Chapter 10

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October 3, 2006

"Happy Birthday, Daddy!"

Kevin looked up from the scrapbook and scowled. "Where’s Rachel? You two should be in bed."

This had been a mistake from the beginning, he thought. He should never have listened to Mac. The papers he needed to sign could have been sent to LA just as easily as not. And the timing couldn’t have been worse. Once Tim found out that he was going to be here in October, he had insisted that they get together for his birthday.

"We wanted to give you your birthday presents, Daddy", Jemma said with a shy smile.

"Not now", he frowned, refilling his glass from the bottle on the kitchen table.

"But Daddy...today’s your birthday", Aaron grinned. "We gotta give you your presents today!"

"I said not now!", he snapped. "Just get to bed!"

Rachel hurried in at the sound of raised voices and took in the scene before her. Jemma was close to tears, and Aaron was already sobbing. Kevin looked up at her with his habitual alcohol-fogged gaze.

"Why the hell aren’t these kids in bed?", he growled.

She bit back the answer she wanted to fling at him, and instead focused on the children. "Jemma? Come on, honey. Daddy’s not feeling well right now. You can leave your present here. He’ll open it when he’s feeling better." She glared at him, daring him to contradict her. She knelt down by Aaron and pulled him into her embrace. "It’s okay, Aaron. Let’s go upstairs to bed."

"What about the cake?", he sobbed.

"I don’t think Daddy can eat any cake right now, honey. Remember he’s not feeling very good. Youdon’t like to eat cake when your tummy hurts, do you?"

"No", he mumbled into her shoulder.

"We’ll have some tomorrow when Uncle Tim and Aunt Tracy are here, okay?"

"Okay", he sniffled. "Good night, Daddy", he said softly. "Feel better."

Rachel stared at Kevin, but he refused to respond to Aaron. She gathered the boy up in her arms and, taking Jemma’s hand, led her out of the room.

Kevin stared after them and knocked back half of the contents of the glass in front of him.

* * *

Jemma stood patiently by the bed as Rachel tucked Aaron in. She looked up at Rachel. "Will Daddy feel better in the morning, Rachel?" she asked softly. "The last time he didn’t feel good like this, he didn’t feel any better in the morning."

"When was that sweetheart?" Rachel asked as she smoothed down Jemma’s blonde curls.

"When we had the party by the pool, and Daddy and Uncle Jerry got mad at each other. I came downstairs later and saw Daddy sitting in the den, holding his head. And the next morning, you told me that we had to be quiet and let him sleep because he didn’t feel good. Remember?"

"Yes, honey. Now I do." Rachel’s heart ached for her. She’d had no idea that Jemma had seen Kevin drunk back in August. She leaned over and kissed Aaron good night. He wrapped his arms around her neck, kissed her cheek and whispered, "G’night, Rachel. Sleep tight."

"And don’t let the bed bugs bite", Rachel finished with a smile, tapping his nose with her finger. He grinned up at her and turned over as his eyes closed. Rachel dimmed the light and pulled his bedroom door closed enough to block the hallway light from his eyes. She and Jemma continued down the hallway to Jemma’s room.

As Jemma climbed into bed, she looked up into Rachel’s eyes and asked. "Do you think my Daddyloves me, Rachel?"

Rachel sat on the edge of the bed and searched Jemma’s face. "Yes, I do, Jemma. And I know that sometimes it might seem like he doesn’t. But sometimes people have trouble showing someone how much they love them. And the more they love and the harder they try to show it, the harder it is to do. Does that make any sense to you?"

Jemma thought for a minute. "You mean like when Ri does something that really makes me mad, but I know he didn’t mean it. And I still love him, but I can’t show it cause I’m so mad?"

Rachel smiled down at her and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Yes, honey. Very much like that."

But instead of bringing a smile to Jemma’s face, Rachel’s answer seemed to push her deeper into thought. "Then what did I do to make him so mad, Rachel?", she whispered.

"I don’t know, sweetheart", she said softly as she hugged her close. "I don’t think you did anything. Sometimes grownups just don’t make sense."

"Maybe he’d feel better if I didn’t bother him so much", Jemma said. "I shouldn’t have asked him to open his present." She snuggled down into the covers, and Rachel brushed Jemma’s hair back from her forehead and leaned down again to kiss her cheek. She didn’t trust her voice to continue the conversation.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Rachel walked back into the kitchen.

"What do you think you’re doing?" she said acidly. "Or maybe that’s the problem-you’re not thinking!" He hunched his shoulders and turned away, trying to ignore her.

"It’s not that easy, Kevin." He glanced up at her use of his first name. She hadn’t ever called him anything other than Mr. Richardson-or had she?

"There’s a little boy upstairs", she continued. "Who doesn’t understand why the man he calls Daddy won’t touch him. He knows how Daddies are supposed to act. He’s seen his Uncle Jerry and his Uncle Tim with their sons. And he knows that little boys are supposed to love their Daddies, because his cousins love their Dads. But he doesn’t know how to love you, because you won’t let him!"

Kevin mumbled something into his glass and took another swallow. She shook her head.

"And how many times do you think you can push Jemma away before she shuts you out of her life completely?" she persisted. "Or maybe that’s what you’re trying to accomplish. It is?" He didn’t respond. "Because, let me tell you, you don’t have far to go. She needs a father. But you’re going to lose her."

Kevin stared into his glass. "I’ve lost everybody else-why not her?"

"Oh stop it! Everybody’s lost someone. You’re not unique!" Rachel picked up the bottle of scotch and thumped it back down on the table. "If you’d crawl out of this damned bottle and take a look around, you might find there’s more to life than self-pity!"

"I don’t have to listen to this. Leave me alone!"

"Yes, you do have to listen to this! A big part of your problem is that you’ve told everybody to leave you alone, and they’ve slunk out of sight just because Mr. High-and-Mighty Backstreet Boy says so. You’re so alone now that it wouldn’t matter if there were fifty people in the house! Damn it! Your children need you!"

"Shut up!"

"Why, Kevin? Because you can’t face the fact that you’ve screwed up?"

There was a deafening silence. Kevin looked up at her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I seem to remember a very public declaration about how you’d be very happy if you could be half the man your father was as a husband, a father and a friend. Well, you did the husband part-and did it very well, from what I can gather. And as a friend, I guess you’ve shown that you care. At least you used to. But as a father-you haven’t even taken the first baby steps! You don’t know the first thing about your son or your daughter."

"Yes I do!", he growled. He picked up the scrapbook. "What do you think this is? My mother-."

"Your mother made a pathetic attempt to give your children back to you after everything else she tried had failed!" Rachel said coldly. "Your children aren’t in that book. They’re upstairs ready for a bedtime story. They’re sitting at the dining room table waiting for you to say grace. They’re in the backyard begging you to push the swing higher." She paused. "And you’re not there."

He lurched to his feet and the chair tipped over. "Get out of here!", he yelled. "You’re fired!"

Rachel blanched, but said evenly, "Fine. I’ll pack my things and be out of here tomorrow."

"You’ll leave tonight-now!" He yanked his checkbook out of his jacket and wrote furiously. "Here’s your severance pay!"

"No, Kevin", she said firmly. "I’ll be leaving in the morning-after I’ve said goodbye to Jemma and Aaron. They’ll be upset, but at least they’ll know that I cared enough to say goodbye. I’m not going to sneak out of here the way you do. And at least if I’m gone, you’ll be forced to stay here and deal with them. Maybe something good will come of that."

He was towering over her, and she stared up at him. He needed to be in charge again. He couldn’t let her continue to say these things to him. He hated her for making him feel. Feel things he didn’t want to feel. He looked down at her. He could break her in half. He was breathing hard, trying to control his rage. And all she did was continue to look at him with those accusing eyes. He gripped her arms above the elbows. She winced in pain, but said nothing.

"You have no right to talk to me that way", he snarled.

"I’m not your employee any more. You fired me", she shot back at him. Rachel had never seen him like this before. But something told her that this was what was needed. If he couldn’t get angry with Kristin and his mother, then he needed to get angry with her. So she pushed on.

"I can say whatever I please. Get used to it, Kevin. In a very short while, everybody you know will be talking to you like this. Because they’re going to get fed up with it, just like I am. Now let go of me, before I have reason to call the police!"

His eyes burned into hers and she glared back at him. He needed to stop her from talking like this. He needed her to stop looking at him like that. He needed her." Suddenly something almost like a sob escaped from deep inside him, and his lips came down on hers-hard. He crushed her to his chest and his arms wrapped around her roughly. Rachel stiffened in shock and tried to push him away, but he had pinned her arms against her sides.

Rachel’s mind was whirling in turmoil. This is madness, she thought. This has to stop. And then slowly, Rachel felt herself giving way to feelings that she had hidden even from herself. She loved his children. And her desire to help him past his grief and back to them had become something else, something more, in the last months. She had committed the ultimate sin for someone in her position. She had allowed herself to become emotionally attached to him. As she surrendered, as her mouth opened to his tongue demanding entrance, his grip eased up and his anger turned to passion. She moaned slightly as he began to caress her back.

I can’t do this! This isn’t going to help him! She pushed away, and he gazed down at her with a crooked grin on his face.

"Why didn’t you say that’s what you wanted?" he smirked.

He saw it coming, but the alcohol had slowed his reaction time. The grin died on his lips and he tried to step back as her hand connected with his face. The slap echoed in the quiet room.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she said quietly. "And that brings us right back to square one. You’re not thinking." She paused and looked him in the eye. Do it Rachel. Do it now. She took a deep breath. "You’d better be awake tomorrow by nine. I’ll be leaving then." She turned on her heel and walked out of the room. The trip up the stairs was the longest walk she had ever taken, but she managed to hold it together until she closed the door to her room.

Kevin stood staring after her, left with the sting of her hand on his cheek and the taste of her mouth on his lips. He righted the chair and slowly sank back into it. He dropped his head onto his arms, folded on the table.

"Oh, God. What have I done now?" he whispered to the silent room.

Chapter 11
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