From: Margaret Newman Okay, here's another attempt at a "Forever Not". Comments and questions are welcome. Flames can be sent to me, too. Don't want to upset the Editor too much.... ;-) ******************************************************************************** Fatherhood A Forever Not/Forever Knight Story by Margaret Newman Early morning "You WILL NOT continue on with this foolishness!" Fleur woke up to the sound of her father's yell. It was like this alot now. Her brother would sneak home in the pre-dawn light only to be confronted by their father, waiting. Waiting. Fleur reached over and turned on the lamp by her bed, then sat up. She rubbed her eyes, and checked the alarm clock. 4:35am. Goodness, Michael was home early! A sad smile twisted her young lips. She shoved back the covers, crawling out of bed. "It's not foolish, and I'm not stopping! Music is my life!" Michael bellowed back as Fleur eased open her bedroom door. "We made good money tonight, and there was an agent in the audience. This could be our break." "Do you know how many times you've said that?! 'This time is it!' You said that last week! There is no future playing lead guitar in some damn band!" Her father was furious. She knew his face would be red, his eyes glittering. Sometimes when he was angry, he could be really scary. "Fleur!" Her mother hissed softly, hurrying down the hall towards the stairs. "Shut your door! I'll come talk to you after this-" Fleur shut her door, leaning her back against it. She wondered what would happen if someone didn't talk sense into both her brother and her father. Her mother tried, she knew that, but it was tough. She was caught between love for her son and love for her husband. They both wanted Michael to go to college, but Fleur didn't think he had it in him. He was too restless. With a sigh, she flopped onto her bed. She laced her fingers together, her head on top, and she stared up at her ceiling. She had posters stapled to her ceiling. One of clouds, one of dolphins, one of an ancient, crumbling castle, and one of the constellations. Idly, she wondered what her father had been like as a young man. Had he been restless? Had college been last on his list of things to do upon turning 18? "I'm not discussing it!" Michael shouted, thundering past Fleur's bedroom door. She heard him enter his own room, slamming his own door. One, two, three.... The stereo came on, some weird group came on (they all looked so anemic and sickly) singing a tragic song full of lost love and parents that didn't understand them. Were their parents like theirs? "Natalie!" Her father's voice came from the stairs. "We can't let him go on like this! It's madness!" "Nick! Please, calm down. Yelling at him isn't going to accomplish anything." She could hear her mother as easily, and felt the tears gather in her throat. Why couldn't it be like it used to? When she and Michael were younger, and Daddy was happier? Momma had been happier then, too. "What will, Nat? Can you answer me that? You are always telling me to take it easy, calm down. What good does it do? He's going to miss the college entrance exams. He's going to screw up his future! You always seem to have all the answers. What's this one?" "Don't!" Fleur threw open her bedroom door, and said the single word in a very cool, harsh voice. Where the anger and determination came from, she didn't know. Her parents looked at her in surprise. "Don't you dare attack her with your frustration. Can't you see what this is doing to her? To all of us. Maybe music isn't Michael's answer, but maybe college isn't either." "Baby, I- " Her father, stricken, stepped towards her. "You were young once, Daddy. Did you make all the right choices the first time?" Tears streamed down her face as they also did down her mother's. "Did you always do what your father wanted?" "Fleur, please." Natalie choked. "Go back to bed. I'll bring you a glass-" "Milk isn't going to make me feel better, Momma." Fleur said softly, glancing blurrily at her father before shutting her bedroom door. She fell into her bed, dragging the covers over her head, her shoulders shaking. She didn't her hear parents retreat to the master bedroom or the fact that Michael's stereo had gone silent. *** Mid-afternoon, same day Nick stood in the doorway, staring out at his backyard. The grass was newly mown, the sprinkler running. He hadn't gone back to bed after the argument with his son. He had quietly showered, shaved, and gone for a drive in his ancient Cadillac. When he had returned home, he had gotten out the mower, and started in. Natalie had brought him a glass of lemonade halfway through. They hadn't spoken then. They hadn't said a word to each other since he had shut their bathroom door. "Want me to move the sprinkler?" Fleur asked in a hushed tone of voice. She had quietly appeared at his side. When had she learned to move so soundlessly? "No, thanks, sweety." He smiled down at her. She was so lovely, even at fourteen when most young girls were gawky and self-conscious. "What I would like would be for us to sit down here on the porch, and talk." "Okay." She nodded, moving out onto the porch. "Swingchair or steps?" "Swingchair." He replied, waiting for her to sit first. "First, I want to apologize for this morning, and for all the nights and mornings that we've woke you up arguing. It's not going to happen again." "Oh, Daddy." Fleur's face flushed, her gaze ducking down to her lap. "No, I'm serious. Your words did make sense to me. I was young once. A long time ago. Some day, I may tell you the entire story. Or, at least some of it." He grinned, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe you should tell Michael?" She looked up at him then, hesitantly. "No, not yet." He shook his head, his grin slipping. "He has to find his own way, and I can't make the choices for him. I have to let him make his own mistakes no matter how much that hurts me. It's just that I love him so much, I want to protect him from the pain I endured." "That's a part of fatherhood, Nick." Natalie said from the doorway. "LaCroix could tell you that." "I'm sure he could." Nick chuckled. "And then some." LaCroix? Fleur frowned. Who was that? "You didn't go visit him?" She stepped out onto the porch. "No." Nick shook his head. Fleur glanced from her mother to her father's hard expression with such sad eyes. "LaCroix is a part of the story I'll tell you some day. But not now. I can see those little ears flapping." "Daddy." Fleur giggled. She sighed, and then ventured, "but what about Michael?" "Yeah, what about me." Michael said in a husky, slightly hostile voice. He was now in the doorway. "Michael is going to look into going to college part time while still playing with his band. It wouldn't hurt to have further musical training -if he wants to make a solid name for himself. Besides, a little business and management background wouldn't hurt him either. Protect his butt from the vultures." Nick replied. He looked down at Fleur and winked. "We are a family, and we are going to stay a family. Whether Mike goes to college or not." "Good." Fleur nodded. "Yes, I like that." Nat smiled, a hand touching Nick's shoulder. "You see, I don't always have all the answers." "Okay, okay. A compromise." Michael groaned with resignation. "So now that we are a happy family again, you taking us to dinner?" "Oh, yes!" Fleur squeaked, jumping up. "Can we go to a movie later, too? 'Hunt for the Vampires' started this week. You haven't seen it yet, have you, Mikey?" "No, Weed." He half smiled, shaking his head. "No vampire movies." Natalie spoke adamantly. "'Beloved Doctor' is still on my list." "Oh, no!" Three voices cried out in dismay. "Not another doctor movie!!" ***********