Grace: Full Circle

 

          Paul Blaisdell moved along the tunneled connection from the airplane to the airport terminal. The couple in front of him, weighted down with far more carry-on luggage than any one person could ever use, plodded on. He wondered that such a short journey could take so long. 

            Already he could feel the difference in temperature. Funny that just a year living 'down south' could spoil him for the cold. But when Peter had left a message, murmuring something about big changes in his life, and could he come down to his and Annie's for a visit, Paul had immediately picked up the phone and tried to return his call. After 8 hours of nothing beyond an answering machine at Peter's apartment and an almost collective 'you should talk to Peter' from Kermit, Strenlich, Blake, and Broderick, he'd booked a reservation on the next flight out.

            Now, if he could just get around the log jam, he could grab a rental car and go find Peter. The only times in the past the kid -- who was he calling a kid, Peter was thirty now -- was difficult to find was when he was in trouble. Or hiding out. Paul wasn't sure what it would be this time. Peter's voice hadn't sounded overly upset on the voice mail, but he'd changed so much over the past year since he'd completed his Shaolin training. Sometimes he could be downright low-key. Okay, low key for Peter.

            "Excuse me." Paul couldn't take it anymore. He brushed cautiously around the couple in front of him, careful not to jostle them too much and then he was free of the tunnel. The terminal was much busier than he'd expected, and the line at the rental desk didn't look like it could be navigated in anything approaching a reasonable amount of time. And he just couldn't wait. He hit the cab stand out front and gave the driver the address to Peter's apartment.

            The town was just the way he remembered and yet different. They'd widened Summer Mill Road, and they were building new condos near the edge of Chinatown. Peter had totaled his first car on Summer Mill. Come to think of it, he'd severely damaged his third one there as well. Both times had something to do with a woman, if he remembered correctly.

            Could that be it? Hadn't Peter said that he was seeing an officer steadily? A Jordan somebody? God, could Peter be planning to get married? Or children? Paul smiled at that thought. Another grandchild would do his heart good.

            If Peter was planning to marry, Paul was sure it would be much more serious than it had been with Tyler. Peter was so much more mature. As he'd been with Rebecca. Paul regretted deeply that he'd been too far away to help when the trouble had arisen surrounding Rebecca Calvert's murder. In fact, he'd been under such deep cover that it had been a month before he'd even heard the news.

            He'd missed so many things back then. But he had arrived back home in time to welcome his first grandchild into the world. Shortly after, Todd and Carolyn had been transferred to Florida. Kelly had gone off to college at Florida State. And then with Peter planning to be gone for an indeterminate amount of time to learn more about his Shaolin side, it had seemed only natural to temporarily relocate. Somehow temporary had stretched to a year.

            Could Peter be feeling neglected? Despite the fact that they spoke often, at least once a week, they hadn't visited in over three months. Worse, maybe he was ill? Hadn't Peter's mother died of some mysterious ailment when she was Peter's age?

            Paul felt his heart drop to his feet. That couldn't be it. He wouldn't even think about that. He deliberately pushed that thought out of his mind and tried to focus on the scenery outside of the window.

            As the cab pulled past the street where Caine's old kwoon had been four years prior, he waved to the cabbie and directed him toward the elder Caine's current abode. Caine would know where Peter was and what was going on with him. Besides, Caine's place was closer, and maybe he'd be better prepared to deal with the problem if he spoke with Caine first.

            He already had his money ready when the cab pulled to a halt at the front of the building. He made quick work of moving across the snow covered sidewalk toward the front door.

            Upstairs, the door to the outer corridor closed quietly behind him as he tried to determine where to start looking for Peter's father.

            "Paul?"

            Paul froze at the sound of the familiar voice and then quickened his pace toward the direction of the voice. He arrived to find Peter standing in the middle of the room alone. Caine was nowhere in sight.

            "What are you doing here?" Peter approached and the two of them embraced. "Is Mom with you?"

            "No," Paul shook his head, still trying to calm his heart at seeing Peter looking relatively well. "I got your message, son. I tried to call, but when I couldn't get through to you or anyone at the precinct who'd give me a straight answer, I decided to come here. I figured Caine could tell me something, or at least let me know that you were okay."

            "I'm sorry," Peter apologized. "I didn't mean to worry you. I'm fine. Really. I just wanted to talk to you."

            "You're sure you're okay?" Paul looked at him closely. Unless he was mistaken, Peter's eyes were a little bright as if he'd been fighting tears recently. And despite the layer of calm that seemed to surround him, his practiced father's eyes noted the small signals that said that there was something more going on.

            "I'm okay." Peter reaffirmed. Paul knew that there was more.

            "The beginning is usually a great place," Paul hinted.

            Peter's brow drew together in confusion.

            "To start," Paul suggested with a small hopeful smile.

            "Oh, yeah." Peter returned the smile and Paul immediately felt relieved. If Peter could smile, how bad could it be? An engagement definitely wasn't it. Maybe a broken one? Or was he turned down by Jordan?

            "I guess the most of it you already know," Peter started, pacing as he went. "All the way up until I decided to complete my Shaolin training."

            Paul nodded, not certain of where this was going. "I remember when you came back. I remember how proud I was of you that you'd been able to meld the gifts of both your fathers."

            Peter chuckled. "Yeah I became a Shaolin cop." His expression sobered. "Back then I think I was more cop than Shaolin. But that changed gradually over the past year."

            Paul thought he was beginning to understand. "Now you feel more Shaolin than cop?"

            Peter didn't answer with words, but merely rolled up his sleeves and presented his bent arms.

            Paul was stunned. "My God, Peter." He stared down at the angry raised marks in the shape of the tiger and the dragon. They looked so fresh, new. He lifted a hand above them, but didn't touch them.

            "Does it hurt?"

            "Like hell."

            "I'll bet," Paul chuckled. This he could handle. "Does it make you feel any different?"

            Peter didn't return his smile this time, but merely re-buttoned his shirt sleeves. "I resigned from the police force."

            Paul blinked. "You resigned?" This was the last thing he'd expected. Sometimes he wondered that Peter wasn't born to be a cop. And when he saw how Caine often acted as protector, he figured that it was simply genetic. No, this wasn't what he'd expected at all.

            Peter wouldn't meet his gaze. His response was a nod and a subdued, "I know you're disappointed, and I'm sorry to spring all of this stuff on you like this."

            Fatherly warnings started going off in Paul's head. As soon as he got over being speechless he would address them. He simply couldn't quite fathom Peter not wanting to be a cop. He'd thought, if anything, the outcome of the completion of his Shaolin training had proven that.

            "I'm sorry I disappointed you," Peter repeated as the silence stretched. He gaze edged up to meet Paul's and then flittered away. The deep sadness there tugged at Paul's heart, drawing him out of his momentary stupor.

            "I'm not disappointed in you," Paul hastened to reassure him. "It's just that I'm surprised. I wasn't expecting this, and I don't understand why you left."

            Peter shrugged in a manner that seemed so reminiscent of Caine that for a panicked moment, Paul began to wonder if he knew his son any more at all. But then, Peter look at him with a patented Peter Caine plea for understanding. "There were some things going on. I broke the cop's code and went after a fellow officer. A dirty one. But aside from that, it was time for me to leave, to take a step back and assess my life. See where I was going."

            Paul wanted to ask why he hadn't tried a leave of absence over turning in his badge, but thought better of it. There was something in Peter's tone that told him that there was a deeper meaning behind the words. Paul wasn't sure what it was -- he wasn't even sure that Peter knew.

            He began to wonder about his role in Peter's career choice. Had Peter remained a cop for him? That Peter had followed in his line of work had been flattering, and Peter had been so eager to please once he'd accepted that he was a part of the family. Paul wondered if he had pushed in any way. "Do you regret it?" he asked. "Becoming a cop, I mean."

            Peter chuckled slightly.  "That's funny. Pop asked me the same question, only in reverse. No, I don't regret ever becoming a cop. Not a bit."

            Paul eased out a breath, hoping that Peter didn't catch it. But he had to be sure. "So you never felt forced in anyway?"

            Peter's look turned confused. "No Paul. Of course not. Even at the temple I secretly thought about how cool it would be to become a cop. I think being a police officer was a necessary part of my path."

            Paul eyed the young man whom he'd seen grow from an insecure adolescent to a capable, strong, and honorable man. It touched him deeply just to look at him and see the growth and know that maybe, in some small way, he'd had a part in it.

            "That sounds almost like something your father would say."

            Peter offered a small sad smile. "Yeah."

            Paul pressed a hand against Peter's shoulder. "I've always been proud of you, son. I can't say your decision to leave the force doesn't come as a surprise but I support you. Wherever your path leads you. You're going to make one hell of a Shaolin priest."

            Peter's smile broadened and they moved into a hug. "Thanks Paul," he whispered. Paul wasn't sure, but he thought his voice was a bit husky, and more than a little subdued.

            Paul patted his back and pulled out of the embrace. "So what's the new phrase going to be?" he asked jokingly. "Come to Chinatown, ask for Caine, and they will help you?"

            Peter's smile faltered, and Paul's heart plummeted. Oh God, what else?

            "You just missed, Pop," Peter said. "He's left on a journey."

            Paul's heart melted in sympathy. He might not understand what it meant to be Shaolin, but he knew that the step of taking the brands had been a big one for Peter; equally as big as resigning. That was a lot to deal with in a few short days. Caine had to have had a very good reason for leaving.

            "Has he gone to find his path again?" Paul asked.

            "No. My mother."

            Paul's brows rose in surprise. "Forgive me, Peter. But I thought your mother died a very long time ago."

            Peter shrugged. "That may not be the truth. He's going to go find out."

            Paul had absolutely no idea what to do with that one. It was a can of  worms that could lead to places that he wasn't prepared to go. Strange things, it seemed, happened in the line of  Caine. His main concern was for Peter. "I'm sure he will," he said simply. "Are you going to be okay?"

            "Yeah." Peter nodded. "He'll be back. He asked me to take care of his place while he's gone."

            Paul read between the lines. While he would greatly miss his father, he wouldn't go to pieces. But also, he was masking his disappointment that after two momentous events in his life, he was alone. This Paul could deal with. What were foster fathers for, after all, but to step in when natural fathers could not? Goodness. He was starting to sound like Caine, too.

            "Annie is all wrapped up with the baby. Why don't I stick around for a few days. I'd like to see the new Shaolin priest of the family in action."

            A real smile lit Peter's features. "That'd be great."

            "Good." Paul grinned. "Now, if it isn't in terribly bad form, I'd like to take my son to dinner to celebrate his new status."

            Peter's smile grew. "No, it isn't bad form. In fact, if you don't mind, I know this great new place that you'll like."

            Paul chuckled as he followed Peter out of the room. "Wonderful."   

            Shaolin priest or no, his son could still talk a hole in the wall. The words weren't spoken with a frantic pace as he used to do in the past, but the description of the restaurant he had in mind took them all the way down the stairs.

            Paul came to a halt on the passenger side door of the Stealth. Peter and his too-low-to-the-ground sports cars. Obviously being Shaolin hadn't changed that about him either.

            "What?" Peter asked, apparently noting something in his expression.

            "I was just thinking. Maybe I ought to rent a car while I'm here. . . "