For the Love of Jason

 


"What are you going to do now, child?"

Christina Belcuri’s tear-filled eyes went wide at Mabel’s question. Mabel Jenkins was the matronly postmaster for the small town of McAllister, and as usual, she had known precisely what to do to bring Christina back to her senses. On this day, when Christina thought that she might drown in her own grief and helplessness, Mabel’s abrupt words were just what she needed.

Pulling herself together, she glanced down at the small bundle that slept in her arms, oblivious to all but a pair of loving arms, a dry diaper and a bottle of milk when the time was right. Three-month-old Jason Raven, it seemed, was to be her responsibility now. Never mind that somewhere out there he had a father and grandmother -- neither of whom seemed overly concerned with the matter. Despite the fact that Christina had sent a certified letter to the address that Jeannie Raven’s address book had listed as her mother’s, neither Georgiana Stanton, nor the mysterious Mr. Raven who had 18 months previous claimed Jeannie as his bride had put in an appearance at Jeannie’s funeral.

"I sup-suppose," Christina said tentatively, "that I’ll be caring for Jason now."

"Supposing isn’t good enough, girl. A child needs more sincerity than supposing." Mabel’s tone threatened to bring fresh tears to Christina’s eyes, but she straightened her shoulders and spoke more firmly.

" But I am sincere, Mabel. I’ll take care of Jason just like he was my own. I’ll love him just like Aunt Elise loved me, and like Jeannie’s aunt Cara loved her."

"I know you will," Mabel’s voice softened as she placed a plump hand on Christina’s shoulder. "I know. " Then turning her gaze to the pink casket that had been partially lowered into the ground, she went on, shaking her head, "Such a shame. That one was too young and too beautiful die. And she had so much to live for." At that Mabel’s eyes rested on Jason.

Then turning again toward Christina, a frown crossed the woman’s stern features. "I’m not surprised at the mother. But still no word on the father?" Her tone of voice suggested that there was more behind the questions. But Christina was too exhausted to do more than to answer it at face value.

Christina sighed. "No. When Jeannie showed up on my doorstep a year ago, she was a mess. You know that Mabel. She didn’t want to talk about her husband. I didn’t even find out that they’d only been married for seven months until she found out she was pregnant. Even then she wouldn’t tell me his name. All she would say was that Georgiana was evil, and that he wasn’t to blame. And that she wouldn’t let him suffer for what she had done."

Mabel sighed along with her. "A body can understand why Cara told the child that her mother was dead. Shame that she had to find out different after Cara passed."

"Yeah, she said that, too," Christina confided. Privately however, she couldn’t understand why Cara Meridon, the woman who had raised Jeannie would lie to her niece, telling her that her mother was dead. Or why a mother would go along with the game, never visiting or even writing her child.

"She probably found out the truth after that woman got her hands on the money Cara left the girl."

Christina looked up in surprise. Jeannie hadn’t told her much about what had happened during the six years she had been away from McAllister. All that Christina knew was that the only person she’d called best friend and ‘sister’ had changed dramatically in that time.

Having both grown up in a small town environment under the care of Aunts, they’d become fast friends, even to the point of declaring one another family. A year after graduating high school, Jeannie’s aunt Cara died suddenly. Those had been difficult days for the both of them, then news had come that Jeannie’s mother, Georgiana Stanton was alive and well and living on the West Coast. Jeannie had been ecstatic to learn that she might have a ‘real’ family. Shortly after, she decided to finish college on the West Coast nearer her newfound family.

During the initial months of their separation, Jeannie had written quite often. Greenich was a big city in comparison to McAllister, and she’d had a lot that she wanted to share. But eventually Jeannie’s letters became shorter and further apart. Within a year they had stopped writing altogether. When Christina’s Aunt Elise died, the letter Christina sent to Jeannie was returned unopened. No such person as Jeannie Meridon resided at that address.

And then, after more than three years of silence, Jeannie showed up on Christina’s doorstep. The once happy-go-lucky young woman had been come a nervous, tearful and sometimes hysterical woman perhaps near the brink of a total breakdown. Christina hadn’t known what to do for her. But she could not, under any circumstances, turn away her friend. Once again, they were their only family. A week after her arrival, Jeannie discovered that she was pregnant.

Halfway through her pregnancy, Jeannie seemed to calm down and settle into a routine. And then after Jason was born, it was as if the old Jeannie was back. She was happy again, and had a purpose for going on. Christina had thought that it was only a matter of time before she opened up and confided all that had taken place after she’d moved to Greenich.

But then, suddenly, there was no more time. Jeannie Raven, once vibrant, witty and beautiful, was no more. Just before her twenty-fifth birthday, Jeannie was killed by a hit and run driver while returning home from a shopping trip in a neighboring town. In one careless act, an as-yet-unknown, driver had taken one life, and changed another forever.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

Christina was pulled from her thoughts by Mabel’s words. Following the woman’s gaze passed the thinning crowd of mourners, she caught sight of something sleek and black pulling to a stop along the dirt road that led to this part of the cemetery.

All eyes remained glued on the vehicle as a man dressed in a dark suit got out of the driver's side and then moved to open the passenger door. Christina was sure that even the birds ceased to make a sound as the form of a tall man dressed completely in black, down to the black glasses that obscured most of his features was assisted from the vehicle. She wondered for a moment if he were hurt, because even after he was out of the car, the driver continued to offer his arm. It wasn’t until he rounded the front of the vehicle that she noticed that cane clasped in his right dancing above the surface of the ground. This man was blind. And he wasn’t from around those parts.

The two men stopped near Jetty Burke and asked him a question. Christina noticed that while the driver had talked to Jetty, the blind man had gazed absently skyward. But when Jetty had begun speaking, he had turned intently in the direction of the Jetty's voice.

Christina felt pretty sure that the conversation was either about herself or Mabel, because Jetty pointed a crooked finger in their direction before getting another eyeful of the sleek black sedan that the two men had driven up in. Cars were Jetty's fascination, and this was probably the type that he had only seen in magazines.

There was no more time to ponder the men’s purpose in coming because they were already near enough for Christina see that the driver was of medium height and build, while his charge was tall, slim and dark. Dark was the description that suited him best; dark hair, dark coloring, dark clothing, and a mouth set in a thin brooding line.

"I am Oscar Desmond," the driver introduced himself. "And we are seeking someone by the name of C. Belcuri." His gray eyes wore an expression of sympathy, but also something else. Something that bothered Christina deeply.

She blinked, attempting to hold the feeling of trepidation at bay. But the small gesture of drawing Jason a little tighter against her shoulder, almost in protection, was unconscious. "I’m Christina Belcuri," she said. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

The driver made a gesture against the blind man’s arm, who then turned his attention toward her with an intensity that caused Christina to question his blindness. "I am Michael Raven," the blind man spoke, extending his hand toward her. "You sent a telegram concerning my wife, concerning Jeannie?"

Christina gaped. It wasn’t until Mabel nudged her that she glanced down and saw that Michael Raven had extended his hand toward her. It was slightly off, but Desmond gestured that she should take it, anyway.

Moving quickly, too late to conceal her shock, Christina reached for the man’s hand and briefly clasped it in greeting. "I’m sorry, Jeannie was a good friend," she managed, having no idea what else to say to the man who had been Jeannie’s husband, to Jason’s father. Jason’s father! The thought struck fear into her heart. It wasn’t until that moment that she began to realize how much she didn’t want to lose the little guy. The child was as much a part of her as he was of Jeannie. And of, she admitted reluctantly to herself, Michael Raven.

As if beginning to sense some of the turmoil around him, Jason began to whine and fret. Tiny hands clinched as his body wriggled fussily against Christina’s shoulder. Immediately, Christina began to make comforting noises. Locating the pacifier that had been tied to his shirt front, she placed it into his mouth. The child took it, but continued to make unhappy whining noises.

"I’m sorry," Raven apologized. "I didn’t realize... Perhaps we can set up an appointment. I’m going to be at the..." His voice trailed off as he turned slightly toward Desmond.

"The Howard Johnson, Sir," Desmond informed him.

"The Howard Johnson. If I may contact you, there are a number of things I would like to discuss."

"There will be a gathering tonight...for Jeannie," Christina found herself saying. "It will be above Elise’s Olde Time gift shop, on Main Street. Everyone knows where it is. The entrance is in back. Everyone will probably be arriving around six."

Raven seemed to consider this for a moment. "Thank you," he said, finally. "I will look forward to talking to you later."

After mutual good-bye’s, Christina watched the two men head slowly back toward their car. Mr. Michael Raven was not at all what she had expected. Handsome, yes; well spoken, perhaps; blind, definitely not.

~*~  

Jason was sleeping soundly at six o'clock when the guests began to arrive. Angela Kater was first. She was a plump middle aged woman with a cherubic face and an incurable knack for gossip. "Am I first?" she'd asked as soon as she crossed the threshold.

"Um hum," Christina nodded taking her jacket. "Thank you for coming Angie, I know you and Jeannie didn't get on so well." Christina spoke honestly, leading Angie into the living room with a light touch on her back.

"Yeah well, that's no secret," Angie responded good-naturedly. "She always said I was too nosey and she was probably right, but she came back here so mysterious and all." Angie took a seat on the long sofa and picked up one of the little cakes some of the neighbors had made. Taking a bite of the cake Angie changed the subject to the one Christina was sure had been on her mind all along. "Who was that man who arrived late? I saw you talking to him when we left."

"That was Michael Raven." Christina answered reluctantly. There was no sense in hiding it, especially since she’d invited him to the gathering as well. In hindsight, however, she wondered at the wisdom of such a thing. More than likely Michael Raven and Oscar Desmond would be the only men present.

"Raven? As in Jeannie Raven and Jason Raven? Husband of and father to?" Angie’s eyes had grown wide. As far as gossip went, this was probably the mother lode. "Did you know all along that Jeannie’s husband was blind?!" Without waiting for a reply, Angie went on, practically bouncing on the sofa.

"Oh my goodness, it's no wonder she was so secretive. Do you think she was ashamed for some reason? Maybe he wasn’t born that way and it happened later and she couldn’t handle it. Oh my goodness! Chrissy! Maybe it was her fault that he’s blind!"

Christina had had enough. "Angie, stop it," she told her friend, forcing her own voice to be calm. "You’re getting carried away with yourself and I won’t have you spreading these ideas. Besides, Mr. Raven and I will be talking soon enough so I suppose we will find out some of the true answers that we’ve all been craving."

Angie, used to people trying to calm her imaginative, gossipy mind, simply continued on, ready with the next questions as soon as Christina finished speaking. Christina sighed in relief when the doorbell rang.

It was Mrs. Janis Belevedere, a woman who had been an old and dear friend of Christina’s Aunt Elise before she had died nearly two years earlier.

"Hello, Mrs. Belevedere," Christina welcomed her with a hug before helping her down the hall to the living room. The arthritis in her legs was obviously bothering her. "I'm so glad you could come tonight."

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Belevedere returned the greeting. "You are such a sweet child to take care of that baby and helping Elise like you did."

Christina smiled and thanked her, and helped her to settle on the sofa. Before Mrs. Belevedere had gotten comfortable, Angie had chimed in with her latest supposition concerning Michael Raven.

"I never said that!" Christina objected.

"Well, are you going to give him the baby or not, then?" Angie asked, pressing the issue. It was then that Christina realized what she had done. And it was too late to turn back because Angie’s words had gotten Mrs. Belvedere started.

"Surely you're not going to just turn the baby over to a strange man you know nothing about and blind to boot. He can't take care of a baby. Why the baby doesn't even know him!" The older woman was outraged.

"I may not have a choice," Christina tried to defend herself. "He is the child’s father, after all."

"Listen, honey. You just keep real quiet about whose baby that is. We’ll never tell!" That from Angie. Christina doubted Angie could keep anything quiet. But Janis Belvedere backed her up, even stomped her foot on the floor.

Sighing, Christina pointed in the direction of the doorbell. Soon the entire group was there save for Michael Raven. Christina was relieved that he hadn’t because she fully suspected that along with planning the conspiracy to prevent Michael Raven from learning about his child, the townswomen of McAllister were quite capable of running the poor man out of town that very night.

 

 Chapter Two

 

Michael Raven rolled over and came groggily awake. Opening his eyes, he suffered mild panic when the darkness did not abate. He hadn’t yet adjusted to the fact that darkness was his domain. He wasn’t sure that he ever would.

Feeling for the edge of the bed, he pushed himself carefully to a sitting position. Resting his elbows on his knees, he ran a hand along the back of his aching head; exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. For once, he thought, the doctors may have been correct. This trip had been too soon. But nothing could have kept him away after he’d received the message about Jeannie’s death.

"Desmond?" he croaked, calling to his assistant. Oscar Desmond had been with the Raven family for nearly thirty years, since Michael’s own father was a young man. Desmond seemed to have developed a sixth sense of when Michael needed him. Most of the time. This time, however, no approaching footsteps responded to his plea.

"Desmond?" he called again, louder this time. No response. The ensuing silence was heavy, alerting him to just how still the room was, how lonely. He was alone - in a strange place. Mild panic washed over him. He pushed the unwelcome sensation forcefully away. This was ridiculous! He was reasonably intelligent. How difficult could it be to find the bathroom in a Howard Johnson Motel?

Moving slowly, carefully, he rose to his feet. Arms spread, he took several cautious steps away from the bed. The plan was to find a wall, from which, theoretically, he could find anything. He found the dresser, or rather his toe did. It was painful, but it was also progress. Sliding along the dresser, he found the wall.

Moving more confidently, he felt along the wall in what he hoped was the proper direction. The cool, slightly embossed surface of wallpaper slid beneath his seeking palms. A light switch. He had no idea whether the lights were on or off, not that it mattered. He continued along the wall, feeling the coolness of a tile floor beneath his stocking feet. Suddenly, his foot hit something round, hard and plastic. He became entangled, and once he began to lose his balance, it was over. He felt that plastic warp, then pop beneath him as he went down.

The sounds of his own swearing and assorted falling items were dying down when he heard the room door slam open. "Mr. Raven!," Desmond’s worried exclamation only added to his irritation.

"Are you injured?" Desmond’s hands went beneath his arms to steady him as he assisted him to his feet.

"I’m fine!" Michael snapped defensively, shaking his arm from Desmond’s grasp. He hated being helpless. "If I’m to be stuck this way, I may as well start getting used to it. I can’t just depend on you for the rest of my life."

"You’re going to have to depend on me, or someone, for the time being," Desmond replied reasonably. His voice sounded as if he’d turned his back and were attending to something else.

"Maybe ‘or someone’ would be better?" Raven muttered, though it was more his own hurt pride and frustration speaking than anything else.

"If that is your desire," was Desmond’s smooth reply. He was used to the Raven moods. Continuing as if the discussion was of little importance, "I’ve brought dinner. Seems this...town has no inkling of delivery or room service. I did however find a quaint establishment: Granny’s Nibblins. If I may direct you to the table?"

Michael sighed, his irritation leaving as quickly as it had began. He was too tired to hold on to the emotion anyway. Besides, whatever Desmond had found at Granny’s Nibblins smelled delicious. He allowed the older man to lead him to the table.

A sudden thought occurred to him. "What time is it ?"

"Ten minutes of seven, local time." Desmond replied. Then touching his hand to a utensil, "This is your fork. Your plate is directly before you. Enjoy." Then continuing without missing a beat, "And before you began to fret, I’ve left a message with Ms. Belcuri, making her aware that your arrival will be later than expected."

"Thank you," Michael said softly. What would he do without Desmond, indeed. "You should have waken me. I told her that I would come. I should have gone."

"You needed your rest," Desmond said. "You know what the doctors said as well as I."

"Desmond," Raven warned.

"Yes I know. Don’t ‘mother’ you," Desmond said the words in a way that suggested he’d said them many times before. A silent moment passed, and he continued. "I did try to awaken you, Michael. I suspect that perhaps your body was simply too tired to awaken fully."

There had been other instances in which he had been difficult to awaken. But the frequency had decreased. The doctors had explained that it wasn’t unusual with the type of head injury that he’d sustained. His exhaustion had no doubt exacerbated the problem.

"Well," he said, with forced cheerfulness, "I’m rested now and I’m starving. What else have you got besides country fried something or other?"

            ~*~  

At half past seven, Christina found herself in the doorway saying her good-byes to what she privately considered the lynch mob. One thing was for sure, Angela Kater was definitely out of control. And the rest of the group had been far too willing to follow her lead. Christina had to admit, though, that the discussion of Angie’s ‘plan’ had diverted everyone from the true sadness behind the gathering. For that perhaps, she should thank Angie.

Hugging each one of them with renewed appreciation, Christina felt the beginnings of a genuine smile. In the midst of a half dozen commands to call if she needed absolutely anything, she closed the door. The care and concern of the townspeople touched her. Closing her eyes, she forced away the tightness that began in the back of her throat. She’d shed enough tears.

Opening her eyes, she allowed them to trail over the only home she’d ever known. The apartment was still decorated as it had been when Aunt Elise died. Christina hadn’t changed a thing. Elise had been fond of knickknacks as evidenced by the many figurines which decorated the apartment. If Jason was to be hers, Christina would definitely have to give some thought to child-proofing.

Finding surprising comfort in the thought, she pushed away from the door to check her messages. The phone had rang several times during the gathering. No doubt Mabel was checking up on her. She paused mid-stride when the doorbell rang.

Thinking it to be one of the women from the gathering, or even Mabel, Christine threw the door open without looking out the peephole. The tall, darkly clothed form of Michael Raven, accompanied as usual by his manservant, was not at all what she was expecting to see.

"Oh Mr. Raven and...Mr. Desmond," the name came to her at the last minute. "Please come in."

Desmond thanked her politely and escorted Raven into the apartment before stepping back onto the landing. "I will await your call," he spoke softly.

"Thank you, Desmond," Raven replied, equally softly. After a nod in Christina’s direction, Desmond was gone, leaving her to face Jason’s father alone.

"Uhm, should I take your arm?" she asked, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Michael Raven was tall and lean, looming nearly a foot taller than her. Dressed in dark clothing, his face set in harsh lines, he posed a very daunting figure. Jeannie was such a gentle creature at heart; this man didn’t seem at all the type to which she might be attracted.

"That would probably best easiest," he said. "Unless you’d prefer that I stumble around your home. I’m very likely to break a few things." Christina wondered if a small, ironic smile crossed his lips. She couldn’t be sure as it was more a breaking of the thin line of his mouth than anything else.

"All right," she breathed, then tentatively took his arm. He turned his head slightly in her direction at her touch. Christina looked up expectantly, wondering if he meant to say something. Then she realized that he was simply acknowledging her. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, she took in the landscape. If the knick-knack shelves and little odds and ends were off-limits as a child’s domain, they were a virtual mine field for Michael Raven. "This could be interesting," she found herself saying aloud. "I didn’t realized just how cluttered this place is. We’re going to move slowly here."

It took several minutes to make their way to the den, which she figured was safer, considering. She offered words of warning when they reached the sofa. Raven seemed to be listening very carefully as she directed him, his movements only becoming jerky when she put a hand on each of his arms to maneuver him backward so that his legs gently brushed the chair. She was sure his lips twitched this time.

"Thank you," was all he said as he lowered himself carefully to sit.

"Would you like a drink or something to eat?" she asked, noting the way he turned his head as if his ear were following the sound of her voice. "There are a lot of things here that the neighbors brought. I could even make a sandwich if you’re hungry."

"No, thank you. I’ve eaten already," he answered. "But I would like to apologize for arriving late. Have I missed everyone?"

"I’m afraid so," Christina said. "And it’s no problem. I realize it was unexpected." She looked down at her hands. He and Angela Kater would not have been a good mix. But, Jeannie had been his wife...

She went on, "I was a little surprised when I found out who you were, though. Jeannie never told me that you were blind."

Raven shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "That’s probably because she didn’t know."

Christina wasn’t sure how to reply to that. "I’m sorry," was all that she could think to say.

Raven cleared his throat. "I was injured in an automobile accident, or so they tell me. I only just awakened from a coma a couple weeks ago. You can imagine my...surprise at receiving your telegram." He spoke the words in a measured monotone.

"I’m so very sorry," Christina said, sure that words were inadequate. Despite the fact that her best friend had found it necessary to leave this man, she could very well understand the shock he must have felt.

"How long were you in a coma?" she asked him.

"One hundred and twenty-seven days," Raven said. "I was the resident miracle patient; they didn’t think that I would live, much less wake up. There was a price to pay for breaking the medical rules, however. I lost some short term memory. The events in the months prior to the accident are vague and unreliable at best. And of course, my vision was forfeit as well. Although there is some thought that a series of laser surgeries may help me regain a measure of vision."

"What about your memory?"

"That," he signed heavily, "Is open to debate. I remembered a lot in that first week after I awoke, but the new memories have slowed down now. The doctors aren’t very hopeful."

"I’m sorry," Christina said again and reached across to touch his arm. "It must be very difficult for you."                                          

"Yes," Raven nodded. "It is difficult. But I didn’t come here to burden you with my problems. I came here to see if you could help me understand what happened with Jeannie."

Christina frowned. "What would you like to know?"

There were several moments before he uttered the softly spoken words. "Why she left me."

Christina’s heart wrenched. The simply spoken words told of his sorrow and pain. And he was exposing himself to further pain by asking such questions of a stranger. He hardly seemed daunting anymore as Christina could sense what lay beneath the harsh facade he displayed. And she wished desperately that she had an answer to his questions. For his peace of mind, and her own.

"I don’t know why she left you," she told him. "She never said, and I never asked because she was so upset. I always thought we had....time."

Raven deflated. "Can you tell me how she...died? I’ve been trying to get the information, but the investigators haven’t gotten back to me yet and I would really like to know."

Christina swallowed. There was no way to buffer the truth so she simply gave him the facts. Jeannie Raven had died without reason. And the irony that both Jeannie and Michael Raven had been injured in similar fashion was not lost on Christina. "She was killed in an automobile accident in a neighboring town. Hit and run. The police suspect that it was a drunk driver."

Raven gasped and paled.

"There’s more," Christina pressed on, having come to a decision. His investigators would learn of the truth eventually. "You have a three month old son. His name is Jason Michael Raven." She enunciated each name carefully to be sure he understood. "And he’s sleeping in the other room."

Raven froze completely as the news went through him. "A...s-son?" he stuttered. Chris felt horrible at the necessity of the one-two punch she’d just given him.

"I...have a son?" Hesitance turned into disbelief. "The baby from the funeral...that can't be true." He turned away and moved to get up from the sofa.

Christina rushed to help him. "I'm sorry, I know this is a shock to you, especially after all this time. Maybe if I got you a drink you would feel better." She grasped his arm as he stumbled into the coffee table jarring the lazy Susan that had been left from the previous visitors.

"I’m sorry," he apologized, struggling to control powerful emotions. "I - I’m not...." He ran a hand through his hair. "I’m sorry. I can’t..."

"If you could just see him --" she began, then bit her tongue. Her choice of words hadn’t been the best. "Look why don't you have a seat?" She tugged slightly on his arm.

"If I could see him what?" Raven asked.

Christina tugged again on his arm. "Would you like to sit?"

"No, tell me what you meant ‘If I could see him’?"

"It was nothing." She gave up trying to move him. "I didn't mean to..." her voice trailed off .

"No," his voice softened. "Please tell me what you meant. I know that your choice of wording wasn’t intended to be hurtful. I’d just like to know what your thoughts were."

"If you could see him, you would love him," she said. "He's a beautiful little boy."

"If I could see him," he repeated very softly, almost to himself. "What does he look like? Like his mother I'll bet." A sad smile hovered around his lips. He extended his arm, allowing Christina to lead him once again.

"He has lots of curly dark hair and the longest lashes you've ever seen. Actually..." Christina stopped for a moment in thought. "He has pale blue eyes, not at all like Jeannie's. What color are your eyes Mr. Raven?" she asked.

Raven silently reached up and removed his dark glasses. His eyes were the same pale blue as Jason's.

"He probably looks a lot like you did when you were a baby," she said. Just as if Christina had timed it, Jason began to whimper. It was time for his last feeding of the day. "Would you like to feed him?" she asked.

Raven shook his head nervously. "No, I can't do that. What if I dropped him?".

All you have to do is support him and hold the bottle," Christina said. "I'll help you," she added knowing she had him. "I’ll be right back." She put the bottle in the warmer on the way to the baby's room. By the time she'd changed him and gotten back out to the den the bottle was ready.

She spoke softly to him as she carried him over to his father. Ordering Raven to curl his arms, she gently laid the baby in them. He turned his face down towards the little bundle as if searching for an image of his son. His face turned back up to Christina, his blue, sightless eyes, full of awe.

"He smells good," he said, turning his head back toward the child.

"Here's the bottle," she placed it into his hand and guided it toward Jason’s mouth. The child immediately began to suck vigorously. Raven seemed to find awe in that, too.

Christina smiled as she watched the two of them.  

At first Raven was stiff, as if he was afraid he would drop the baby. But gradually he began to relax. It looked and felt right, seeing them together. Perhaps little Jason Raven could heal Michael Raven’s emotional wounds.

Raven smiled in the general direction of the child. "I wish I could see him."

"I'd like to ask a favor of you," Christina said, her voice turning serious. She waited until Raven turned his head slightly in her direction. "Would you keep in touch with me so I'll know how he's doing, maybe let me visit sometimes?"

"Visit?" Raven said. His voice became edged with something akin to panic "I can't take care of him, I can barely take care of myself. He needs someone to love him right now. Not a house full of strangers. I wouldn't fight you if you wanted to keep him. You are much better for him than I am. There are no guarantees on my vision. One blind parent is not good enough for him."

"Mr. Raven, I have no claim to him. He is your child. Even though I love him I know I have to give him to you. You are his father and he's going to need you. The longer he's with me the harder it is to give him up because I know after he's gone it's just me and this house. I know what it is to have no family. But you are his family. He should not have to grow up feeling that you didn't want him or that you gave him away."

"Are you saying that you won't keep him?" Raven asked. "What would you do if I didn't take him? If I left him here with you?" He dared her to deny she would take care of him rather than let him go to a foster home.

Christina's voice hardened, "If you leave him here, then you're going to have to give up all claim to him. Forever. You’ll have to sign over your parental rights. I don’t want his life torn apart in a few months or years whenever you decide you’re ready for a child in your life."

Raven held the baby silently for a few moments. She began to wonder if he were going to answer her at all. He had to be reeling from all that she’d hit him with that night. And she hated adding one more thing to the list. But she needed to know. For herself, and for Jason. There could be no middle ground.

"I'll need help," he said finally, looking up. For a moment, she almost believed that he could see her and then his gaze drifted. "In my home there is my mother, but she is an invalid and not capable of caring for an infant. I’ll need a nanny. Would you consider interviewing someone for the position. I trust your judgment. And you already know Jason. I’ll reimburse you for your time and any work that you are lost here."

Christina let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. A knot was forming in the back of her throat. That Jason would grow up with his true family was wonderful. But she would be left alone as before. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

"If you need some time to think about it..." he offered.

"No," Christina spoke up sharply, then cleared her thought. Forcing her voice to steady. "I don't need time to think about it. I'll do it. I need to see the person who'll be taking care of...him. All I ask in payment is a place to stay and travel arrangements."

"Very well then, I'll have all the arrangements taken care of." He carefully placed the bottle on the table in front of him, feeling with his fingers where the table was, also careful not to disturb the then sleeping child.

"Would you like for me to put him to bed?"

"If you don't mind I'd just like to hold him for a while," he replied. "It's very new to me I hope it isn't a bad thing to hold him like this."

Christina smiled. "My Aunt would say that your could never spoil a child by loving it."

"Your Aunt sounds like a wise woman."

"Yes, she was."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Raven said. "I didn't realize..."

"It's really okay," Chris said. "She was wonderful, I still have all of her memories here in this house. I grew up here, she took me in when I was very young." Chris's affectionate gaze wandered around the room, cluttered with the remnants of her past. She loved this old house. "We used to run the shop together. She left it to me...after..."

"What happened to the rest of your family?" Raven asked.

“My parents died in an accident when I was about 2 years old so I really don't remember them. When we were kids, Jeannie and I always felt like it was the two of us against the rest of the world. Jeannie's Aunt Cara took care of her and Aunt Elise took care of me. Jeannie’s mother left her with her aunt shortly after she was born. Jeannie thought her mother was dead most of her life. But you probably know all of that already."

Raven nodded his head. "Yes, I’ve met Georgiana on several occasions. She lives near Greenich, and is rather an odd woman. She and Jeannie had a strange relationship, from what I can remember."

Christina had never met Georgiana Stanton, and didn’t think she wanted to. Jeannie had had nothing good to say about her mother.

Raven continued, "I'd better go and let you get this little guy in bed. Thank you again. For everything. For taking care of Jason. I’ll be in contact about the arrangements."

Christina removed the sleeping child from his arms, and showed him out.

 

 Chapter Three

 

"Are you certain?" Michael Raven asked in surprise.

"I’m quite certain," was Desmond’s calm reply.

"Has she been informed?"

"No. But she may already be aware of the situation if Jeannie informed her. The insurance company will likely notify her within the next thirty days that she is beneficiary."

Raven rubbed at his brow. "Well, it does make sense that Jeannie would change her policy. Especially after Jason was born. But it also means that she had no intention of ever telling me about my son." He was quiet for several moments, while he tried to come to terms with the situation. "What did I do wrong, Desmond?"

Desmond sighed. "I don’t know what happened between the two of you. You...kept your own counsel back then. She left and you became very distant. No one could reach you, Michael."

"I can barely remember her Desmond," he whispered. "How could I fall in love with and marry a woman and then barely remember her?"

Desmond remained silent, allowing Raven to talk.

"That’s what bothers me the most. I’m here mourning a woman I don’t know anymore, a woman who ran away from me. A woman who has, in a round-a-bout way, given me the gift of a son. He’s the one who is important now. He’s the focus."

             ~*~

 Christina sighed, and again demonstrated how to work the temperamental mechanism on the safe. "See, if it sticks, then you have to do it this way."

"Oh, I see," Angie Kater smiled apologetically. "I thought you meant... Oh, never mind what I thought. I got it. So how long are you going to be gone with this Michael Raven?"

Christina wondered just how much of what Angie did was an excuse for digging up juicy information. As far as she was concerned, if Angie didn’t have a need to know, she wouldn’t be hearing it from her. Her answer was to the point. "Two weeks is what I have planned. Are you worried about the extra hours?"

"Oh, they’re no problem," Angie assured her. "If you would let me, I’d take over the shop full time. This is a great old place. Your Aunt had a good eye."

"Yeah, she did," Christina relaxed, gazing around the area.

"Have you told Larry yet?" Angie asked next.

"Not exactly. I left a message asking him to call. It’ll probably be a day before he gets back to me."

"How do you think he’s going to take it?"

Chris shrugged. "Doesn’t really matter."

Angie seemed to digest that for several seconds. "So, when ya leaving?"

"In two days, if all goes as planned," Christina replied.

"You’re not worried?" Angie’s voice dropped to a whisper, though there was no one else in the shop.

"About what?" Chris copied her tone.

"Being dragged off into the woods and getting roughed up." Angie replied as if she were surprised that Chris hadn’t come to that conclusion herself.

"By a blind man?" she asked skeptically.

"You never know. It’s the ones you least expect."

"I’ll be careful," Chris assured her. The doorbell jangled, announcing the arrival of a new customer, and Christina’s release from Angie’s interrogation. "Listen, why don’t you get that while I finish up back here?"

"Sure thing," Angie bounced happily out of the room.

Chris sighed and returned to her task of bringing the books up to date. She wanted things to go as smoothly as possible while she was away. She’d only tapped in another set of digits into her calculator when Angie’s head appeared around the door.

"There’s a woman here to see you." Angie informed her.

"Does she have a name?" Christina asked, barely glancing up from her ledger.

"She said her name was Ms. Stanton."

Christina nearly dropped her pen. Georgiana Stanton?! Here? Quickly marking her place, she passed around the desk and went toward the front of the store.

"I’m Christina Belcuri," she extended her hand to the perfectly made up woman on the opposite side of the counter.

"Georgiana Stanton," the woman responded, disdainfully ignoring the hand Christina had offered. Christina uncomfortably brought her hand back to her side. It did have a bit of leftover wood stain on it.

"I’m sorry for your loss," Christina offered. "And I’m sorry to say that you missed the funeral. It was the day before yesterday."

"What right did you have even burying my daughter?" Georgiana demanded, ignoring Chris’s proffered sympathy. Her eyes and tone were cold.

Christina’s eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the woman. "I wasn’t able to contact you," she said. "If you would like, I can show you the grave site."

"She doesn’t need me interfering with that. She’s probably better off where she is, silly girl. She certainly was unhappy enough in this life. But what I would like, is to know why my daughter named you as beneficiary to her life insurance policy."

Christina blinked, stunned at the woman’s callousness. "What?"

"Her policy," Georgiana spat as if talking to a particularly dim child. "Why did she leave it to you?"

Chris was too stunned to do anything more than answer. "I didn’t know she had. Are you sure?"

Georgiana rolled her eyes nastily. "Thanks for absolutely nothing." With that the woman slammed out of the shop.

"And that was Jeannie’s mother?" Angie asked, stepping up beside her.

"Yep," Chris said.

"She didn’t look very happy."

"No, I don’t think she was."

"She didn’t look too sad, either."

"Nope."

"Why didn’t you tell her about her grandchild? Might have mellowed her--though I kinda doubt it."

"She didn’t really give me a chance."

"Good point."

 

~*~

 

Christina stared at her reflection in the mirror and nervously fidgeted with her hair. She rarely wore it in any other manner than a braid down her back. Even on Sundays. But in just a few minutes, Michael Raven and Mr. Desmond would be arriving to gather she and Jason. She decided that a trip to Greenich required something more.

Her long dark blonde hair had a natural wave and hung half to her waist. She hadn’t really needed the liner to accentuate her dark lashes and brows, but Mabel, of all people, had insisted on it. She’d said that it gave her a more ‘put together’ look. Whatever. And it was Angie who had insisted on the lipstick. Christina simply wondered if all of it hadn’t been a big mistake.

With lipstick, she couldn’t kiss Jason, and what if her hair fell over her shoulder and bothered him? She hadn’t really found a reason to dislike the eye make-up, but she was sure she would come up with something.

"Chris, are you coming out of there or not?!" a voice yelled through the door.

"I’m coming!" she called back, making a wry expression. She could just wash her face...

The phone rang as she continued to contemplate her newly forming plan. Mabel and Angie would have no time to get her back into the horrid stuff.

"It’s for you! Larry!"

All thought of washing her face and braiding her hair vanished. She’d left Larry a message two days earlier, and he’d chosen the worst of all possible times to call her back. Leaving the bathroom and heading for her bedroom, where she hoped to find at least a modicum of privacy, she picked up the line.

"Hi Larry," she replied cheerfully into the phone. And then, upon hearing Angie’s breathing on the other extension. "I’ve got it, Ange."

"Sure thing," was Angie’s disembodied reply, but no tell-tell click of the receiver being replaced.

"Angie," Chris warned.

The phone clicked without another word. Chris sighed.

"What’s going on?" Larry asked, his deep drawl echoed over the phone lines bringing to mind his handsome features. His usual easy-going smile was no doubt plastered over his face.

"I’m leaving," Chris told him. "Just for a little while. Two weeks."

"You? Leaving?" Larry laughed. "I thought I’d never hear of that day. Taking a vacation? You ought to, you know. ‘specially after being saddled with that baby and all."

Christina fought the irritation that was beginning to rise. Larry had never approved of her wanting to assume responsibility for Jeannie’s child. "No, Larry," she replied. "Jason’s father showed up at the funeral. He’s taking the child home, and wants me to help him find a nanny."

There was silence for several moments.

"Larry?" Chris spoke into the quiet.

"You sure that’s such a good idea, Chris?"

"Well, he needs the help. He’s blind. And his own mother is an invalid. He just woke up from a coma for heaven’s sake."

"You’re kidding me. You believe that?! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of in my life. No one is that unlucky --"

"Larry..." Chris tried to cut in.

"It’s probably just some story to try to --"

"Larry..." Chris’s voice rose.

"You’re too naive for your own good! Let him find his own nanny! I forbid you to go!"

"You what?" Chris demanded. "You can’t forbid me to go anywhere. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re 1000 miles away and have been for the past month! I talk to you once a week, maybe! What gives you the right?"

"You’ve been waiting for me all your life, Christina Renee Belcuri, and you know it. That’s why you called me. If you ever want me to ask you to marry me, you’ll do what I say."

Chris gasped in outrage. Of all the Neanderthal...! She was beyond words. After sputtering several times into the phone, she simply slammed the receiver down.

"Is everything all right?" Mabel and Angie came rushing into the room.

Chris wiped at her eyes. The fool man wasn’t worth crying over. "Everything is fine," she told her friends. "Larry just wasn’t very happy."

Mabel looked thoughtful, but Angie looked like she was trying to decide which obvious question to ask first. Neither had an opportunity to speak because the doorbell rang. It was time.

"I’ve gotta go," she told them, retrieving Jason from Mabel’s arms. Suddenly nervous at the impending trip, she glanced over everything hoping that she hadn’t forgotten anything. Everything seemed to be in place.

"It’s fine," Mabel told her, seeming to understand. "We’ll take care of this place. You just go."

Chris’s eyes teared for a whole different reason as they settled on Mabel. She hugged both women and headed for the door. Mr. Desmond greeted her formally and gathered her luggage.

As the car pulled around the storefront of Elise’s Olde Tyme Gift Shop, Christina wondered if she’d ever see the place again.

 ~*~ 

Christina gazed down at the lakes and highways and developments that were the city of Greenich. It was beautiful from the air and she had no doubt that it would be equally beautiful when they landed. They flew in a small chartered craft that had met them at a neighboring airport. The pilot, a Johnny French, had been very friendly, and described all of the areas that they had flown over.

Michael Raven and Desmond had sat quietly in the back while Christina soaked up the geography lesson. Jason had slept in a baby carrier for the first half of the trip, and then lain contentedly through the last leg. That had eased one of her fears. She’d worried that the unfamiliar noise and motion would upset him. But it seemed Jason, like she, were born to fly. She decided that she would have to find time to go on vacation in the future.

As the plane descended toward the runway at Greenich airport, she held her breath. The wheels gently bumped the ground, bringing a delighted smile to her lips. Johnny French grinned over and gave her the thumbs up sign before tending to several gages on the very full control panel.

A car was waiting for them when they exited the plane. She saw Raven speaking quickly with someone who quickly loaded her and Jason’s cases in the trunk. Desmond led her toward the back seat and helped her load Jason and his carrier into the vehicle. Michael Raven was soon settled beside her.

"That was wonderful," she smiled over at him, though she knew he couldn’t see her. A return smile broke out on his face.

"It appears that you love to fly as much as I do," he replied. "And little Jason, my son, you were wonderful as well," he spoke in the direction of Jason’s carrier. The child was making happy gurgling noises, so Chris was sure that no one would have any problems finding him.

Christina laughed at him, "I think he’s a natural," she whispered conspiratorially.

Raven's smile broadened. "He would have to be."

Christina watched as the smile lingered on Michael Raven’s face. The lines she’d remembered from three days past, were less deep. And his coloring was better as well. She was beginning to understand what Jeannie may have seen in this man.

The car began moving as Desmond climbed into the front seat. Trees of many varieties lined the lane that led from the airport out onto the local highway system. Greenich was nothing like McAllister. Yes, McAllister had lots of trees, but none had the lush greenness of Greenich.

Finally the car pulled into a driveway that seemed to go on forever. After some minutes, they pulled around a curve and a sprawling white-pillared home appeared. Christina’s mouth dropped at the sight. This was possibly the most beautiful home she’d ever seen.

"Welcome to Raven’s Rest," Michael said at her side, and he was smiling again. "Everything should be prepared for our arrival."

"Right," Chris said, awestruck at the sheer size of the place. Dragging her eyes away from the site, she gathered Jason from the carrier and followed Desmond and Raven up the wide steps.

The foyer was just as breathtaking as the outside. A giant polished staircase stood off to one side and a marble fireplace on the other. An ocean of polished parquet flooring stood between the stairs and the front door. A room off to the left, near the fireplace, was occupied. Chris heard voices.

Georgiana Stanton accompanied by a curly haired gentleman carrying a briefcase stepped into view. Chris had a sinking feeling as the gentleman retrieved something from a pocket. His manner screamed lawyer.

"Hello Michael, Christina," the woman said. Then resting her eyes on Christina, "I appreciate everything you’ve done for my daughter. Especially for caring for my grandson. And I think it’s wonderful the way you, Dear Michael, are trying to care for him, now. But really, you must see that the child would be better off with me and family who can love and care for him?"

"No," Chris muttered, tightening her arms possessively around the child. "Jeannie left Jason in my care. You don’t have any right to him."

"Grandparents do have rights, young lady. In the eyes of the law, it is you who are the interloper." Then waving a hand at the gentleman at her side. "This is my lawyer, Mr. Lunari. He is here to protect my rights, and those of the well-being of the child. Michael is quite well meaning, but he is unfit."

Michael spoke up for the first time since they’d entered the house. His voice was deceptively calm. “Ms. Stanton, I ask that you and your attorney leave my home immediately. You are not to enter it again without my express permission. Any other communications you would like to make on this matter are to be made through my attorney."

Georgiana smiled wickedly. "I’m just here as a courtesy, to inform you of my intent," she said. "Wouldn’t want you to have to try to find someone to read it to you."

Chris glanced between the retreating duo and Michael. He was shaking with rage. Christina wasn’t doing much better. How a person could be so mean, she couldn’t understand. The woman hadn’t wanted to raise her own daughter and now, she was trying to gain custody of her grandson. And during the entire time that she’d stood making her threats she hadn’t once looked at the child.

Raven stood very still for long moments after the front door closed. When Jason began to whimper, Raven fidgeted slightly; a helpless gesture for assistance. He’d gotten angry and lost his bearings. Chris imagined that angered him even more.

Desmond cleared his throat. "Would you like to show Ms. Belcuri to the nursery?"

Raven seemed to relax by force of will. "Yes, thank you, Desmond." He allowed himself to be lead as the four of them slowly made their way through a side hall and to a door on the lower level.

"This will be your room, Ms. Belcuri, " Desmond said. "It adjoins the nursery." Opening the door he led them all in. The room was breathtaking, done in yellows and creams. A large king sized bed looked small in this room. Glass doors at the side of the room opened to a patio that led to a garden beyond.

"Will it be suitable?" Raven asked. Desmond looked on smiling, as he could see her reaction.

"It's perfect," Chris breathed. "Your home is very beautiful."

Raven smiled then. "Thank you. The nursery is through the other door." Desmond led the way.

The nursery had every modern convenience. There was a new crib and a rocking chair and music boxes and wall hangings -- all the things Chris could possibly have wanted for her baby. If she had a baby, she reminded herself. She couldn’t forget that Jason was Mr. Raven’s son. But not for long, if Georgiana got her way. Chris fervently hoped that she didn’t. Because then, Chris knew for a certainty, she would never see Jason again.

Chris put the child in the crib that had been prepared for him and wound the music box. As a lilting melody tinkled out of the device, small airplanes flew in circles. Jason was transfixed, and delivered several kicks of delight. Chris couldn’t help but to laugh at him.

As the music continued on, his eyes began to drift closed. His breathing evened into the steady patterns of sleep.

"Thank you Desmond." Raven whispered.

"Yes, sir." Desmond replied, then immediately left the room.

"There's a monitor in your room that you can take within a certain range." Raven told her. "If you'll lead, we can go into the other room and talk."

Chris gave him her arm and led him out of the nursery. "Could we go into the gardens?" she asked. It was so beautiful, she wondered what it would smell like.

"Of course. My mother used to like to sit out here when I was younger."

Chris opened the doors and led him out. "There's a bench to the left where we can sit," he said.

Chris, copying motions she’d seen Desmond make, led him to the bench. At first they sat silently, listening to the gentle sounds of birds singing and the flow of the wind. The smell of many flowers flavored the air, adding to the general serenity of the place.

After a time, Michael Raven began speaking. "I’m sorry you had to witness that scene. When I told her about Jason, she’d seemed happy - like you’d expect any grandparent to be. I should have known better than to take Georgiana at face value."

Chris wasn’t entirely sure what to make of his last sentence. "What I don’t understand is why she is doing this. You said that she lives in a nearby city, so she could always visit. And from the way she simply left Jeannie with her sister, and the fact that she didn’t even look at Jason, I wouldn’t imagine that she has some great longing to mother. She probably wouldn’t even know him if he turned up in a basket on her doorstep."

Raven chuckled mildly, "You’re probably right. But you could say the same of me."

"No you couldn’t," Christina objected.

"I’ll bet you’d know him, by the way he feels, by the way he smells and sounds. I’ve seen you take in all those things about him."

Michael smiled, pleased. "Thank you," he said softly. "I really want what is best for that little boy. But, I’m afraid I know why Georgiana is doing this. If she were to gain custody of Jason, then she could also file for me to pay child support. That could prove very lucrative for her. I believe she may be especially upset since Jeannie left her life insurance to you."

"I’d give her the money if it would make her stop." Chris said.

"It won’t," Michael shook his head. "She’s probably decided that she can get more out of me."

"She won’t take care of him, Mr. Raven," Chris insisted. "She’d treat him just like she did Jeannie, just leave him behind somewhere. You can’t let her get away with this."

"I don’t have a lot of choice in the matter. If I can’t prove to a judge that I would be a fit parent, then she could win her case. Despite how much I want it to be so, I haven’t recovered from my accident. I have several more surgeries to go through, and there is no other family available to care for him."

"What would you have to do to prove you were a fit parent?" Christine asked. She wanted to help in any way she could to save Jason from the life Jeannie had.

"In my present condition the only thing that would convince a judge would be if I were married, then there would be no problem at all and Georgie would have no basis for her claims."

"I don't suppose you have a girlfriend?" Chris asked.

Raven grinned. "You're going to help me find a wife now, are you?"

"Sure," Christine said, "Now what type of woman do you like?"

"Sweet, gentle, kind, loving, someone who will love Jason and take care of him as if he were her own. Someone who would be a good mother to him. Someone like...you. If you could find someone just like you, I'd be willing."

"Well, it's just your luck I happen to be free," Chris responded, thinking briefly back to the argument she had earlier with Larry.

Raven sat silent for a second. "Are you really? Free?" he asked finally. "No boyfriends back home, waiting with bated breath for your return?"

Chris squelched the image of Larry that cropped up. Their relationship had been going nowhere for years. And the situation with Jason had brought many of the reasons why to the fore. Larry would never settle down to a normal life with a home and a family. She was alone.

Shaking her head, she answered, "Nope, it's just me." She held her breath.

"Would you really consider it then? For Jason?" He asked.

"Yes, I would." She answered without hesitation.

Raven let his breathe go, before answering, "If you do decide to go through with this, it would have to be soon. Georgie would probably want to have a hearing as quickly as possible."

"I understand," Chris said suddenly feeling very self conscious. She was definitely getting the better end of the deal. She could have Jason as her own son and also, this beautiful home to live in... Raven cut into her thoughts.

"After the issue is settled and I am able to take better care of Jason, you could be released from the marriage. Or earlier if you desired, as long as Georgiana was no longer a threat."

Chris paused in her imaginings. Because that was all they were. Jason would not be her son. But, she couldn't allow Georgiana Stanton to use Jason to get money for herself. Marriage was a very serious step, not something one planned on leaving at a set date. But if Raven didn’t want to remain tied down to her... For Jason, she would do this. But she couldn’t let it be for nothing.

"What happens if you never regain your sight?" Chris asked.

"I'm confident that I will." He said, "If there's some unexpected problem, we can cross that bridge when and if we come to it."

Chris nodded, "I'll do it, but I have one request first."

"Yes?"

"I want equal custody of Jason, no matter what happens."

"Okay," Raven sighed. "I promise you that. I'll have my lawyers draw up a contract if you like."

Chris considered him. She trusted him, but people changed. "Okay, that'll be fine." The sunshine had gone out of the day for her. She was now involved in a business arrangement of a kind she had never expected.