Re: Say the Words - ch.39 -- The Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman Fan Exchange

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Date Posted: 07:53:38 03/26/03 Wed
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: Say the Words - ch.39
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Say the Words - ch.38" on 07:49:45 03/26/03 Wed

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

"How does that feel Sophie?" Stephanie waited while Sophie took her first tentative steps without her walking cast.

"Good," Sophie replied, gingerly placing her full weight on her injured ankle.

Then, wincing slightly at the unaccustomed pressure, Sophie decided to amend her statement. "Stiff, but good."

"You should expect some tenderness in that area for at least another month," Stephanie explained in detail. "But, hopefully, you'll be as good as new by the wedding."

Sophie's broad smile was interrupted by Stephanie's next, stern warning, "That is, if you don't push it."

"I mean it, Sophie," Stephanie continued, trying to impress her words on Sophie's psyche. "That ankle is still healing. Please try not to overdo."

"I will�" Sophie promised quickly.

"Exercise is fine, in moderation; but, if you feel any discomfort, ease back for a while. Let the ankle get used to doing its job again, okay?" Dr. Burke implored her.

Sophie nodded agreeably as she took a few more practice laps around Stephanie's office, her face beaming at her newfound freedom.

First her cast, then the wedding� Sophie's priorities were very clear. Though the wedding was still over a month away, her excitement had been building - steadily - ever since Frank's birthday party, as a matter of fact. Sophie's eyes sparkled and her body warmed with the memory of the passionate kisses she and Peter had shared that night.

Now with her cast finally removed, Sophie could concentrate fully on what, undoubtedly, would be the most important day of her life. Eagerly, she made her way toward the door and her first unhindered steps into the outside world.

With one hand firmly on the doorknob for support, Sophie looked back cheerfully in Stephanie's direction and winked, "See you at the wedding�"

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Ezra found Daisy sitting pensively beneath the gazebo. Silently, he joined her, unwilling to disturb her reverie.

"I suppose it's a fitting place to be married," Daisy mused, pulling her jacket snugly about her. "Add a few twinkling lights and some flowers and it could actually be quite pretty�"

"What's Mrs. Mitchell doing?" Ezra asked curiously, spying Charity pacing out the perimeter of what commonly served as their football field.

"Measuring�" Daisy intoned with little inflection to her voice. She was still lost in her thoughts, imagining what it would be like to be married beneath the gazebo.

Of course, it would never happen. She would never be a wife or a mother - at least to a human being, anyway. Daisy wrinkled her mouth in a wistful smirk as she pictured fondly in her mind the tiny egg offspring she'd been given - belatedly - as part of their infamous class project. But, alas, miraculous events such as motherhood and starry evening weddings to the man of one's dreams just didn't happen to girls like Daisy Graves.

"Measuring for what?" Ezra was fascinated as he watched Charity survey the area.

"Proper chair alignment and potential visual obstructions," Daisy recited word for word Charity's concern over the seating arrangements for the wedding guests.

"She's a very capable woman�" Daisy noted with chilling respect and awe.

"She likes you," Ezra smiled proudly as Charity sent a blithe wave in their direction.

"She says I'm WALPOC material," Daisy informed Ezra with a touch of amazement in her voice.

"Is that good or bad?" Ezra inquired lightly.

"I'm not sure�" Daisy answered solemnly, weighing the compliment.

"So, I haven't seen much of you lately," Daisy commented, staring straight ahead, trying her best to sound disinterested in Ezra's latest whereabouts.

"I've been working on a theory," Ezra began hesitantly.

"And that would be?" Curious, Daisy leaned comfortably back against the gazebo post and pulled her feet up onto the bench, wrapping her arms around her knees. Ezra now had her undivided attention.

"The old woman at Oakhaven is a ghost," Ezra stated with firm conviction.

"A ghost�" Daisy repeated, eyes wide with disbelief.

"The ghost of a doctor from the late 1800's," Ezra added for clarification.

Daisy nodded pensively and rubbed her chin with her thumb. "You've been sniffing the cleaning fluid again, haven't you?" she asked with a straight face and a worried frown, her hand resting gently on Ezra's arm.

Disappointed at Daisy's insinuation, Ezra refused her touch and pushed her hand away, noting sharply, "That hurts, Daise, especially from the Mistress of the Occult."

"I'm sorry�it's just that�" Daisy was at a loss for words. Tarot cards and tea leaves were one thing but ghosts�?

"And how are you both this glorious spring day?" Unknowingly, Charity interrupted a conversation that would have been of considerable interest to her.

"Fine, thanks," Ezra mumbled grumpily, wounded by Daisy's lack of faith. "But I've gotta be going�" With that, Ezra stood to leave.

"Nonsense! I need you both right here," Charity pulled Ezra back and placed Daisy by his side, facing them toward the gazebo, framing them within its tiered entrance.

"For what?" Daisy asked, fearing Charity's full power unleashed.

"Why, to be my bride and groom, of course," Charity replied light-heartedly as she moved directly in front of them, assuming Curtis' place as Justice of the Peace.

"Daisy, you'll be Sophie," Charity chimed enthusiastically, "and Ezra, you'll be Peter."

"Well, at least, she's gender-specific," Daisy opted to look on the bright side.

Ezra puffed like a proud peacock beside her. "Typecast as the dark, handsome hero once again," he suffered quite willingly.

Charity's makeshift rehearsal proceeded without incident - except, perhaps, for the moment when Charity reached the part where she, joyfully, "now pronounced them husband and wife."

At that, both Daisy and Ezra shifted their weight uncomfortably and pointedly avoided each other's gaze. They stood remarkably frozen to their assigned spots, stunned by an eerie sense of prophecy. Was it possible�? Would they ever�?

Daisy glanced furtively at Ezra, then turned away before their eyes could meet. "Could Ezra Friedkin really be the man of my dreams?" she wondered in soulful contemplation, the slightest smile forming on her lips.

Only inches apart, Ezra, too, was imagining a life with Daisy forever by his side. "Mrs. Ezra Friedkin," he smiled contentedly to himself.

Almost as if she'd heard Ezra's thoughts, Daisy, too, considered the inharmonious moniker in her head. "Daisy Graves�Friedkin?" Instantly, she felt a shiver run up her spine, followed by an overwhelming desire to consult her numerology - and keep her maiden name.

"Peter," Charity addressed Ezra in his featured role, "you may now kiss your bride and then the candlelit buffet and dancing under the stars will begin."

Quite pleased with her preparations, Charity sighed exhaustedly, overcome by the moment.

Ever so tentatively, Ezra leaned toward Daisy, wondering if he should, indeed, kiss his bride. But before Daisy had even become aware of his movements, she suddenly realized there was one small addition to the wedding about which Mrs. Mitchell had yet to be informed.

Quickly, Daisy turned her head toward Charity, leaving Ezra's lips pursed in thin air.

"Mrs. Mitchell?" Daisy raised her voice sweetly in Charity's direction, hoping her announcement would not antagonize Peter's domineering aunt.

"Daisy, dear, you must call me Charity, especially if you'll be joining Sophie at our next WALPOCS meeting�" Charity's voice was just as uncharacteristically sweet and endearing as Daisy's as she laid her trap.

For, Charity was not about to let Daisy get away. The WALPOCS were Charity's legacy and, since Sophie couldn't have children, Charity saw in Daisy a worthy successor to the intrepid pioneer spirit of the women of Colorado Springs. Or, put another way, Charity would bet the saloon that one Daisy Graves could take three Randolph P. Lodges without breaking so much as a fingernail!

"Charity�" Politely, Daisy corrected her form of address and leaned conspiratorially into the older woman's ear.

"There's a little something I need to tell you about the reception�"

^^^^^^^^^^

"You can't do this to me, Charles!" Alex shouted irately.

Entering the warehouse hangar, Sophie overheard her father's raised voice and decided it would be best not to interrupt.

Quietly, she stood unobserved behind the doorway, watching as Alex continued his heated conversation with another RCAF officer in full dress uniform - the wings on the man's jacket indicating he was a pilot just like her father.

"I," Sophie listened intently as the man named Charles made a point of stressing that particular pronoun, "am not doing anything to you, Alex."

The animosity between the two was clearly evident; and, perplexed, Sophie's brow furrowed, wondering what the argument could possibly be about.

"And you'll watch your tone with me, Mister!" Charles cautioned Alex additionally.

Sophie was taken aback to hear her father reprimanded so harshly.

"Remember, I outrank you�" Charles threatened severely.

"Gee, thanks for the newsflash, Lt. Commander Armstrong. How could I forget when you've only been reminding me for the last twenty years?" Obviously, the Lieutenant's warning hadn't affected Alex's snide tone in the least.

"Commissioned two days before me and you've held it over my head like the Sword of Damacles," Alex virtually spit his reply in Charles' face.

"You can't still be holding a grudge against me after all these years?" Charles mocked Alexander in the most condescending tone possible.

"Nah," Alex responded bitterly, "little thing like finding you in bed with my wife�why would I hold a grudge over that?"

Sophie paled instantly and bit her lip to keep from making a sound. With a gulp, she steadied her hand against the doorknob. Then, recovering slightly, she peeked, unseen, from around the door - just for a split second - just long enough to take a good look at Lieutenant Commander Charles Armstrong.

Sophie was only eleven the last time she saw him, for less than a minute. Though she couldn't recall the face for certain, the pain of that moment was etched in her soul - the moment she and Alex had walked in unsuspectingly to find her mother in bed with another man.

Her parents had taken great pains to shield her after that and Sophie never recalled hearing the man's name before now. It echoed dizzingly in her head�Charles Armstrong.

"Think what you like," Charles retorted, seeing no need to rehash the past indiscretions of his younger days, "but I had nothing to do with this, Alex."

"The Prime Minister's office called yesterday requesting The Snowbirds in Ottawa," Charles explained, impatient to be on his way.

"Now, I'm sorry if the P. M.'s luncheon with the new U.S. President happens to conflict with your heroic farewell to arms but it seems the President's father has decided to accompany him on this trip and he's a skydiving enthusiast�even made a jump himself, once, as I recall."

Snidely, Charles derided the photo he'd seen of the patriarch's first attempt at parachuting. Charles had little patience for grandstanding, be it Alex's or some aging politician's.

"And I bet you were just thrilled to oblige him," Alex answered with a scowl.

"I was thrilled to carry out my orders, Lieutenant," Charles admonished, like the deskbound, bootlicking, lacky he'd become.

"Or maybe the illustrious Alexander Becker is above the chain of command now?" Charles added, not even attempting to hide his jealousy as he continued to rile Alexander further.

"I could have left you nothing!" Charles fumed angrily, almost regretting that he'd come in person rather than phoned. "But because you've been foolish enough to keep flying - and serving your country - long after your doctor, the Air Force, and common sense would have dictated otherwise, I'm giving you one plane and one pilot."

"Oh, and I'm supposed to be grateful?" Alex seethed furiously.

"You're supposed to wave to the crowd, make your little jump and retire gracefully to that Rest Home you're benefitting," Charles belittled him.

"That is, unless you'd like a desk assignment like mine?" he added, twisting the knife as Alex turned his face in disgust.

"Didn't think so�" Charles sneered with satisfaction.

Alex wasn't a fool. Deep down, he knew this couldn't all be Charles' doing. In spite of their decades-old feud, Charles didn't have the power to pull off something like this by himself. No, the Prime Minister had simply, and unwittingly, provided Charles with the opportunity that he, and many others, had been waiting for.

The entire upper echelon in RCAF command was dying to be rid of him. He'd been a thorn in their sides for years - constantly advocating safer training techniques and blowing the whistle on cost-saving measures that resulted in just the opposite. Paratrooping was a dangerous business and Alex refused to allow it to become more dangerous merely out of bureaucratic bungling. If that made him a renegade, then so be it.

Sure, they'd send him off to Tokyo or Istanbul hoping to minimize his notoriety and effectiveness but, somehow, he always had a knack for being in the right place at the right time. A hijacking�a kidnapping�and Alexander Becker was there - parachuting into a burning war zone, rescuing civilians, making headlines, and along with them, the power to espouse his scathing opinions. He made himself a legend among fliers, an icon to his squadrons� He was virtually untouchable - until recently.

One by one, patriots who had shared his convictions had retired, or softened into cushy desk jobs like Charles. There was little spark left now in any of his superior officers. They were all counting the minutes until they'd be rid of him for good. In the meantime, if they could make his retirement a little less dramatic, a little less auspicious, well, so much the better in their book.

Alex hid his emotions stoically but Sophie recognized the faintest hint of resignation in her father's eyes. No one else would have seen it but her, and seeing it almost broke her heart.

"Is there anything else you came here to tell me, Sir?" Alex asked defiantly, pulling himself up to his full height as he struggled to maintain his dignity against a man who had taken that from him once before, so many years ago.

"No, Alex," Charles shook his head, filled with misplaced pity.

Poor Maureen� She'd been so miserable married to Alexander. Vividly, Charles relived his version of their sordid past. Maureen deserved better than an immature show-off wrapped up in his own celebrity. She deserved a dependable, less mercurial man - someone who had known failure and learned from it - for, Charles' failure to make The Snowbirds had affected him deeply. Maureen needed a man who could make her feel loved�a man who could make her feel appreciated�a man who would always be there for her. She needed�him.

But, all that changed when Alex walked in on them together - with his little girl in tow, just to make matters worse. Charles cringed in recollection of that excruciatingly awkward moment. Maureen was understandably wracked with guilt, shrieking tearfully that it would never happen again. He'd half expected that she and Alexander would reconcile but he heard through the officer's grapevine that Maureen had left for New York the very next day, supposedly to visit an ailing relative.

And so, just as Maureen had pledged, Charles never held her in his arms again. But then, neither did Alexander.

At the time, Charles felt some sense of satisfaction that Alex, too, had lost, but witnessing Alexander's final comeuppance in person was even more gratifying. Almost made it worth the trip�

Sophie heard Lieutenant Armstrong's footsteps heading toward her and she ducked quickly into the closet to avoid detection. Once safely inside, she rested wearily against the door, replaying all she had heard, over and over in her head. Her memories of that time came flooding back and she sank to the floor, hugging her knees tightly to keep her composure.

A few seconds later, Sophie heard her father's footsteps, signaling his exit from the warehouse as well. The stunning confrontation was, at last, over.

Alone in the darkness, Sophie's tears finally, and quietly, fell�.

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Re: Say the Words - ch.40 -- dqfan, 07:57:55 03/26/03 Wed