From: leighchristine@hotmail.com   
      
   TITLE: On the Porch   
   AUTHOR: Christine Leigh   
   E-MAIL: leighchristine@hotmail.com   
   SPOILERS: None.   
   RATING: G   
   CATEGORY: V   
   SUMMARY: POV vignette.   
      
   DISCLAIMER: All characters are the products of   
   Chris Carter. They also belong to Ten-Thirteen   
   Productions and the Fox Network. No copyright   
   infringement intended.   
      
      
      
   On the Porch   
   By Christine Leigh   
      
   The little ball bounced higher and there was   
   escalating tension in the air.  Not to be outdone,   
   the man caught it just in time.  Now he and his   
   opponent both relaxed. She could see this.  The   
   boy emulated the man, and they were two of a kind   
   now, sitting there cross-legged on the porch.   
   From her spot beneath the elm she took it all in.   
      
   This was the second time she'd watched them play   
   jacks.  The boy, who was six years old, and his   
   dad had been doing this the most recent time she'd   
   watched them, and it had taken her by surprise that   
   a child in this day and age could be entertained   
   by something so old-fashioned as jacks, but these   
   two were definitely having fun in between their   
   bouts of intense concentration.  It had been so   
   long ago that she'd first seen that expression on   
   the man's face, and the memory of those times   
   tugged at her.  She often left determined never to   
   come back.  So far, however, that had not occurred.   
      
   That he was a wonderful, loving father had been   
   evident 30 seconds into her first visit, whereupon   
   she'd watched him flip a pancake like a pro.  It   
   had been a Sunday morning, and to watch him maneuvering   
   in the kitchen had seemed like a scene out of an   
   urban fairytale, what with father and son happy, and   
   enjoying preparing a traditional weekend breakfast   
   while waiting for mom to awaken.  Indeed, from her   
   viewpoint, it was almost surreal.  Initially it had   
   been somewhat overwhelming for her, so she'd closed   
   her eyes and just taken in the scents so long absent   
   -- butter, maple syrup, coffee, cocoa, and something   
   else.  She wasn't sure what it was, but it was good.   
   No balm ever was better.   
      
   He was handsome, too.  Not that this had ever escaped   
   her notice before, but she'd been so preoccupied with   
   an unkind life, that she'd never seen him in full as   
   she did now.  He was a beautiful man on so many counts.   
   Certainly the physical, but he had such a heart.  That   
   was a true miracle in her eyes.  Against the odds, he   
   had prevailed, and she only wished that she could take   
   more credit for that.  Her contributions were too few   
   in the overall scheme of his life.   
      
   Now there was laughter.  They were finished with the   
   jacks, and the boy, William, got up and ran inside.   
   She had never considered the possibility of a grandchild,   
   but had come to love this little boy whom she could not   
   hold.  He was so like his father had been at the same   
   age, and she wanted to tell them both that.   
      
   She watched Fox move to the hammock and then stretch   
   out, warm and lazy in the afternoon shade.  He was   
   heading for a nap, she was fairly certain.  She waited,   
   and when he had closed his eyes, she would step up.   
   She didn't always, but some of the time she couldn't   
   resist.  Maybe it meant nothing to him, and maybe he   
   had no conscious recollection of her being there.  These   
   were things she'd never know, but something propelled   
   her to continue doing this.   
      
   After a few minutes his breathing was even.  Then she   
   moved to the porch and bent close to Fox's ear, noticing   
   once again that it was her father's.  That and the nose,   
   he'd gotten.   
      
   Softly, she whispered.   
      
      
   -  end  -   
      
      
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