A Summer of Sunsets
Chapter #8, Choices and Decisions, pt.3
Southampton; Long Island, NY
July 2nd, 2004
About 7:15 p.m.
As the early evening shadows began to lengthen, the excitement and anticipation around Xavier’s estate was just getting started. The gathered students & adopted children of the well known philanthropist had done their level bests to turn the usually quite beachside mansion into a real party place, complete with decorations of red, white & blue; unopened boxes of fireworks and enough food to feed a small army.
‘Non-party. Riiight…’ Scott shook his head as he surveyed the gluttony of food on the five tables set up outside on the expansive patio. As he watched, Bobby and Emmett were setting up a sixth to use expressly for drinks. All around him the younger students were busy making Charles’ summer home look as festive as possible, and having fun doing it. As he leaned against the patio’s rail, he saw Jubilee, Kitty & Piotr separating some hand-held sparklers into groups, tying them off w/ festively-colored ribbons for later that night, once the real fireworks began down at the public beach.
“This is really shaping up, isn’t it?” Bobby came up beside him, dusting his hands off with a grin.
Scott chuckled, reaching across one of the tables to grab a small handful of chips. Popping a couple into his mouth, he chewed around his response. “Yeah, well I have a sneaking suspicion that this isn’t quite what Charles & Erik had in mind when they approved this little ‘shin-dig’.”
“It isn’t that much, is it?” Bobby looked around them, doubting it before his gaze took in the full extent of the preparations and then reminded himself that most of the food wasn’t even out there yet. Then, he only whistled lowly, stifling a laugh.
Scott nodded. “Yeah, that about sums it up. And I’m not even going to tell you what all this ended up costing at the store.”
“It’s worth it, you’ll see.” Jubilee flew past them, carrying the disposable dinnerware in her arms to the table set up for the drinks. Giving Scott her brightest smile, she piped, “And wait ‘till you taste some of the desserts Ms. Munroe is fixin’ up”This is gonna be the best p”uh, ‘get together’ ever!”
“We’re gonna have a hard time matching this next month,” Bobby chuckled, looking to Scott.
The older man was a little distracted, however, at the mention of Ororo. His red-tinted gaze was aimed in the direction of the back door leading from the patio to the house, where he knew the current object of his affection was coordinating the group’s dessert efforts. His thoughts flashed back to their grocery shopping adventure earlier that day, and how distracted she’d seemed afterwards on the ride home. He’d asked her why she seemed a million miles away, but only managed to get a vague response before having to turn his attention back to the giddy teens behind him, who were trying not to get caught breaking into some of the packaged goodies they’d just bought. Since then, she’d disappeared almost completely, between duties in the kitchen with Mrs. Duvahl and checking up on Charles.
At the mention of her now, Scott found himself headed back in the direction of the delicious smell of baked goods coming from the kitchen, hoping to catch her there.
Inside, Ororo stood at one of the counters, hand-mixing a large bowl of thick yellow liquid. Facing away from the door and the rest of the busy kitchen, she seemed more in deep thought than actually cooking, dressed down in a simple v-neck shirt and jeans. Tied at her neck and waist was her favorite apron, one Marie had gotten her years before that was personally embroidered “Respect The Chef”, complete with a warning lightning bolt stitched within the words.
Unknown to her (and the others were too busy to notice), she’d been whipping that bowl for close to ten minutes, when the directions specifically required only 3. The sudden cramp in her fingers was the only thing that got her attention, and she looked down at the now soupy concoction in her arms, slightly peeved at herself. Setting down the bowl, she wiped her hands on her apron, and reached for the small baking pan that had been set out for her.
She couldn’t seem to get her mind back on track, ever since her run-in with Mr. Nameless at the Emporium. Ororo wasn’t even sure exactly why she couldn’t seem to get her mind off of him. The shock of his admittedly handsome appearance could only be a part of it, she was sure; after all, he wasn’t the first man she’d seen ‘clean up’ well.
As she poured the mixing bowl of batter into the pan, Ororo remembered the piercing, almost intimate way his silver eyes had captured hers; they said something to her, but what exactly, she couldn’t comprehend. It was almost as if he were waiting for her to say something; something more than “Uhm, thank you”.
Setting the pan inside one of the ovens, she resumed leaning against the counter, slowly wiping her hands again. Her eyes glazed over, as she realized that the real thing bothering her, was that in all her years with Charles, all the summer vacations & special occasions at the beach house, this was the first she remembered ever seeing this man”and now, to suddenly come across him 2 times (3 if she counted her attempt to help him clean up) seemed just too much of a coincidence. With a sudden thought, she turned away from the counter to untie the apron.
“Hey, Ororo there you are!”
She turned in some surprise to see Scott walking up behind her, his father’s inherited dazzling smile coming out strongly. He was impeccably dressed in Abercrombie & Finch from head to toe, and even Ro had to admit that he was quite attractive, his hair slightly wind-blown and his crimson glasses reflecting the setting sun’s rays. “Scott?”
He came up to her and without asking moved to help her untie the apron. She tried to dissuade him, but he shooed her hands away, gathering her long white ponytail together and over her shoulder before proceeding. She hushed and allowed him to help, rolling her eyes a little at his fussing over her.
“Making your famous lemon bars? Smells great.”
“I just put them in, Scott.” She gave him a look that she hoped he could read: Stop trying so hard.
Summers only chuckled lightly, his fingers at the small of her back as he untied the knot there, slowly and deliberately. Once done, he leaned in close, confusing Ororo momentarily with his intent gaze, but only to take the apron from around her waist. Stepping back a pace, he folded it neatly in his hands, still looking at her. “’S ‘kay. I know they’ll still be delicious.”
Choosing to ignore the ‘special’ look he was giving her, Ororo smiled appreciatively, as he offered the folded apron to her. “Thank you.”
As she tried to take the bundled cloth, he held onto it, pulling her a step or two closer to him. They stood there with their faces only a few inches apart, as Scott did his level best to rattle her cool cage. For her part, Ororo stood up to his challenge, though her stomach did a small flip at his close proximity.
“No problem.” He almost whispered the words, a smile breaking the corners of his soft lips.
“Scott…?”
“Yeah.”
“Mind letting go of my apron?” She smirked at the flash of disappointment in his eyes. Holding the cloth to her securely, she turned to go, but he reached out quickly to stop her, holding onto her wrist with a loose but suggestive clutch. With a single step, Scott was close enough to her back that she could feel his body heat. Without turning, she lowered her chin for a moment, looking around the room to make sure none of the help was watching, and praying that none of the Family walked in just then.
“Hey, am I going to see you later?”
“I live here, Scott.”
“You know what I mean. I thought we could watch the fireworks together. Maybe go dancing later?” His eyes were bright with anticipation behind his specs, as his words were meant to recall their last late night out.
She swallowed hard, not really wanting to let him down since they’d sort of gotten back to being friends again, but at the same time not willing to forgo the promise she’d made Marie…and herself. Glancing back at him quickly, she replied, “Scott”“
“Hey, just a couple of friends celebrating. Nothing heavy.” He read her tone perfectly.
She seriously doubted his words, listening to the sly seduction behind them. “I don’t know. I’ll probably be all night helping Mrs. Duvahl clean up the mess Jubilation and this party are sure to make. I can’t make you any promises.” ‘Why am I caving??’
He shrugged one shoulder, as if it suddenly didn’t matter, and nodded. “That’s alright. We’ll just play it by ear then, hm? See where the night takes us.”
She shook her head at his mischievous grin, stepping away from him and through the door to the hall leading to the front parlor and the main staircase. She wasn’t prepared to get into another lecture with him”to remind him that they were JUST friends; Ro had too much on her mind, and decided to deal with Scott later, when the moment was sure to re-present itself.
Upstairs in the master bedroom, Charles lay in his bed, fully dressed but for his shoes, which were neatly stationed on the floor, at the side near the foot of the wide mattress. Henry was placing his medical instruments back into his black bag, and then began cleaning up the supplies his father had needed for his evening dose of the TLV cocktail. Feeling a little light-headed and woozy from being a little behind schedule, Charles had opted to take a little breather before going downstairs to join in with the festivities he could sense all around him.
“Thank you, Henry; I’m feeling a little better already.”
In full doctor mode, Hank gently chastised, “You’re going to have to remember these doses exactly, Dad. Erik is going with you to Genosha, but you can’t rely on him all the time.”
“I know, Henry.” Xavier sighed, hearing the concern in his son’s voice along with the chastising of his doctor. He just couldn’t seem to remember all the time; with all the preparations for his trip coming up, he was pressed to get certain things in order before his departure.
Fixing his dad with a sympathetic eye, Hank squeezed his hand in reassurance, deciding to taper his admonishment. “I’ll see you downstairs, alright?”
Charles nodded, relaxing against the pillows. As Dr. McCoy headed to the door, he gave his dad a quick smile, and opened the door”nearly colliding with Ororo, who was just reaching up to knock on it.
“Sorry, Hank…Uh, is everything alright?” Her expression had gone from comical to concerned in the blink of an eye.
Patting her shoulder, the doctor said, “Nothing serious, this time. Just a case of forgetfulness on dad’s part. Maybe if you get after him, he’ll listen up.”
Charles put on a stubborn face at his children, who turned to him with expressions mixed with care and exasperation. Ororo squeezed her brother’s arm, edging him out of the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Before you start”, Charles held up a hand to her as she closed the door, “I’ve already been hounded quite enough by your brother, and I’m sure Erik will be calling any moment from his cell so I may count on another earful.”
She crossed her arms, coming to sit on the bed next to him. “Not that I’m letting you off the hook, but where is Erik? I missed him when we got back earlier.”
“Quick errand to his office in Manhattan.”
“’Quick’? I doubt he’s even going to make it back for the fireworks in the traffic he’s going to find. It couldn’t wait until morning?”
Charles was picking at the thread of his comforter. As she watched him, she suddenly wondered why he needed it in the middle of July; the A/C was on, but was it that cold to him? “Dad, would like me to close the vents in here?”
He looked up at her then, and shook his head. “It’s just a little chilly. Besides, I can just put on a sweater. So, to what do I owe the pleasure? I thought you’d be busy keeping the kids out of trouble and Scott off of your back.”
She nearly did a double take at that, her eyes widening at his remark and a stifled laugh of indignation escaping her full lips. “Dad!”
“Oh, don’t “Dad” me; you kids think I’m some old fuddy-duddy who can’t remember what it was like to be young and restless once upon a time?” His blue eyes twinkled at her shocked expression, and Charles chuckled when he realized she’d gone speechless.
Temporarily.
“I can’t believe even you know about all this. What next: is Erik going to chime in with an opinion?” She settled back against the pillow beside him in mock exasperation.
“I’m sure he has one. Besides, I may be sick but I’m not blind.” He chuckled somberly, waving away her surprise that he could take a joking tone about it. “But that’s beside the point. Obviously, Scott isn’t why you are here. What’s wrong?”
She paused before delving into what she’d come up for, still in shock over her father’s fresh comments. Shaking her head, she chalked it up to the fact that evidently there were some things that even she didn’t know about Charles Xavier, and occasionally, he could still surprise her. Taking a deep breath, she looked him deep in the eyes, and began. “Dad, can you tell me about the people that live around here? The ones I didn’t grow up around as a kid.”
He thought her question odd as it had come out, one eyebrow raised momentarily. “Anyone in particular?”
She felt just a slight tinge of embarrassment for some reason, as she answered, “Actually, yes. There’s a small estate down the beach, heading west. A man lives there; I’ve seen him a couple times; just curious about him.”
Because she’d been looking anywhere but at him, Ororo didn’t notice the piercing gaze her father was giving her. He was listening very intently to her words, and reading between the lines. He wouldn’t scan her mind, so he didn’t quite pick up on the flashes of her memory that went back to the encounter earlier that day, but Charles could tell without his telepathy that there were some unstated emotions beneath her words. “You met someone?”
“No! No, not like that,” Ororo laughed it off, glancing at him quickly several times before regaining her composure. “Well, I kind of ran into him down on the beach several days ago. I think he’s a mutant, but I didn’t ask.”
“Why not?”
As her thoughts went back to that day, she answered honestly, “The opportunity didn’t exactly present itself. I was a little startled, and judging by the reception I got, I don’t think he was in the mood for conversation, exactly.”
“Hm.” Charles seemed deep in thought, continuing to watch her seriously.
“But I ran into him again”today, while we were at the Emporium. Dad, if I didn’t know better…” she trailed off, realizing how silly her statement was going to sound.
“What, Ororo? Go on.” Charles didn’t realize he was holding a breath.
“…nothing. It’s silly. I’m just curious if you know any new families that moved in after I went to college. Does any of this sound familiar?”
Charles chose his words carefully, nodding slowly and meeting her questioning gaze. “I remember a family bought Doc Johnson’s land several years back; probably about the time you were getting your B.A. I think that’s the place you’re talking about.”
She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “And? Is that it?”
Charles kept himself from grinning, maintaining his serious expression. “Well, if you’re asking whether we had tea and crumpets every day, the answer’s No. They kept to themselves quite a bit; you have to respect that sort of thing, considering the price of the real estate out here.”
She laughed a little, knowing the privacy was exactly why her father had bought land in this exclusive part of Southampton. She could understand”especially if they were mutants”why they’d want that sort of solitude. “Thanks dad.”
She kissed his cheek endearingly, sliding off the bed and making her way to the door. Charles watched her, his mind indecisive but outwardly his expression unmoved beyond the affection he held for his daughter. “Ororo.”
She turned, smiling back at him. “Yes?”
“….(changing his mind)…I’ll be down in a little while. I can’t wait for some of your famous lemon bars.”
Grinning like a proud little girl, she blew him a kiss, and quietly closed the door behind her. In the room, Charles stared at the dark mahogany for several seconds, a little surprised. He certainly had not expected that line of questioning from Ororo. He couldn’t believe the set of circumstances that had the two of them crossing paths. Charles wondered to himself if he shouldn’t have just told his daughter the entire truth. Considering what happened the last time he’d withheld important information from her, he was revisiting his lack of honesty just then.
The problem was he couldn’t be sure”with everything that was going on in their lives right then”that pushing Ororo in that direction was the best thing to do. Sighing audibly, he laid back against his pillows, closing his eyes for a spell. Charles only wanted what was best for his beloved daughter, but at the same time he certainly didn’t want to see her go through any more hurt than she’d already been dealt in life. Slightly upset with himself and this new development, he spent the next few moments deep in thought. ‘What now?’
At that moment, Logan and Ben were finishing a fulfilling meal, and dumping the used dishes in the dishwasher. They’d eaten mainly in silence; Ben could tell that after they’d gotten back from the market the Colonel had a lot on his mind. He chalked it up to the next day’s meeting with General Ackens, but unbeknownst to the young soldier, Logan’s thoughts were a million miles away from anything having to do with his superior.
“Hey, you plannin’ on seeing any fireworks, Col.?” Ben’s jovial tone was half a question, half a dare.
“Not on yer life, kid.” Logan almost laughed; Ben had to be kidding. Without thinking, he chided, “When ya ever known me to dabble in that kinda shit?”
Ben didn’t answer, as the two men paused together, their thoughts simultaneously traveling back exactly one year, when little Amahra Howlett had seen her last 4th of July display. It was a Wednesday. Ben remembered visiting the little girl there at her favorite place, her parents’ summer home, where he brought her some sparklers and a little Barbie dressed all in Red White & Blue. She could barely contain her excitement, begging her mother to let her go outside once it was dark, to light up the sparklers and watch the fireworks.
Ben could recall the sad expression in Jean’s eyes, as she carried her sick little girl upstairs to get dressed in a festive outfit, and watch the display with her family one last time. He also remembered the look of pure joy on the child’s face, as her father later lit two of the sparklers in her clinched fist, and they came to life before her face, even as the light was fading from her own eyes.
It was the happiest Ben had seen Amahra in some time. It was the last time he’d seen her alive. She died a few short weeks later.
Looking up, Ben Campbell watched the colonel’s back as Howlett stood in front of the dishwasher, his hand hovering over the button to start it. He’d been sorry to bring it up, but didn’t make any apologies; he knew it was too late for that, anyway. “Uhm, sir, I’m gonna head on out”“
Logan nodded quickly, still not facing him, but turning the dial so the dishes started. He didn’t trust himself to respond; he just let Ben go, waiting until he heard the front door close and the car out front start before he let go of the death-grip he’d had on the counter top.
With a cold bottle of his favorite beer and a fresh cigar in hand, Logan took to the back steps, facing the quiet surf at the back of his property. He didn’t want to think about Amahra right then, but he couldn’t help it. Sitting on a step about halfway down, he lit the cigar and tossed the match to the sand below. After a long drag, he leaned back, his gaze glazing over as memories danced behind his eyes, fighting for attention. He couldn’t get the painful expression that had marred her impish features as she lay dying in his arms out of his head, until suddenly, and without warning, his daughter’s face was replaced with that of another’s. Jean’s beautiful countenance melded with Amahra’s, as the striking similarities between mother and daughter were obvious. Her expression was one more of sympathy than pain or anger, and it made Logan uneasy.
After a moment, he saw her face suddenly erupt into infectious laughter, and she reached down to pluck the now energetic sprite from her feet, kissing the little girl’s cheek with an intimacy that could only result from a mother’s love.
Uncomfortably, he watched the mental images of his ex-wife and his daughter re-materialize before him on the sand only a few yards away. They were dressed similarly in bathing suits, Jean’s a two-piece modest bikini and their little girl in the same green color, but a single-piece with cute white ruffles. Amahra’s dark red curls bounced in the air as she chased her mom around the beach with an inflated crab water toy. Like a movie reel that he didn’t know how to control, the memory blinked before him as the two ghosts splashed down into the water, whipping up the frothy surf at each other and squealing in glee.
Turning away from the ocean, Logan felt his eyes suddenly itch and burn, but attributed it to the smoke of his cigar, as it curled before his face. Blinking furiously, he turned back to the water, where it was quiet once more, save for the occasional lapping of water as the tide came in. Tipping the bottle of booze back with the same hand that held his cigar, Logan took a long gulp, some of the beer rolling down his chin. He closed his eyes to the image of the ghosts and the surf, taking no comfort from either one.
Suddenly, he rose from his perch, leaving his bottle on the step and flicking his cigar in the sand at his feet as he started walking. Away from the house, away from the reel of memories that refused to let him go. He didn’t really know where to go, but Away seemed like a good idea at the time…
TBC…
[Reviews - 223]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Has been viewed 2303 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | - Text Size +
You must login () to review.
