Characters: Maude, OMC (sorta), Chris
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything but my cute little Ford Ranger. This is my first posted M7 fic so please be nice.
She stood by the bedside, running her fingers through his tousled hair. He looked so young. Quietly, she began speaking, trying not to disturb the other men sleeping around the small room.“I know you wouldn’t approve, my darling. I know you would have done so many things differently if you had been here to raise him, but I did the best I could. Moreover, despite my lack of parenting skills, he has turned into a fine young man, Cayden. You’d be so proud.”
She chuckled as she watched her son sleep. “Right now he’s engaging his all time favorite pastime, sleeping. He absolutely hates to be awoken before he’s good and ready,” she smiled. “So I know there at least a little of me in him. He has my curls and fair skin, as well. I’m not sure which he abhors more, the curls or his tendency to freckle. Not that one can actually see those freckles. He has to be standing in just the right amount of sunlight for them to be seen.
“He also has my ‘gift of gab’ as you always called it. I swear I have seen him carry on six different conversations with his compatriots and never miss a single thing. That’s one thing that makes him so good at this horrible job that he adores.
“But, my darling, I see plenty of you in him as well. Those absolutely gorgeous eyes in particular. I wonder if he realizes the power in those eyes. From the time he was born, I had perfect strangers falling all over themselves once they got a look into those emerald pools.
“And, that mischievous little smirk of yours is mirrored in your child. I swear there are times when, in league with young Messrs Dunne and Tanner, that he could be your twin, Cayden. It’s positively eerie. I can catch a glimpse of him and for a moment, I swear it’s you coming to greet me.
“He has your love of music, as well… and my musically ability, thank God. Really, Cayden, you loved to sing and bang on any instrument you could lay you hands on, but you were atrocious. Ezra could easily have been a concert pianist. Unfortunately, he inherited your noble streak. He, and the rest of the men, most of whom are far too young, he serves with, feels like he needs to save the world. If they wish to do so, fine, but can’t they find a suitable occupation that doesn’t require them to risk so much?
“He scared me this time, Cayden. He almost died. According to Mr. Jackson, his heart stopped before they reached the hospital. And, he could still die.” Unwanted tears trickled down her cheeks. “But that, young man, is completely unacceptable. Do you understand me, Ezra Peyton? You will recover so we can continue to antagonize one another.
“He never says it, Cayden, but I know he misses you. The memories he has of those first five years he holds sacred, in a place where no one can touch them. They are his most valuable possession. That’s something else he gets from me,” she admitted. “Those were the very best years of my life, those five years after Ezra’s birth. We were the epitome of happy.”
Maude stepped back, adjusting the blanket over her sleeping son. Looking around the room, she noticed that all of the men need the same attention. Quickly and quietly, she completed her self-appointed chore before returning to Ezra’s bedside.
Leaning over, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Continue to watch over our baby, Cayden,” she instructed. “And, if it’s not too much, keep an eye out for the rest of these fools as well. They’ve come to mean a lot not only to Ezra, but to me as well, not that I’d ever allow them knowledge of this. It wouldn’t serve me well to let them know that, now would it?”
Gathering her coat, she made her way to the door, pausing as she passed the chair occupied by her son’s boss. Pulling back, she landed a none-too-gentle swat across the side of his head.
“It’s not polite to listen in on other’s conversations, Mr. Larabee,” she scolded, in her best angry mother voice. “You should have let me know when you woke up.” Looking deeply into his hazel eyes, she admonished, “What you overheard is not for public dissemination.”
At his nod, she continued on her way out the door. “Tell Ezra that when all of you come to your senses and leave you’re pedantic employment, you’ll all have jobs waiting for you at the casino I’m in the process of acquiring. My current paramour owns several and I should get at least one in the divorce. Also, inform my son that I have information on a certain Swiss heiress and I will gladly share it with him.”
Without waiting for a reply, she was out the door, just like the whirlwind the team associated with her.
Taking a deep breath, Chris settled back into his “comfy” hospital chair, his world once again on an even keel. When her voice had awoken him, he’d thought he was hallucinating. What else could he think? Maude was there, beside Ezra’s hospital bed, a first as far as he knew, and was actually reacting like a normal mother, caring and terrified at the events of the last day. However, her parting remarks were enough to assure him that the old Maude, the one the team knew and tolerated, sometimes, was alive and well in the Pod Person who’d been there. On the other hand, maybe she was one of the Stepford Wives they’d seen over the weekend.
Yeah, that had to be it, he decided just before he dozed off. That had to be the answer.
The End
The song that got my muse screaming in my ear is Reba McEntire’s He Gets That from Me, written by Steve Jones and Phillip White, from her album “Room to Breathe”.
His early mornin' attitude:
You have to drag him out of bed.
Only frosted flakes will do,
He gets that from me:
Yeah, he gets that from me.
His curly hair and his knobbly knees: The way the sun brings those freckles out.
Talk and talk, never miss a beat,
Yeah, he gets that from me:
He gets that from me.
He looks at me with those big brown eyes:
He's got me in the palm of his hands,
And I swear sometimes it's just like you're here again.
He smiles that little crooked smile:
There's no denying he's your child.
Without him I don't know what I'd do:
He gets that from you:
Oh, he gets that from you.
How he loves your old guitar: Yeah, he's taught himself to play.
He melts my heart: tells me he love me every day.
And cracks jokes at the perfect time,
Makes me laugh when I want to cry.
That boy is everything to me:
He gets that from you:
He gets that from you.
Last night, I heard him pray:
Lord, help me and mama make it through.
An' tell Daddy we'll be okay:
He said he sure misses you:
He sure misses you.
He really misses you:
He gets that from me.