply, then shook his head. "That obvious, huh?"
"Not really. You just never seem to be able to resist a good mystery, and we're still not sure HOW Jimmy ended up with these powers he has." William smiled. "I'm sure we'll find out eventually."
Blair mentally shrugged, then returned to perusing the photo album. William kept surprising him again by the minute. Damn, Jim was a pretty cute little kid. Wonder why he never showed me any pictures? He's got to have some back at the loft. Then again, the answer to that question was obvious. Some of the pictures obviously had a story behind them, and it was those stories Jim was doubtless seeking to avoid. William, however, had already proven he had no such qualms about providing the accounts when he knew them -- and when he didn't, Sally usually did. "Hey, what about this one?" This was going to be fun.
William glanced over, and laughed. "Oh, that was when he was five. Stevie wasn't quite a year old, and--"
"Don't even think about it," Jim said, coming into the room.
Nearly forgot about that Sentinel hearing, Blair thought. "Ah, Jim, you'll survive. C'mon, I want to hear the story."
"Daddy!" Jamie shrieked in the next moment, now obviously awake and having gotten away from Sally. She jumped up into her father's lap, settling in comfortably. Blair kissed her forehead, and turned back to William for the rest of the explanation, ignoring Jim's admittedly weak protests.
He'd definitely 'muddle through' somehow. Of course, in life, as in most journeys, getting there was half the fun.
The End