Off Screen: Waiting In The Wings Part 10

Emma shook her head. "I doubt that," she tried to soothe him.

"Ouchie, Mommy," Vicki reached out for Emma.

"I see that," Emma said as Addison let Vicki fall onto Emma.

"Guess what?" Emma whispered to Vicki. Vicki shook her head and pouted. Emma brushed her bangs aside. "That means you get to sit in the sink," Emma said. Vicki's eyes widened. Grandma's sink was huge, and Vicki loved to play in it. "And, it means you get to wear Elmo on your knee." Vicki brightened. Emma took the opportunity to lean over and kiss Addison gently on the lips. "Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," Addison replied. "Do you want me to..."

"No," Emma said. "I'll handle the war wound. Keep your dad company. He looks a bit gray around the gills there," Emma whispered. Addison sighed unconsciously. Emma kissed her cheek. "Behave, and I'll make sure you get an Elmo too."

"I'd rather have your cookies."

Emma winked and started for the kitchen. "Behave."

Addison shook her head lightly and chuckled. "Yeah, yeah," she mumbled.

"Should you..." Adam looked at his daughter.

Addison smiled. "No," she said. "Em's got this one, I think. She goes through phases-Vicki, I mean, not Emma," Addison explained. She saw her father's confusion. "For a while when she first started crawling, when she would lose her steam or get frustrated or b.u.mp into something, she always wanted me. It was kind of funny. Now that she's found her feet, when she loses them she seems to want Emma.

"You don't seem all that worried," Adam observed.

Addison was ready to pounce on her father. She opened her mouth to defend herself and realized he was still worried. She sighed. Adam Blake was a mystery to her. If her mother were here, she would have understood. "She's okay," Addison said. "It's not the first b.u.mp, and it won't be the last." Adam nodded. "If you're that worried," Addison said. "Why don't you go see for yourself while I get my stuff from the car?"

"Don't you need help?" he asked.

"Nah, go on. You won't feel better until you do," Addison said.

Part of Addison understood her father's concern. The first significant b.u.mp Vicki had garnered had occurred on Addison's watch. Vicki had been kicking against Addison's stomach excitedly, and Addison had lost hold of her. Thankfully, it had been a short fall, broken by a soft carpet, but Vicki had sported a nice b.u.mp on her head for the next week. Addison had been guilt-ridden. She had expected Emma to be furious. It surprised her when Emma had expressed greater concern for Addison's emotional state than the b.u.mp on their daughter's head. Addison sometimes forgot that Emma was accustomed to dealing with childhood injuries. She'd seen everything from scratches to crutches with her brothers and her nieces and nephews. It wasn't that Emma never worried. She just never reacted with alarm. Addison had learned to take cues from Emma over the last few years. The less she panicked, the more secure Vicki felt when an inevitable boo-boo occurred or the occasional cold took hold. She smiled at him genuinely and nodded in the direction of the kitchen. He offered her a half-hearted smile and headed off.

"Hey! You're here early," the front door swung open again.

"Hi, Dad," Addison greeted her father-in-law.

"Couldn't stay away, huh?" he joked.

Addison smiled. Tom Bronson had become like a father to her. In some ways, that thrilled Addison. In other ways, it hurt her deeply. It often reminded her of what was lacking in her relations.h.i.+p with her father.

"They know you are here yet?" he asked her.

Addison nodded. "Yeah, they're tending to the munchkin's latest war wound."

Tom chuckled. "She certainly is a handful," he commented.

Addison beamed. "She likes adventure," she said.

"I'll say. You know, Emmie was a bit like that as a kid as I recall. I always sort of thought it was because she wanted to keep up with whatever the boys were doing. Not so sure that mattered," he laughed. "She's one of the only girls in our entire family. There was no way she was going to be left out of anything."

"Well, I'd say Vicki takes after her. Sometimes I think she thinks that she is thirteen not three."

Tom laughed. "Oh, trust me when she gets to be thirteen you'll be thinking she is acting like she's three," he offered. Addison grinned. She didn't doubt that at all. "Since they're all busy, why don't you come out to the old barn? I want to show you my latest project."

Addison nodded. Emma and her mother had taken to calling her father, Tinkering Tom. Since he retired, he seemed to have endless projects going. Addison enjoyed spending time with him. He was a gifted carpenter. It had always been his hobby. Addison often thought he should make it into a new business. He loved it, and she was sure he could sell his creations for a pretty penny. "What are you building? The new Ark out there or something," she asked.

"Don't laugh. I might," he said as he opened the door for her.

"The scary part of that, Dad is that I actually believe it."

Tom laughed and fell in line with Addison's stride. "You know, I could build it to scale, and you and Emmie could make a movie on it."

Addison shook her head. "A lesbian ark, huh?"

"Two of everything, they said."

Addison jabbed her father-in-law playfully. "You should be a comedian." He shrugged. Addison suddenly felt a hundred pounds lighter. She was still feeling apprehensive about a week with her father close by. But, she had an escape. This was her family. They had chosen her as much as she had chosen Emma. If Adam Blake couldn't fill the role she desired, the man beside her would do everything he could to walk in those shoes. "Thanks, Dad," Addison said.

Tom winked. "Don't thank me yet, Addy. I haven't shown you what I'm working on yet."

Emma patted Vicki's knee dry and slapped an Elmo Band-Aid across it for good measure. She captured a glimpse of Addison's father in the doorway.

Vicki smiled and chewed on the chocolate chip cookie her grandmother had given her. "Down!" Vicki demanded. Emma lifted a brow. Vicki grinned. "Pwease?"

"Better," Emma said.

"Finds Momma," Vicki declared.

Emma looked out the window that sat above the sink. "I think Grandpa stole Momma, Sprout."

Vicki looked up at Emma harshly. Emma giggled. "Not really, sweetheart. I think he is taking her out to the barn." Vicki grabbed hold of Emma's hand and tugged. "Yes?" Emma asked her.

Vicki huffed. "Mommy, pwease?"

Emma smiled. "Give me one minute. You wait for me by the door, and we will go find Momma, okay?" Vicki toddled off eating her cookie happily. She gave her grandfather a small wave as she pa.s.sed by.

"She seems okay," he commented.

Emma snickered. "She got a cookie and an Elmo bandage that she doesn't need. She's better than okay."

He nodded. "I am sorry, Emma. She just took off..."

Emma grasped his arm and squeezed lightly in rea.s.surance. "She does that," she said with a wink. "If I don't get moving, she'll probably be halfway to the barn," she joked. She saw Adam's face transform into fear and laughed. "Not really. I'm faster than I look," she said, making her way out of the room.

Sherry looked over at Adam and smiled. "Gave you a little scare, huh?" He smiled as best he could. "I have the perfect remedy."

"Oh?"

"Yep. Cookies. They aren't Emma's, I'm afraid," she teased. "But, since I taught her, I imagine they'll pa.s.s the test." Sherry gestured to Adam to have a seat.

Adam glanced out the window to see Emma holding Vicki's hand as they walked to the barn that sat at the back of Sherry and Tom's property. With the back door open, the sound of Vicki's voice yelling for her momma was clear. Addison emerged from the barn, and Vicki took off from Emma like a bullet from a gun.

"She's quick," he said, riveted to the display unfolding outside. Addison was walking slowly toward the awkwardly sprinting toddler. Vicki nearly tumbled a couple of times before she was able to reach Addison. He shook his head. "She certainly is determined."

"Mm," Sherry looked out the window. "She's a lot like both of them," she said with a chuckle. "She missed Addison," Sherry said with a smile.

Adam sat down at the table and looked at Sherry curiously. "Addy looks tired," he commented.

Sherry took a seat across from him. She smiled when he dove in for a cookie. She wondered how the two could not see how alike they were, and how much both craved the acceptance of the other. "I imagine she is tired," Sherry agreed. "From what Emma says, she and Jeff have been putting in long hours trying to get this new show off the ground."

"I thought it was a movie?" he said.

"I don't know. To tell you the truth, I don't pay as much attention to that part of their life as I probably should," Sherry confessed. "I know that part of Emma misses working."

"She doesn't want to be an actress anymore?" he inquired.

"I think she does. I don't think it's the acting part that she wants a break from. I think it's everything that goes along with it," she explained. "And, she would miss being with the kids," she smiled.

"It will be kids pretty soon," Adam said.

"You sound surprised," Sherry observed.

"I don't know. Let's face it; I'm not anyone to talk about parenting."

"Why is that?"

Adam sighed. "Addy's mom did all of that. I was traveling most of the time. She handled all the tough parts. I got to share the cookies," he tried to joke.

Sherry nodded. She understood what Adam was trying to convey. Tom had not been as active in their children's young lives as he was now. He played with them. He even disciplined them. But, he had not been the one to bandage the skinned knees and console the broken hearts. That had been Sherry. Sometimes, it amazed her to see the transformation in her husband. He was extremely hands-on with all of his grandchildren, teaching them carpentry, taking them fis.h.i.+ng, telling them stories, and listening to everything they had to say. He'd changed more than a few diapers, dried a host of tears, and picked up the pieces of his grandchildren's disappointments often. And, he had become both a friend and a mentor to their children as well.

Sherry suspected she knew the demon taunting Adam-the past. The more time she spent with Addison's father, the more she saw the ghost of regret. Adam was unsure how to be the thing he desired to be most-a father. The tough parts.

"Cookies cure a lot of ills," Sherry offered. His sad smile twisted her heart. She took a deep breath and decided to approach the elephant in the room. "You know, she misses you," Sherry said.

Adam's eyes lifted doubtfully. "She barely knows me. They've only visited..."

"Not Vicki-Addison."

Adam sighed heavily. "I doubt that."

"Do you?" she questioned him. Adam looked back at her fearfully. Sherry nodded. "Just like Vicki ran to Addison just now. That's really what she wants to do. She wants to be able to run to you."

Adam shook his head. "I've never been good at that."

"What's that?" she asked. He cast his gaze downward. "The tough parts?" Sherry guessed. "Well, the tough parts can be uncomfortable. That's for sure," she said. "It's hard to watch your kids in pain and know that no matter what you say or do, it's just something they have to go through."

"I don't think Addy thinks very highly of me," he said. "Probably with good reason."

"Mm. I'm not so sure about that," Sherry said.

"You know, when her mother got sick, she refused to tell Addy right away," he said.

Sherry was curious. She knew that Addison's mother's sickness had progressed quickly. She could see the deep sadness in Adam's eyes as his thoughts drifted back in time. One thing had become apparent to her in the last day; Adam Blake loved his daughter. Addison might have doubted that. The truth was written in his expression every time he looked at his granddaughter, each time Emma spoke Addison's name, or Vicki asked for her momma. She could sense that Adam needed to release his regrets and his fears. She had experienced something similar with Emma's father. Tom's evolution had been gradual. He had never been dismissive of his children, but he had been strict bordering on confining in his discipline. And, for many years his outspoken conservatism had led all three of his children to believe that they would inevitably disappoint their father. Emma had experienced that the least. Sherry suspected that had a great deal to do with her being the only daughter. There was a degree of truth in the old saying that fathers revered their daughters. She waited patiently for Adam to continue, knowing that he would.

Adam looked at Sherry and shook his head. "She was afraid that Addy would insist on coming home if she found out." He smiled. "Addy was always dreaming big," he mused. "Always creating stories about distant places. She had some whoppers as a kid," he recalled affectionately.

Sherry smiled. She's listened to both Addison and Emma when they would weave tales for Vicki. They were both imaginative and emotional women. Living in small town America often conjured big dreaming. There were advantages to small town life. At least, Sherry thought so. She had never had to worry about her children riding their bikes down the street or walking to a friend's house. While things had changed somewhat, she was grateful that most of her grandchildren still lived in that reality. She could see how her grandsons marveled at Aunt Emma's big city life. And, she wondered how Vicki and the newest addition to their family might view the world. Emma and Addy's children would be exposed to both realities.

"I think that's a product of country living a lot of times," Sherry said.

Adam smiled. "Probably so," he said. "It wasn't easy for Addy," he recalled. "I mean that she didn't have any brothers or sisters. Where we lived, there were not many children her age. Vicki tried to get her out to places to meet kids and make friends. We'd hoped... but, well, it doesn't always work out that way," he said. Sherry offered him an understanding smile. "She spent most of her days with her mother until she went to school. Even then, Addy seemed to like to come home. I always thought it was funny the way she would talk about seeing the world, and lots of times Vicki would have to push her to go spend time with her friends."

"Well, there are reasons for everything," Sherry interjected. "Sounds like she was fortunate to have such a close relations.h.i.+p with her mother."

"We both were," Adam said. "I hated not telling Addison," he said.

Sherry took a deep breath. "Adam?"

Adam shook his head as tears filled his eyes. "She got the diagnosis the week we dropped Addy off," he said. Sherry closed her eyes. "I know. She'd hoped that she wouldn't need to worry Addison. But... It was only a few months, and it became clear that things were progressing."

"I'm sorry."

"I begged her to tell Addy. I should have. I know I should have. She was adamant. Addison had friends. She would call home every night and tell Vicki about what she was doing. She had brought Tamara home. They seemed to be joined at the hip. She just..."

Sherry smiled. "She knew Addison would need that to move on," she said. He sighed and nodded. Sherry reached across the table and took his hand. "I understand."

"She'll never forgive me."

"I doubt that," Sherry said, surprising Addison's father. "I think you might be surprised."

"She'll be furious that she wasn't given a choice."

"Probably," Sherry agreed. Adam sighed. "But," she continued, reaching for his hand again. "I'm not sure it will be with you."

"That's worse."

Sherry smiled and squeezed Adam's hand. "Have a little faith in her. She loved her mother. Something tells me your revelation will not surprise her as much as you think it will."

"I don't even know how to..."

"Well, once I grew up, whenever my father wanted to tell me something he knew I wouldn't like, he always started by taking me out for a beer," Sherry laughed.

"I don't think I've ever had a beer with Addy."

"Good time to change that then," Sherry suggested. "And, if you need consolation later, I'm certain Emma will have cookies waiting."