PART THREE
"What?"
Sydney walked over to her father so she could see his face.
"She's gone," he repeated.
The words, though said in a low voice, screamed in Sydney's ears. But even as she silently cursed her mother for deceiving them again, and herself for almost falling into her web all over again, she noticed that her father didn't seem bothered by his revelation at all.
"What do you mean 'gone'?" Sydney finally asked.
"She had to leave before sunrise, to avoid detection. The house is still under surveillance at times and we can't risk her being here during the day," Jack explained, turning around just in time to see the anger on Sydney's face. In an effort to hide her unwarranted anger toward her mother, she brushed past him and went over to the refrigerator, retrieving a juice container. She muttered quietly, "This family."
Turning around, she found herself on the receiving end of her father's disapproving glare. Feeling chastised, she quickly turned away again and took her juice to the table.
Jack, though angry at Sydney for being so ready to believe the worst of her mother, refused to dwell on those pessimistic thoughts and decided to drop the topic for now. "I made your eggs scrambled. I remember you used to like them that way. I hope it's alright."
~*~
Irina quietly opened the backdoor and entered the kitchen. Her clothes were soaking wet after standing in the rain for almost an hour, making sure it was safe to enter the house. She was greeted with the familiar tunes of Liszt's Sospiro filling the air, and she smiled. She'd always loved that piece. Shivering from cold, she took her shoes off and carried them, silently made her way upstairs to the bedroom. She needed to change out of her wet clothes. Opening several drawers, she took out a towel and some clothes, which she then laid on the bed. Wrapping the towel around her long dark hair, she squeezed most of the water into the soft fabric. Then she started to put on the clothes she'd chosen, grateful that she'd accepted Jack's offer to store some of her things at the house when they'd first started working together.
When she came back downstairs, she saw the door to Jack's study partly open and went in. He was sitting behind his desk, going over papers and completely unaware of the rest of the world. She approached him slowly, trying not to startle him, and succeeded when he acknowledged her presence by looking up. She smiled at his appearance, thinking that he looked ready to eat, dressed in faded jeans and a black turtleneck.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Getting up from behind the desk, Jack closed the distance between them. Giving Irina a quick kiss, he reached to touch her still damp hair. "Your hair's all wet."
"Yeah," she said. She pointed out to the window. "It's raining."
Jack followed her finger and noticed that it was pouring outside. The analytical part of his brain quickly made a conjecture on how long she'd been forced to stay in the rain and realizing it wasn't a matter of minutes he frowned. "You should get something warm to drink. How does tea sound?"
Irina nodded in acquiescence before leaning closer for a longer and more thorough kiss. Finally separating, they rested their foreheads together for a moment, catching their breaths before Jack quietly told her that Sydney was in the living room, waiting. Irina nodded again and, after a one more brush with her lips on his, she left the room.
Leaning against the wall, Irina took a moment to study her daughter before entering the room. Sydney was sitting in the recliner, with her nose in a book. Stepping into the room, Irina smiled. Sydney was so like her in many ways, including her love for literature.
Now alerted to her mother's presence, Sydney raised her eyes from the text and marked her place before closing it.
"Hi," Irina greeted.
"Hey."
Her smile wavering, Irina sat down and waited for Sydney to take the lead. But as the silence stretched on, she let her gaze wander around the room, trying to think of a way to open a conversation.
"What were you reading?"
"The Cherry Orchard," Sydney answered. "But I wasn't really making any progress. I think I read the same paragraph six or seven times without comprehending any of it. I've been a little. preoccupied."
Irina nodded her understanding. Sydney was bound to have lots of questions that demanded answers. And that's what Irina was there for. To give her those answers to the best of her ability.
The two women looked up when Jack cleared his throat softly and entered the room, carrying a single cup with steaming tea. Bringing it over to Irina, he encouraged her to drink it to keep warm. She smiled her thanks and took a careful sip of the hot liquid. As the women watched, Jack went over to the stereo and took out the CD that had been playing and replaced it with another. Both Irina and Sydney realized that watching him was a stalling technique on their part, but neither complained.
When the soft music began to fill the room, Sydney listened to it for a while before recognizing it as Handel's. She also saw the look that was exchanged by her parents. Something was said between them through the music, but just what that something was, Sydney didn't know.
As the seconds passed and threatened to turn into minutes, Sydney watched her parents communicating silently. Although intrigued by what she was witnessing, she was starting to feel excluded. Shifting uncomfortably in her recliner, she unavoidably reminded her parents of her presence. And while she was glad they remembered she was in the room with them, the loss of connection between them was tangible, and Sydney was regretful to have that pass.
For a moment Jack's eyes shifted to the floor to avoid the eyes of both his wife and daughter. Then, looking up, he announced that he would be in the in the kitchen, heating leftovers from the night before. As he started to leave, he gestured in Irina's direction with his hand. "Don't forget to drink that while it's still warm."
Irina looked at the already forgotten cup in her hands and smiled, "Right." As Jack was passing her, she grabbed his hand, effectively stopping him.
Tilting her head back to meet his eyes, Irina's fingers gently caressed the hand she was holding. Tugging his hand, she invited him to get closer. As he did, she kissed his cheek.
"Thank you," she said, her voice reflecting her affection.
Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Jack smiled and nodded, before releasing her hand and moving away.
Only when they heard Jack making noises in the kitchen did Irina direct her attention to Sydney again.
"How long are you staying this time?"
Bending her head down for a moment, Irina adjusted to the sudden change in the atmosphere.
"Alright, I deserved that," she finally said. She raised her head to face Sydney's stare. "If you mean tonight, I will be gone by dawn." At Sydney's hurt expression she elaborated, "But I want to be part of your life, if you'll let me."
Sydney fell silent, unsure of her reaction to those words.
"Sydney," Irina tried again, "I know you must have questions. about a lot of things. I'd like to answer them. anything at all that you want to know. All you have to do is ask."
Her daughter continued to stare at her silently.
"Sydney?"
"Did you know that Neil Caplan's wife was SVR?" Sydney finally asked. "She gave herself up to help her husband. Her first instinct was to protect the lives of her family."
Feeling as though she had been kicked in the stomach, Irina looked at her daughter, unable to believe what she was hearing, the unspoken questions ringing in her ears: Why didn't you turn yourself in? Why did you destroy our family?
When she spoke, Irina's voice was quivering a little, "Elsa Caplan was lucky. She had a choice."
"And you didn't?" Sydney immediately shot back.
"Yes, you're right. I did have a choice," her mother said, her voice now getting a steely edge to it as she tried to control her own anger and frustration. "I could have chosen to stay. I could have chosen to never have this conversation with you. I could have chosen the path that would have led KGB into murdering us all. But I didn't. I chose to protect my family."
As she listened to her mother's flood of words, Sydney began to accept them as the truth that they were. She was starting to see her mother in a different light. Instead of a woman hell-bent on luring her and her father into a trap, Sydney saw her mother. Not necessarily Laura Bristow, but someone who had cared for her, loved her when she was a child. And had never stopped. Suddenly alarmed, she realized that the woman sitting in front of her was scared. Scared of losing what's important to her.
"I chose to keep you alive, and I will not apologize for that," she heard her mother say with vehemence.
Just as Sydney was about to respond, Jack's voice bellowed from the kitchen, telling them that dinner was almost ready and that the table still needed to be set.
"Don't expect me to do everything around here," he advised them.
At first, startled by the sudden interruption, neither Sydney nor Irina budged from their seats. But then, slowly, they got up together and went to help him out.
Jack, who was standing by the stove, watched as the two women entered the kitchen, Irina going straight for the cabinet to take out the glasses, while Sydney searched for the knives and forks.
Amused, and touched even, Jack wondered if they even noticed how they had fallen right back into the roles they had had some 20 years earlier.
When Irina came back from the table, she took out the plates and left them on the counter. Only a moment later, as Irina was already standing beside Jack, Sydney came back, took the plates and carried them to the table. Jack merely shook his head.
"What is it?" Irina asked him as she noticed his amusement.
"Later," he offered, refusing to elaborate.
Raising an eyebrow, she tolerated his answer. She was making a conscious effort not to brood over her unfinished conversation with Sydney. She was not convinced that she'd gotten through to her yet. In fact, if she was honest with herself, she was not sure she ever would. But at least she'd been able to explain why she had left, even if it had come out more heated than what she'd intended. Although, Irina had known the evening would be far from easy, she had been unprepared for things to be this hard.
Forcing the gloomy thoughts away for the moment, she took another look at the dinner that was nearly done.
"So, what are we having?" she asked Jack, lifting one of the lids to see inside the pan.
"Pasta with chicken and sauce."
Smiling approvingly, Irina dipped her finger into the sauce with a quick move and brought it to her lips, tasting the sauce. She laughed as Jack playfully slapped her hand away.
In a low voice that was meant to be heard only by Irina, Jack told her he loved to hear her laugh. Irina rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, whispering to him, "And I love you."
Bringing his hand to her head, he caressed her hair, twirling the long strands around his fingers. "I love you, too."
Sydney, who was already sitting at the table, watched her parents from afar. She found herself smiling at their interaction, but pretended not to hear everything they were saying by studying the label on the wine bottle. She looked up only when her father announced that the food was ready.
Ducking from underneath Jack's arm, Irina grabbed one of the pans and brought it over to the table while Jack balanced the other two.
After glancing at the food, Sydney looked up to her mother and saw the uncertain expression on her face. Trying to reassure her, Sydney smiled and said, "Everything looks good."
~*~
It was nearly dawn, but the Bristow family was still in the living room, talking. Around 5am Jack regretfully reminded Irina that the sun would soon start rising and that the inevitable moment of separation was at hand. Irina nodded her acknowledgement, but continued to relate a story from her childhood to Sydney. When she finished a few minutes later, she looked at the time herself and sighed.
"Jack," she started, "could you get my things from the bedroom? My bag's next to the bed, and I just need an extra shirt and the clothes I had when I got here."
"Of course. I'll be right back," he promised and left.
When her father was gone, Sydney looked at her mother and studied her face in great detail, giving Irina the impression that Sydney was trying to determine whether or not she should say what was in her mind.
"Look, I. I wanted to say something." Sydney finally began. "It's been bothering me all night and, well. I just really need to say it."
Irina frowned at Sydney's words, but stopped herself from commenting. She waited for Sydney to continue.
"Ever since you came back I've said some awful things to you. and about you." Sydney paused and ducked her head in shame. Knowing the truth now, knowing what she'd put her mother through, made her feel guilt-ridden. She knew her cheeks were probably red from embarrassment and the tears in her eyes didn't help either, but she forced herself to continue. "I.I even told you that. that you weren't my mother. That my mother. that you were dead. I want you. to know that I am. I am so sorry that I said that. I never should have said that. I'm sorry."
Irina watched her daughter struggle with the words and had to restrain herself from hugging her before she could finish her apology. When it appeared she was done for the moment at least, Irina went over to her and grasped her gently by her shoulders, forcing Sydney to look at her. With tears shimmering in her own eyes, she said, "Sydney, thank you. But you really don't have to apologize. When I walked in, there was no real reason for you to trust me. I always knew that. I've said this to you before. You're too forgiving."
When Sydney was about to object, Irina overrode her and continued, "And that time you came to see me. you were right. Laura Bristow is dead. I know we've come a long way tonight, but I don't want you to pretend I'm something I'm not."
Irina watched her daughter stood up and approached her. With tears streaming down her face, Sydney drew her mother into a hug.
"I'm not. you are my mother."
Unseen Jack stood by the doorway, and watched mother and daughter as they welcomed each other back into their lives and he smiled. Even with everything their family had gone through, it was clear that the love they had for each other was something that even time could not erase.
The end
"What?"
Sydney walked over to her father so she could see his face.
"She's gone," he repeated.
The words, though said in a low voice, screamed in Sydney's ears. But even as she silently cursed her mother for deceiving them again, and herself for almost falling into her web all over again, she noticed that her father didn't seem bothered by his revelation at all.
"What do you mean 'gone'?" Sydney finally asked.
"She had to leave before sunrise, to avoid detection. The house is still under surveillance at times and we can't risk her being here during the day," Jack explained, turning around just in time to see the anger on Sydney's face. In an effort to hide her unwarranted anger toward her mother, she brushed past him and went over to the refrigerator, retrieving a juice container. She muttered quietly, "This family."
Turning around, she found herself on the receiving end of her father's disapproving glare. Feeling chastised, she quickly turned away again and took her juice to the table.
Jack, though angry at Sydney for being so ready to believe the worst of her mother, refused to dwell on those pessimistic thoughts and decided to drop the topic for now. "I made your eggs scrambled. I remember you used to like them that way. I hope it's alright."
~*~
Irina quietly opened the backdoor and entered the kitchen. Her clothes were soaking wet after standing in the rain for almost an hour, making sure it was safe to enter the house. She was greeted with the familiar tunes of Liszt's Sospiro filling the air, and she smiled. She'd always loved that piece. Shivering from cold, she took her shoes off and carried them, silently made her way upstairs to the bedroom. She needed to change out of her wet clothes. Opening several drawers, she took out a towel and some clothes, which she then laid on the bed. Wrapping the towel around her long dark hair, she squeezed most of the water into the soft fabric. Then she started to put on the clothes she'd chosen, grateful that she'd accepted Jack's offer to store some of her things at the house when they'd first started working together.
When she came back downstairs, she saw the door to Jack's study partly open and went in. He was sitting behind his desk, going over papers and completely unaware of the rest of the world. She approached him slowly, trying not to startle him, and succeeded when he acknowledged her presence by looking up. She smiled at his appearance, thinking that he looked ready to eat, dressed in faded jeans and a black turtleneck.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Getting up from behind the desk, Jack closed the distance between them. Giving Irina a quick kiss, he reached to touch her still damp hair. "Your hair's all wet."
"Yeah," she said. She pointed out to the window. "It's raining."
Jack followed her finger and noticed that it was pouring outside. The analytical part of his brain quickly made a conjecture on how long she'd been forced to stay in the rain and realizing it wasn't a matter of minutes he frowned. "You should get something warm to drink. How does tea sound?"
Irina nodded in acquiescence before leaning closer for a longer and more thorough kiss. Finally separating, they rested their foreheads together for a moment, catching their breaths before Jack quietly told her that Sydney was in the living room, waiting. Irina nodded again and, after a one more brush with her lips on his, she left the room.
Leaning against the wall, Irina took a moment to study her daughter before entering the room. Sydney was sitting in the recliner, with her nose in a book. Stepping into the room, Irina smiled. Sydney was so like her in many ways, including her love for literature.
Now alerted to her mother's presence, Sydney raised her eyes from the text and marked her place before closing it.
"Hi," Irina greeted.
"Hey."
Her smile wavering, Irina sat down and waited for Sydney to take the lead. But as the silence stretched on, she let her gaze wander around the room, trying to think of a way to open a conversation.
"What were you reading?"
"The Cherry Orchard," Sydney answered. "But I wasn't really making any progress. I think I read the same paragraph six or seven times without comprehending any of it. I've been a little. preoccupied."
Irina nodded her understanding. Sydney was bound to have lots of questions that demanded answers. And that's what Irina was there for. To give her those answers to the best of her ability.
The two women looked up when Jack cleared his throat softly and entered the room, carrying a single cup with steaming tea. Bringing it over to Irina, he encouraged her to drink it to keep warm. She smiled her thanks and took a careful sip of the hot liquid. As the women watched, Jack went over to the stereo and took out the CD that had been playing and replaced it with another. Both Irina and Sydney realized that watching him was a stalling technique on their part, but neither complained.
When the soft music began to fill the room, Sydney listened to it for a while before recognizing it as Handel's. She also saw the look that was exchanged by her parents. Something was said between them through the music, but just what that something was, Sydney didn't know.
As the seconds passed and threatened to turn into minutes, Sydney watched her parents communicating silently. Although intrigued by what she was witnessing, she was starting to feel excluded. Shifting uncomfortably in her recliner, she unavoidably reminded her parents of her presence. And while she was glad they remembered she was in the room with them, the loss of connection between them was tangible, and Sydney was regretful to have that pass.
For a moment Jack's eyes shifted to the floor to avoid the eyes of both his wife and daughter. Then, looking up, he announced that he would be in the in the kitchen, heating leftovers from the night before. As he started to leave, he gestured in Irina's direction with his hand. "Don't forget to drink that while it's still warm."
Irina looked at the already forgotten cup in her hands and smiled, "Right." As Jack was passing her, she grabbed his hand, effectively stopping him.
Tilting her head back to meet his eyes, Irina's fingers gently caressed the hand she was holding. Tugging his hand, she invited him to get closer. As he did, she kissed his cheek.
"Thank you," she said, her voice reflecting her affection.
Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Jack smiled and nodded, before releasing her hand and moving away.
Only when they heard Jack making noises in the kitchen did Irina direct her attention to Sydney again.
"How long are you staying this time?"
Bending her head down for a moment, Irina adjusted to the sudden change in the atmosphere.
"Alright, I deserved that," she finally said. She raised her head to face Sydney's stare. "If you mean tonight, I will be gone by dawn." At Sydney's hurt expression she elaborated, "But I want to be part of your life, if you'll let me."
Sydney fell silent, unsure of her reaction to those words.
"Sydney," Irina tried again, "I know you must have questions. about a lot of things. I'd like to answer them. anything at all that you want to know. All you have to do is ask."
Her daughter continued to stare at her silently.
"Sydney?"
"Did you know that Neil Caplan's wife was SVR?" Sydney finally asked. "She gave herself up to help her husband. Her first instinct was to protect the lives of her family."
Feeling as though she had been kicked in the stomach, Irina looked at her daughter, unable to believe what she was hearing, the unspoken questions ringing in her ears: Why didn't you turn yourself in? Why did you destroy our family?
When she spoke, Irina's voice was quivering a little, "Elsa Caplan was lucky. She had a choice."
"And you didn't?" Sydney immediately shot back.
"Yes, you're right. I did have a choice," her mother said, her voice now getting a steely edge to it as she tried to control her own anger and frustration. "I could have chosen to stay. I could have chosen to never have this conversation with you. I could have chosen the path that would have led KGB into murdering us all. But I didn't. I chose to protect my family."
As she listened to her mother's flood of words, Sydney began to accept them as the truth that they were. She was starting to see her mother in a different light. Instead of a woman hell-bent on luring her and her father into a trap, Sydney saw her mother. Not necessarily Laura Bristow, but someone who had cared for her, loved her when she was a child. And had never stopped. Suddenly alarmed, she realized that the woman sitting in front of her was scared. Scared of losing what's important to her.
"I chose to keep you alive, and I will not apologize for that," she heard her mother say with vehemence.
Just as Sydney was about to respond, Jack's voice bellowed from the kitchen, telling them that dinner was almost ready and that the table still needed to be set.
"Don't expect me to do everything around here," he advised them.
At first, startled by the sudden interruption, neither Sydney nor Irina budged from their seats. But then, slowly, they got up together and went to help him out.
Jack, who was standing by the stove, watched as the two women entered the kitchen, Irina going straight for the cabinet to take out the glasses, while Sydney searched for the knives and forks.
Amused, and touched even, Jack wondered if they even noticed how they had fallen right back into the roles they had had some 20 years earlier.
When Irina came back from the table, she took out the plates and left them on the counter. Only a moment later, as Irina was already standing beside Jack, Sydney came back, took the plates and carried them to the table. Jack merely shook his head.
"What is it?" Irina asked him as she noticed his amusement.
"Later," he offered, refusing to elaborate.
Raising an eyebrow, she tolerated his answer. She was making a conscious effort not to brood over her unfinished conversation with Sydney. She was not convinced that she'd gotten through to her yet. In fact, if she was honest with herself, she was not sure she ever would. But at least she'd been able to explain why she had left, even if it had come out more heated than what she'd intended. Although, Irina had known the evening would be far from easy, she had been unprepared for things to be this hard.
Forcing the gloomy thoughts away for the moment, she took another look at the dinner that was nearly done.
"So, what are we having?" she asked Jack, lifting one of the lids to see inside the pan.
"Pasta with chicken and sauce."
Smiling approvingly, Irina dipped her finger into the sauce with a quick move and brought it to her lips, tasting the sauce. She laughed as Jack playfully slapped her hand away.
In a low voice that was meant to be heard only by Irina, Jack told her he loved to hear her laugh. Irina rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, whispering to him, "And I love you."
Bringing his hand to her head, he caressed her hair, twirling the long strands around his fingers. "I love you, too."
Sydney, who was already sitting at the table, watched her parents from afar. She found herself smiling at their interaction, but pretended not to hear everything they were saying by studying the label on the wine bottle. She looked up only when her father announced that the food was ready.
Ducking from underneath Jack's arm, Irina grabbed one of the pans and brought it over to the table while Jack balanced the other two.
After glancing at the food, Sydney looked up to her mother and saw the uncertain expression on her face. Trying to reassure her, Sydney smiled and said, "Everything looks good."
~*~
It was nearly dawn, but the Bristow family was still in the living room, talking. Around 5am Jack regretfully reminded Irina that the sun would soon start rising and that the inevitable moment of separation was at hand. Irina nodded her acknowledgement, but continued to relate a story from her childhood to Sydney. When she finished a few minutes later, she looked at the time herself and sighed.
"Jack," she started, "could you get my things from the bedroom? My bag's next to the bed, and I just need an extra shirt and the clothes I had when I got here."
"Of course. I'll be right back," he promised and left.
When her father was gone, Sydney looked at her mother and studied her face in great detail, giving Irina the impression that Sydney was trying to determine whether or not she should say what was in her mind.
"Look, I. I wanted to say something." Sydney finally began. "It's been bothering me all night and, well. I just really need to say it."
Irina frowned at Sydney's words, but stopped herself from commenting. She waited for Sydney to continue.
"Ever since you came back I've said some awful things to you. and about you." Sydney paused and ducked her head in shame. Knowing the truth now, knowing what she'd put her mother through, made her feel guilt-ridden. She knew her cheeks were probably red from embarrassment and the tears in her eyes didn't help either, but she forced herself to continue. "I.I even told you that. that you weren't my mother. That my mother. that you were dead. I want you. to know that I am. I am so sorry that I said that. I never should have said that. I'm sorry."
Irina watched her daughter struggle with the words and had to restrain herself from hugging her before she could finish her apology. When it appeared she was done for the moment at least, Irina went over to her and grasped her gently by her shoulders, forcing Sydney to look at her. With tears shimmering in her own eyes, she said, "Sydney, thank you. But you really don't have to apologize. When I walked in, there was no real reason for you to trust me. I always knew that. I've said this to you before. You're too forgiving."
When Sydney was about to object, Irina overrode her and continued, "And that time you came to see me. you were right. Laura Bristow is dead. I know we've come a long way tonight, but I don't want you to pretend I'm something I'm not."
Irina watched her daughter stood up and approached her. With tears streaming down her face, Sydney drew her mother into a hug.
"I'm not. you are my mother."
Unseen Jack stood by the doorway, and watched mother and daughter as they welcomed each other back into their lives and he smiled. Even with everything their family had gone through, it was clear that the love they had for each other was something that even time could not erase.
The end