by Livia Balaban
Rated G = V, Equivocal but content ruminations.
Spoilers: all things
Summary: I am coming, she was telling me. Follow me, pay attention, and
I will come.
Before she was mine, she was mine.
"...Mallory Jordan...Kayleigh Kiplinger..."
I recognize her, but not in the usual way. Normally, I see the angle of her jaw or the shape of her nose, and I know she is mine. I see her beauty and her warm smile, I see the intelligence dancing behind her eyes, and I know who she is - the person she is, the soul she possesses.
"...Jeremy Larson..."
But this is different. For the first time in years, I recognize her, not for who she has become, or even who she has become to me. I see rather who she was to me all those years ago. I see the playful sparkle from here, and I know who she is now, without question.
She is the one who led me to my future. She is the one who appeared and kept me safe, she is the one who drew me into that sun-dappled, foreign place. She is the one who led me to the decision that brought her into being.
"...Gail Lorimer..."
I may never be able to explain this satisfactorily, and when I look to my right, I see the question in my husband's eyes. Soft crinkles of age surround his eyes, but do nothing to diminish the intensity of his gaze. He has been watching me again. I look forward again, at the tall, lean figure obscured by vibrant blue polyester, at the long blonde hair topped by a mortarboard and tassel. But I know that figure, I know that hair, I know that knowing smile.
It may be as simple a matter as proximity. I have been too close to her to see it. I have watched her grow and mature, registering only minute changes from day to day.
"...Wendy Mazzello..."
Half-hidden in line, she turns to us suddenly, unsurprised by our open scrutiny: Mine of her, and his of me. There has always been this kind of linear admiration. I remember when she was small, how he would stare at her for hours, and I would be satisfied to soak up the love and wonder in his expression. Mine of him, his of her. Now her smile opens, and her happiness spills out to us.
"...Carl Mobrey..."
Despite my pride in her accomplishments, and despite my love for her kind, mischievous soul, I recognize now the oldness of that soul. It has known ours, has been linked to us so strongly it slipped out of time - or the heavens - to find me, to announce its own arrival.
"...Louise Montoya..."
Only now do I recognize her, and only now do I understand that she appeared to me for the last time to announce her conception that very night. I am coming, she was telling me. Follow me, pay attention, and I will come.
I touched her then, but it was her father who turned to me with a faint smile.
I would like to tell her, to thank her, but I dare not lead her back to such a dangerous hobby. So I smile and take her father's hand in mine, completing a chain of admiration and love - mine for her, and his for us.
"... Gabriel Morales...Gerardo Morales..."
Somehow he knows. "She was blonde, wasn't she?" he asks.
I smile, my attention focused completely at the line of graduates streaming to the steps. "Yes," I reply softly over the droning recitation of names.
"You think we've known her before?"
I like the idea of it. "Maybe."
"Maybe she's Samantha," he murmurs warmly. "She led me once. Maybe it was her turn to lead you."
He will never change. I kiss his cheek in gratitude.
"...Amanda Mulder..."
He squeezes my hand, and I turn back to the platform. We watch in silent satisfaction as our only child receives her PhD.
Perhaps someday we will speak of it. I know I will be tempted when I see her next in a ponytail, but I will likely hold my tongue. She is beginning her own life in earnest today. We will do nothing to tempt her back toward her interest in the paranormal. I squeeze my husband's hand again as a reminder.
"Yes, dear," he whispers playfully.
For now, she is safe from the beautiful truth.
=====
End.
Thanks to: Sabine, Alicia, JHJ, and Token for the beta. Wen for being very bright indeed. YesVirginia, I'm grateful.
