The Visit
Date: 10 Nov 1997

SPOILER ALERT: Really Big Spoiler Alert for Redux II. If you haven't seen
it, turn back now.
Category: A, A and more A, also V for vignette
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I love them, they don't know me, we're a happy . . . oh,
yeah, forgot there a moment. No copyright infringement intended, and I
didn't ask permission, but will so many gaps to fill, what did they expect?
Summary: What was Samantha thinking about when her father called to
arrange the meeting?
Archive: please post anywhere you want as long as my name is attached.
comments to me: vmoseley@fgi.net

The Visit (1/1)
by Vickie Moseley
vmoseley@fgi.net

I didn't want to go. I told Father that. But he was so insistent, so
persuasive. He's always been able to get his way with me, and if I didn't
love him so much, that would probably annoy the hell out of me. But I know
he's always got my best interests at heart, so I finally agreed.

I just never expected it would be so soon.

He called just after I'd put Jessica down for her nap. She's such a hard
one to get down, has more energy than the other two put together. I
watched her for a few minutes, wondering when the fawn colored peach fuzz
on her head would turn to the thick brown hair that graced her older sister
and brother. She's only 8 months old, after all.

The phone rang, and for a moment, I thought it would be Jay. He'd said he
might be able to come home for lunch, sneak in a little quiet time while
Jessie slept and Grace and Stevie were at school. I was surprised to hear
Dad's voice so soon after we had talked.

"Did my best girl get to sleep?" he asked, his voice sounding husky. One
of these days, I'm going to ask him to quit smoking and he won't just laugh
at my concern.

"I thought _I_ was your `best girl'," I answered, letting him know I was on
to his tricks. Gracie had told me that she was `Grandpa's best girl' the
last time he'd taken her for ice cream.

"Can't an old man have more than one `best girl'?" he asked, and for a
second, I thought I might have hurt his feelings. Then he chuckled
lightly. "Besides, I have to share all of you with Jay," he added.

"I guess I'll forgive you being greedy, then," I replied. "So, what did
you forget to tell me this morning that couldn't wait until you came over
for supper tonight?"

I heard him sigh, and wondered what I'd said. He was quiet for a while,
and I felt a strange nervousness come over me. "Daddy. What is it?"

"I've found him." He didn't have to tell me who `he' was--he had found my
half brother, Fox.

"Daddy, I thought you said you just had some leads," I said, trying to tamp
down the bile suddenly rising in the back of my throat.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. I didn't want to upset you. But I need you
to do me a favor, Mary Grace," he said. He used my full name, the name
that I've come to use. The name he called me the first time he saw me that
I can remember. It was his mother's name.

"What do you need me to do, Daddy," I asked, afraid. I knew what he
wanted, but I don't know if I could give it to him.

"Sweetheart, he wants to meet you. Tonight."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Daddy! Not tonight! I can't possibly go
tonight. Jay has a board meeting late and there'd be no one here to watch
the kids. And I promised Margie that I'd help her hem a dress she's
wearing to some charity thing Robert is dragging her to--Daddy, I can't do
it tonight," I said, breathless and defiant.

"Sweetheart. I need you."

He really didn't have to say the words, I knew he did. And I knew that in
the end, I'd arrange with Margie for her to take the kids and find
something in the freezer to heat up for Jay--

"When do I have to leave?" I asked, my mind spinning on the tasks I had to
accomplish before I left the house.

"I have a car coming for you now. We'll leave in an hour."

"Daddy! That is too soon--"

"I'll have someone there to watch Jessie, Sweetheart. And Gracie and
Stevie will be picked up on time. Remember my secretary, Nancy? She's all
ready--"

"They won't release the children to a stranger, Dad," I said angrily. I
rarely loose my temper with my father, but I saw this as a major exception.

"Of course not, Mary Grace," he snapped, then I could hear him take a few
breaths. "Call the school. Alert the teachers that the children are being
picked up by a family friend because of an emergency."

"Is that what I'm supposed to tell Jay?" I demanded, still stinging from
the tone of his voice.

"Tell Jay the truth. You owe him that. What have I always told you,
Sweetheart--never lie to the ones you love."

The anger in my heart cooled considerably. "Are you coming with me?" I
hated the sound of my voice--I sounded like an eight year old.

"Of course, Sweetheart. You know I will be there, right beside you. But
you have to meet with him by yourself. It's only fair."

"All right, Daddy. As long as I know you're nearby."

Jay was more understanding than I would have been. He even agreed to take
his lunch late so that he could pick up the kids at school. He told me he
loved me, and that he'd be there when I got home. Home from Washington,
DC. I told him to keep the bed warm and I'd see him later. I don't think
I've ever missed him as much in all the time we've been married as I did
when I hung up Dad's cell phone.

It was a long flight, over four hours, and I got more nervous the closer we
got.

"Do you know anything about him, Daddy?" I asked, when the plane landed for
refueling in Columbus, Ohio.

"I know some things. What do you want do know?"

I remembered so little of my life before I was eight. I knew that my name
had been Samantha, a name I've grow to despise. I knew next to nothing
about the brother I thought had died the night I was taken from my home. I
decided to stick to safer subjects. "Is he married?" I asked. A simple
question.

"No, he's not," my father answered. "But he has someone in his life, if
that's what has you concerned. Someone he loves, who loves him, I would
dare say."

"They aren't married?" I asked, then thought for a moment. "Unless--he's
not--"

Dad seemed to find humor in my train of thought. "He's not gay,
Sweetheart. The woman is his partner. They work together. Their line of
work is dangerous. They're FBI agents and I assume that has a lot to do
with why they aren't married. That, and she's been ill recently." He must
have seen the concerned look on my face because he quickly added "but
she's going to be fine."

I bit my lip at that. It sounded confident, but he said it in a hurry. I
knew my father. He seemed to be hedging a little.

"What will I say to him?" I asked, and I didn't want to cry, but couldn't
help myself.

"What ever you want, Sweetheart. He's been looking for you a very long
time. But you must understand, there are things he has been lead to
believe."

I didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

He swallowed and I knew he wanted a cigarette. It was selfish of my, but I
was glad he couldn't have one. He'd have to answer my question instead.
"He's been told lies. He thinks of me--he sees me as the enemy. He
doesn't understand about his mother--your mother and me. He sees us in a
bad light. He thinks of our relationship as a betrayal to his father. I
can understand that, really, but he's not thinking clearly, he doesn't have
all the facts. He'll try to convince you--" He stopped and looked out the
window. "He'll tell you that I've lied to you, Mary Grace. I just don't
want you to get caught up in his lies."

I couldn't believe there were tears in his eyes as he turned back to me.
He looked so lost. So afraid that one meeting with a man I've no real
recollection of could possibly tear the two of us apart. I took his hand
in mine.

"Don't worry, Daddy. Nothing he could possibly say would ever turn me
against you. If he's deluded enough to think ill of you, well, I don't
know if I want him in my life. I have the children to think of. Can't
have him coming in and tearing up their lives, too, now can I?"

"No, sweetheart. There has been enough heartache in this family already,"
he said, and we held hands all the rest of the flight.

the end.