SONS OF THE FATHERS

Chapter 16: The Treasure of Quiet Pleasure (for some, not others)

He was so choked with emotion he could barely speak.  He closed his eyes, taking a series of short breaths.  She looked at his face, so beautiful in the moonlight, then moved her gaze back to Dess, who was rather tucked now between the two of them.  The wonder of it flowed through her.  They were together...together...the three of them.  She smiled. Maximus had not missed the birth of his son.
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It was late. Everyone in the Northern Apartment was making final preparations before retiring for the night.  Suddenly a loud *WHAM* sounded on the outer door.  Himself opened it quickly, stepping back with a gasp when he saw Maximus there, his boot poised for a second kick. Joimus lay in his arms, her head tucked against his shoulder, and nestled atop her chest wriggled a newborn child.  

 

Himself's mouth dropped open...widely...then a slow grin spread across his face.  "Mates!" He called loudly.  "Come see what Maximus has brought home!"  

 

"What is it?" Phyllis asked, tying the sash of her robe as she came out of the master bedroom suite.  

 

Himself opened the door as far as it would go.  The General stood there, bare-chested, his cape wrapped over Joimus...and something... someone...else.  His face looked like the sun when it has finally cleared the mountaintop and shines freely across the morning sky.  

 

"Oh...MY!" breathed Phyllis.  

"Bring them in, Maximus, bring them in!" Franki said, the nurse in her coming to the fore.  

 

"I'll call Stephen," annsmac offered, heading for the small room down the hall where Dr. Maturin had just closed his door moments before. Well, actually, Charles had closed the door...but no matter.  

 

Maximus crossed the room, laying Joimus and Dess with utmost gentleness on the couch.  

 

"How? Where?" Terry asked.  

 

"On the bench by the chair," Maximus replied, not taking his eyes off his family.  

 

"Of course," Terry smiled.  

 

"But how did she GET there?" Nash wanted to know.  

 

Maximus didn't know and right now he didn't care.  All he knew was that his wife, his son, were right there within easy reach of his hand. The rest could wait.  

Stephen came bustling out of his bedroom.  "Baby you say? Where are they?"  He followed annsmac down the hall.  "Let me have a look at this little fellow," he clucked, pulling back some of the folds of the rust-colored tunic.  After examining the baby, he pronounced, "You have a fine, healthy son, Maximus."  Then he looked at Franki.  "I think a little clean-up might be in order, though."

Reluctantly Joimus let Franki take the small bundle from her arms. "And now you," he continued, looking at Joimus.  "Maximus, would you carry her into your bedroom." He winked at her.  "Even in epis a bit of privacy is allowed from time to time, eh?"

Soon she, too, was checked out, pronounced reasonably fit considering what she'd been through, ointments applied to her many scratches and cuts, and the tunic, cape, and gossamer set aside for cleaning and repair. When Joimus was in her nightgown and all tucked into bed, Franki brought her the baby, a bit red-faced from not liking his first washing, but swaddled securely in a new, flannel receiving blanket.  Standing near the bedroom door, Stephen said, "She'll need rest...and a lot of it.  From what I understand, she made her way in the dark, alone, across the entire Botanic Garden whilst in labor."  

Annsmac whispered to Terry.  "Just wait till Bunny hears that! She's due in 2 weeks and heaven only KNOWS where SHE'LL be at the time!"  

Then they left, so Maximus could be alone with his family.  Joimus fed Dess, who cuddled against her, falling fast asleep.  Quietly Maximus slipped into his sleeping clothes and slid in beside them. He was still almost bedazzled, dazed by the sudden change.  He looked from Dess to his own hands, remembering how his son had filled them on his arrival in this world.  Then he reached out, cupping  a large palm around the tiny head.  Closing his eyes, he breathed a prayer that he would be found worthy to be this child's father, to guide him into the ways of becoming a man of honor.  Joimus smiled.  There could be no more glorious sight to her...ever...than that.  

Maximus had left the light in the bathroom on and the door ajar so that he could still see somewhat in the night.  Joimus leaned back into the pillows, so worn she was almost instantly asleep.  He picked up Dess and walked around the bed to the rocking chair near Joimus' side, sitting in it and holding his son, murmuring softly to him in Spanish.  Dess clasped his tiny hand around one of his father's fingers.  Maximus thought his heart would stop beating at his son's touch.  He spent the rest of the night gently rocking, staring back and forth from Joimus to Dess, the full cup of his joy sloshing over the edges of his soul.  He had never quite dared to think life could be this good again.  

Joimus opened her eyes late the following morning, turning her head to find her husband sleeping in the rocking chair.  Though asleep, his arms curled protectively about his tiny son and she noticed how Dess held tightly onto Maximus' finger.   Quickly she blinked back tears.  They fit together, the two of them, and her heart filled with the thought that now she had two Romans to love.  Decimus! How perfect the name...rising up in the middle of his father's...a bridge.  Yes, Dess would be a literal bridge over the General's troubled waters, bringing healing, renewal, into his life...into all their lives.

"He WHAT?" Bunny asking, paling.  

 

"Yep!" Sid said, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.  "He delivered his own son.  The kid slid right out into his hands."  Bunny could practically hear Sid's gears whirring.  He looked at her, his gaze sliding slowly from her face down over the fruitful curve of her belly.  "I've decided to deliver OUR son," he announced.  

 

Bunny sat down hard in the chair behind her. "You...you've...decided?"

 

He nodded.  "I'll get my hands on him first.  He'll be...mine."  

 

She gulped.  "But...but...what of...hospitals?"  

 

"Hah!" Sid snorted.  "That wimpy Captain used one." He tipped his chin sharply upwards.  "But WE...we don't need such cop-outs."  He looked at her sharply.  "DO we?"  

 

She gulped again.  She'd never had a baby before.  How did she KNOW what might happen during the process?  "But...," she began.  

 

"I'll read a book or two, study some pictures" he said.  "You'll be quite fine."  

 

Why, oh, why did she suddenly remember Aubrey's expression when he'd said his line, "Study some...pictures?"  That was how she felt...only worse...much worse.  "Are...are...you equal to the task?" she Master and Commanded.  

 

He looked at her, shocked that she might entertain the least doubt as to his magnificent capability.  "I do this with my own hands," he puffed.  

Maximus awoke, something in him aware of Joimus' gaze.  He yawned, smiling sleepily at her, then leaned forward, placing Dess in her arms. She studied the baby's face in wonder.  The blue of her own eyes had mixed with Maximus' seagreen, making an almost startling aqua coloring in Dess'.  He had a lot of hair for a newborn and it was dark, though not so dark as his father's, having chestnut highlights in it.  He had his father's eyebrows and chin.  Joimus was glad of that!  "He looks like a  miniature Commander of the Armies of the North," she laughed.  

 

Maximus again leaned forward, cocking his head in mock seriousness as he surveyed his son.  "Hmmmm?" he said.  "He doesn't ride all that well yet."  

 

She laughed again, adding, "And his swordwork leaves a bit to be desired."  Looking at her husband fondly, she said, "But, then, you'll take care of that, I expect."

 

 "Not until tomorrow." He nodded his head grandly.  "Today we shall just let him lie around a bit, I think."  

 

Dess began rooting at the soft roundess under the bodice of her nightgown.  "Needs a drink," she chortled, untying the ribbon closure.  

 

"We Romans tend to be thirsty fellows," he continued admiringly as Dess latched on expertly and began to nurse.  Maximus leaned back in the rocker, lacing his fingers together and leaning his chin on them, watching...absolutely entranced.  

As Dess nursed, Joimus sang something very, very soft and low to him.  

 

"What is that?" Maximus asked.  

 

She smiled.  "Just a song that he brings to my mind.  It's called 'Bridge Over Troubled Waters.'"  

 

"Why does that come to your mind?" he asked.  

 

She kissed the baby's forehead.   "He's tiny...now...but like a bridge he spans from shore to shore, from what was to what is." She added, "And we were in the Harbor Bridge when I first told you he was coming. At the time, I didn't know how right that was."  

 

Maximus thought about that for a moment, then with a quiet smile  he got up, coming around the bed and sliding in beside her, leaning close. Dess had had his fill and gone to sleep, his cheek pressed against her breast.  "A wise child," Maximus said, his eyes sparkling.
 

"Like his Papa," she grinned.

He reached up, gently touching a long scratch that crossed her shoulder. "How...?" he asked, his eyes suddenly serious again.  

 

"A hedge," she explained.  "I couldn't find a good way through the hedge."  

 

He locked his eyes on her face, studying the dark circles under her eyes, more scratches on one cheek.   "You found your way back," he murmured, cupping her cheek.  

 

She tipped her head, leaning into his hand. "Not even 187 years could keep me from you." Then she went back to the night she had sat alone in the chair and how she had found the old brooch.  

 

"The pin!" she suddenly cried.  "Oh my gosh! I didn't lose the pin, did I?"  She looked around the room.  "Where is my dress?"  Before he knew what she was up to, she had handed the baby to him and taken two steps away from the bed.  Her knees gave way and she sat down hard on the carpet.  

 

"Ooo!" she said.  "Jelly legs!"  

 

Quickly setting Dess down in the center of the bed, he vaulted over its edge, crouching  beside her.  "I'm all right," she assured him.  "Just a bit weaker and more tired than I realized."

 

Soundlessly, he scooped her up and, leaning back against the pillows, held her across his lap, his arms wrapped tightly about her.  She let herself settle completely into him, closing her eyes, enveloped in the "home" he was to her. He just continued to hold her, resting his cheek against her hair.  Gradually her head slid down the length of his collar bone and he knew that she was asleep.  He kissed her hair then looked down at their son, nestled close to his left thigh.  Was it possible, he wondered, for a man to keep his wife, his son, totally safe?  He closed his eyes, praying for strength, for wisdom.  

As the morning wore on and the sun warmed the air into the upper 60's, several of the cast decided to take advantage of it and go out and about. Laura and Steve had become very fond of the curve of Farm Cove and so they headed there.  Everyone had heard the news of Joimus' safe return and the birth of Dess, so hearts were generally light this day, especially Ando's as she had inhaled a great deal of helium around 9 o'clock. The things that woman did to entertain her Melbourner.  But I digress!  

 

Laura had her hair up in a high ponytail and after a while, due to its great heaviness, took out the band and shook it free.  Steve found the movement incredibly sensual as the rich brownness of it rippled and flowed, falling down her back below her shoulder blades.  He gathered a large section of it in his hand, still amazed by its lush thickness. Together, they sat on the newly-trimmed grass, watching the constant comings and goings of boats in the great harbor.  After a while, Laura lay back on the lawn, observing the large moundings of white clouds. Her hair lay on the grass, curved about her head.  Steve found a short, smooth stick and leaning close, began to run it through her hair, spreading it out into a huge fan.  

 

He was quite absorbed in what he was doing, running the stick carefully, deliberately so that each strand lay just so.  She watched his face, liking the play of shadow on his cheeks from his long lashes, the way he held his mouth, the tilt of his head.  He created a great circle of hair, going from one of her shoulders to the other, fanning out almost two feet from the crown of her head.  Then, grinning with pleasure at his work of art, he stood, backed off a few steps and began to walk around her, taking photographs.  

 

"Am I better than grapes?" she asked with a low laugh.  

 

He moved his camera slightly to one side, looking down at her.  "Never in my life," he said with mock seriousness, "have I met a grape that you are not better than."  

 

"I am relieved to hear it," she replied, nodding her head just enough to ripple his creation.  

 

"Ah," he commented, tipping his head tragically to the sky, "the aching transitoriness of great beauty!"  

 

"Terrible, isn't it?" she agreed, sitting up, completing the destruction.  "Were you finished?" she asked hopefully.  

 

He sat beside her, partially lowering his lids.  "I think I shall never be...finished...where you are concerned."  

Jewelie and Jim sat side by side on a park bench.  "Soon," he said, "very soon now." Then he sighed, knowing if he said such a thing,  by the time it actually got up on Enchantments, it would be ridiculously out of date.  Still, the words had been spoken and could not now be taken back without a great deal of painful backspacing.  So they were left as they were...right there in black and white, though by the time they were posted, the white would most likely be mauve or perhaps puce.  

 

"Yes," Jewelie agreed, a matter of days now until the world will see you kissing that...other... woman, that Mae."

He took her hand.  "Patience, my darling.  Mae will only be with me for a mere two hours of screen time.  You I have forever."  She comforted herself with the memory that at least in most of the lifting up in the air scenes it had actually been Colin and during the hugging scenes it had been Cort.  Having 25 of the RussFolk film the movie in one day did have its good points she was finding out.  (See Toronto Tribulations for how this happened.)

Still, with expert application of CGI, it all would LOOK like Jim and so she would be forced to see him bashed and pounded.  That one picture of him with the bloodied eye really got to her. But, much, much, MUCH worse than any of that was the thought that the all-seeing "eye" atop the tower would turn its gaze in the direction of her Jim and epi-doom would, inevitably, loom upon their horizon.

 

 "I fear our time of flying under the radar is at an end," she sighed.  

 

"Is it not Lachlan who flies under the radar?" he asked.

"No, he's the one who flies under the bridge."  

 

"Ah, right!"  

 

"What do you think she will DO?" she moaned.  

 

"Do you know what movies she's seen of late?" he wondered.  

 

"Well, there was that one about the Crusades," she remembered.  "I think she's seen that one twice, making it especially dangerous."  She studied him seriously.  "What do you know about defending yourself from flaming fireballs?"  

 

"Not all that much," he admitted.  

 

"But there is an even greater danger," she continued with a shudder.

 

"More dangerous than flaming fireballs?" he said, his eyes widening.  

 

"Far," she intoned, looking at him with the utmost grimness.  "Light sabers and lava lakes!"  

 

"She wouldn't!!!" he gasped.  

 

"One baby is born.  The other is coming soon.  She'll have to do... something."  

 

He thought about it.  "We HAVE been in Australia quite a while now."

 

She nodded again,  "Unless Himself does 'Eucalyptus' after all, I fear we may end up in some...other...place."  She looked at Jim seriously once more.  "Have you had any training in becoming a bat, by any chance?"

This, of course, brought Cort to mind.  And the mind happened to be Sue the Vile's.  Not that the young sheriff actually ever had to be BROUGHT to that particular mind.  Indeed, this very mind of which we speak was so entirely occupied with thoughts of a Cortish nature that it had completely forgotten that the body atop which it resided was supposed to have met Ando and the Melbourner at the Circular Quay at 10 for a ferry trip out to South Head.  

"It's downright square!" Ando squeaked, the helium not fully out of her system yet.

"It is NOT!" Hando growled, looking down where he knew the former Welshwoman's true interest lay.  

 

"The COVE!" she squooiked.  "These Aussie's have taken a perfectly good curved cove, made it square, and labeled it 'Circular'."  She frowned. "Why would they DO that?"  

 

"Sydneysiders," he shrugged.  "We Melbourners are much more...," he paused.  

 

"Much more...what?" she squonked.  

 

He wiggled his tongue at her. "Wanna see?"  

 

Just then Sue and Cort dashed up, saving the Quayed couple from certain arrest.  "So," Sue said, "you guys want to go to the Head, eh?"

 

Ando frowned again. Sue was a Brit.  Sue knew such things were called 'loos', not 'heads'.  "Been in the American military, have we?" she commented snidely.  

 

Sue looked at her semi-compatriot blankly, completely Lost...which wasn't all that wild of a stretch as the imaginary flight DID originate in Sydney.  "What do I know of the American military," Sue huffed, "OR American television programming?"  

 

Ando jerked her head toward Cort.  "You have known the American officers of the law, though, have you not?" she leered, indicating that her use of the verb 'to know' was meant in the Biblical sense of the word.  

 

"What ARE we talking about??" Sue demanded, still Lost, still in Sydney.  

 

Cort, finally getting in a rare bit of dialog, leaned forward.  "I think 'she' is making atonement for having been so hard on Maximus of late."  

 

Sue narrowed her eyes at her companion-of-choice.  "I know you know of 'atonement', my dear formerly pastoral personage, but it is not meet that you should speak of Maximus' hardness."  

 

"MEET?" Ando howled.  

 

"Hey," Sue protested, "do you not think I am fully capable of including an archaic word in my sentence structure from time to time?"  

 

"Why is she talking about Maximus' meat?" Hando wanted to know.  

 

"I am NOT talking about Maximus' meat!" Sue hollered, alas loudly enough to frighten a sweet elderly couple buying flowers at a nearby stand. "I'm talking about his hardness!"  

 

"That's hardly suitable, you know," Cort remonstrated.

"That's what I SAID," Sue roared.  

 

"You did not!" Hando interjected.  "You said Maximus had meat."

 

 "He DOES have meat," she moaned, "but I was not discussing it on this remarkably squarish Circular Quay."  

 

"It IS square, isn't it!" Ando said, delighted someone else had noticed.  

 

"It is NOT!" Hando growled again.  

 

Just then the ferry blew its whistle and a man on the gangplank announced loudly, "All aboard for the Head!"  

 

"Do you need to use the loo on the boat?" Ando asked Sue.  

 

"Most certainly NOT!" Sue huffed.  

 

"Then why are we standing here on the Squarish Quay?" Ando queried sensibly.  

 

"I have no idea," Sue replied.  

 

And so the four of them left.