Rating: PG

Summary: Down to Atlantic Beach...the scenery and setting is totally Martha's. I hope I can do them justice.

Spoilers: Nah.
 

MELVIN'S BRAIN GOES SEASIDE

I never imagined I'd be sitting on the porch of this house with my son.

He's grabbed the other rocker, and he's utterly entranced by the waves splashing back and forth against the sand. The breeze ruffles his hair and the sun lights the planes of his face, which are the same as my own-younger, but the bone structure is nearly identical. His eyes are hidden behind sunglasses, but I'm guessing they're smiling, because there's a sweetness in the expression playing on his lips.

He is, in so many ways, a very sweet man-child.

He's strangely quiet right now. Usually when Michael is excited, he's bubbling like a waterfall. Everything about him is distinctly unsubtle.

Including his intentions regarding the young lady in his life.

My admonitions to behave himself to the contrary, I know that he will not heed me in this. Not because he is being willful or disobedient, which, by the way, he's still somewhat inclined towards.

No, this is as inevitable as the water smacking the sand out in front of us. It will happen, and I believe that it will happen here.

This is where Dee and I came together, in every sense, far beyond the physical act of simply coupling, although certainly that occurred as well. I cherish that memory of our first lovemaking here in this house. I can remember every sensation as though it happened an hour ago. Just thinking about it makes my skin become electric.

It was as if my heart had been sealed for all eternity here in my love for her. She may be long gone, but our love is very much alive here, like a ghost that Mulder believes inhabits places such as this. The walls reverberate with it.

You might ask, why did I bring Jo?

The answer is very simple. Jo is my friend. We have loved and we prefer those loves to remain alive, even as the ones we loved have passed on. Neither of us will disturb our friendship for a momentary lapse of passion. We don't want it. It's not that we're too old for such things-I don't believe anyone ever is-nor that we are averse to sexuality in general. Quite the contrary. Our respect for those parts of our lives will not be compromised.

Jo is wonderful company. We don't have to struggle with one another. And she loves the ocean.

She knows about this house. Not in gory detail-she wouldn't appreciate it, and I wouldn't say it-but she knows it. There's no way I could not tell her.

We both ended up speaking at length about the loves of our lives. Dee being mine, hers being the surgeon-fiancee she lost in country. She has not remarried not out of some misguided loyalty to him, but because she says there has never been anything to compare to how she felt about him, and she, too, prefers to let the past remain where it is, instead of trying to drag, kicking and screaming, those sensations into the present.

I feel the ghosts here, and I know my son does, too. I saw his face when he took Kelly's things into her room.

I lied when I said Michael was distinctly unsubtle. He is, true. But in that moment, when just the tiniest of shadows passed over him, I knew what had happened.

And I think Kelly knows, too. And she's ready for him. It's in her face and her gestures towards him.

This trip will seal it for them.

I want for them to be happy. Things get so complicated. I've learned too late that you can't permit circumstance to rule your heart, a crime to which I plead guilty in the first.

And their lives will be complicated. Even if the only thing that transpires was to be Kelly's education, that in itself would be difficult enough.

And it's not likely that that will be their only complication. I don't know what will happen, but I have the sense that life will never be simple for them. It hasn't been simple yet, and things only increase in complexity.

But I've begun to have a little more faith in my son. He's lost some of his youthful surliness. He's showing more patience, better judgment. And much more tenderness. He's unafraid to express himself, something I never permitted myself the luxury of doing.

I learned too late that it wasn't a luxury.

If it sounds as if I am ready for my son to plunge into the world of the conjugal, rest assured I am not. I still believe they should give it time. Plenty of time. And as old-fashioned as it sounds, and perhaps a tad hypocritical, I would prefer to see them have a legalized union before they consummate this relationship.

I may be an old fool, but I'm not enough of a fool to believe that that is even a remote possibility. They're young and their hormones rage like the ocean in front of me during a windstorm.

I was this young once, and I was the same way. Jan and I may have waited until the wedding night for the final consummation, but we did everything but until then.

It's been strange seeing Jan again. How do you have any sort of relationship with someone with whom you once shared the most intimate one, and are now strangers with? Our only connection is our kids, with whom we are both desperately trying to reconnect and reconcile with.

We spent a long time talking about the past while Michael was recovering. And it was surprisingly good. Almost as if perhaps for the both of us, there will be some closure to this whole mess, someday. It's the best we could hope for.

That, and to be close to our kids again.

I've become very close to my son. He does not confide in me everything-Byers and Langly are closer to his age, and they are much more appropriate confidantes. And I think he does confide in them. In recent months, he's begun to relate to them in a fashion that is significantly more adult-well, all right, as adult as any of them can be at times. Which sometimes is not very much.

It will be so difficult for them to make this work, and if it doesn't, my son's heart will shatter like glass, unable to be patched together again.

And I will have to be there should this happen. I just pray it doesn't. My ulcer gets enough aggravation these days from working.

But Michael is the joy of my life, too, as well as my ultimate aggravation. I love him so very much. I don't want to see anything happen to him that will cause him pain and grief.

A useless wish. He's already seen pain and grief. Nothing I can do will protect him from that.

The ghosts that Dee and I left in this house have now invaded his soul, and I am powerless to keep them from stirring in him.

He looks over and smiles at me. He's got my smile. I see so much of myself reflected in him, and Jan as well. He would balk at this, but he has a great deal of his mother lurking inside of him, and it pops out in the most unexpected places.

We probably shouldn't leave these kids alone for a moment.

It wouldn't matter. They'd find a way.

Dee, if we can leave one legacy to these kids, let them learn from where we went wrong...how our priorities were wrong, how we misinterpreted each other for so long.

In short, don't let them make the same stupid mistakes we made.

My son looks so happy right now. He's peaceful and calm. I rarely see him in this state. I would have not believed a year ago that he was capable of this.

I'd capture him in this moment and let him stay there were it humanly possible for me to do so.

I remember when he was three and we were at the Jersey shore-he doesn't remember the vacation, but I do. I remember carrying him on my back and listening to him babble on about everything around him, the shells and the sand and the cold water, and listening to him laugh and then setting him down, watching him chase the dogs on the beach and jumping into the water, yelling for me to come with him. It was such a happy week, that week with Jan and Les and Michael, just playing in the sand and the water, watching our kids be happy little kids.

It should have been that way. If only you could crystallize the moments you choose, and make them last forever.

I couldn't carry him on my back now if my life depended on it, and he's not speaking right now, but I still see glimpses of my little boy on a summer's day. As was then, he soaks in every sensation. Michael is the sort of person, you ask him what he ate for breakfast, he'll detail the entire menu, and then tell you how it tasted.

I hope that part of him never changes.

I did sense a grudging acceptance of his mother's presence this time around. He was not as comfortable with her as both would have liked, but he was courteous to her.

And Jan adores Kelly.

Well, there's more than a little bit of Jan inside Kelly. Michael would be appalled if I mentioned this, but I see some strong similarities between the two.

I hope this will help him bridge the gap between him and his mother, which is still painfully wide and rocky.

Last time I was here, I came with Byers and Langly...and they were so much younger then, in all senses of the word. I was younger, too, but I've never felt young. I think I was born an old soul. Some of us just are. Allison's daughter is an old soul. Dana Scully is one. Byers is definitely one, although more and more, I see hints of mischieviousness sneaking out, enjoying life with a more childlike bent. I get the feeling Jo may be an old soul.

We have youthful souls around us as well. Langly is a quintessential pixie, as is his wife. Mulder sometimes seems to be an old soul, but the fact is, he's got the touching innocence of a child.

I worry about the first two quintessential pixies. They're embarking on an expedition which, to say the least, is going to be emotionally hazardous, and isn't without physical risk.

When they first said they were going to attempt to have a child, I was delighted.

But my delight has given way to worry. Langly is betting far too hard on a technology that, at best, produces limited results. And I sense a great deal of apprehension on Allison's part. I think she wants this child more to please him than for anything for herself. She doesn't seem to be able to acknowledge this right now. Should the technology work miracles for them, she won't have to, because she won't have any choice. But if it doesn't...they're both going to have to be a lot more honest with each other than I think they've been so far.

I know this because of what Dee and I went through. If we'd honestly talked after her miscarriage, things might have been very different.

I hope that Michael and Kelly are cultivating the habit now. Because it's not an option.

As I learned too late.
 

MICHAEL:

Dad looks like he's asleep, but maybe he's just thinking.

I wonder if he's thinking about Dee. He looks like he's in a faraway place where nobody could reach him.

Dad isn't much of a talker, so it's sort of a mystery what goes on with him when he's like this, but I'm guessing Dee is there with him.

It's got to be torture to be here for him, but he wanted to come.

And he doesn't look sad, really.

I feel bad because I give him so much shit sometimes. I still feel bad about slugging him that one night. He's never brought it up, which surprises the hell out of me, but he doesn't.

Maybe he felt like he deserved it. Who knows. I shouldn't have done it, whatever.

But he's like been good to me, and he did let Kelly come along. I sort of got the feeling he wasn't nuts about the idea, but maybe Jo felt like she needed somebody to do girl things with, and she talked my dad into it.

I have allies in the weirdest places.

I used to not even really think about Jo-it's like, she was just there. But getting to know her more, she's a very cool lady.

And it's funny. Sometimes at TMB, when my dad starts getting on me about stuff, Langly and the prof will actually tell him to lighten up, lay off. I notice the prof speaks up more these days about things. He's still like a total diplomat, swear butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, but he does say more and he's a lot more opinionated than I thought in the beginning.

And the prof and Langly were both real good to me when I got sick both times. Okay, Langly was kind of a bastard about it, but I think I understand where he's coming from now. The prof, he was just like, he didn't want me to wake up alone, he said that was the worst part when he had the same thing happen. And he let me sleep, and he was just so THERE.

Everybody's been like so there for me these days. I don't get it. I mean, I'm still the same little jerk I was when I got there, and everybody treated me like it. Maybe they're just getting used to me.

Or maybe I'm not the same little jerk. Hard for me to tell, since I live in the same body I've always been in. It's hard to see close up.

Sometimes my dad is so close up, I don't see all the things he's about.

He's been through hell. And he's still the kindest human being, underneath it all, in the whole world. Dad cares about people, a lot. I get the sense he's done a lot of stuff for people he'll never even talk about, because he just doesn't. Langly and the prof tell me that after 'Nam, when the 'Net came up, he spent a lot of time putting people together who got separated in the war.

Maybe that's how he gets his meaning, helping other people. He might not be able to put it all together for himself, but he does it for someone else, it makes sense for him.

That takes a lot of something I never thought about, and that's humility. And he's got it, I realize, in spades.

He's a deep dude. Nobody can fathom him all the way, not ever. Not even himself. Certainly not me.

I wish he'd talk about some of the things he went through. Like prison. Or 'Nam. Or even his fucking divorce from my mother. I'd feel like I knew him better if he did.

But it's real hard for him to do that. At least he told me about Dee.

Dee sounds like she was a nice lady. I probably would've thought she was okay.

It's funny, in this house, it's so cool, but it's almost like there're ghosts here. Not in a bad way. It's like there's something that lives in the walls here. It's real palpable. (Gimme a point, Casey). When I look at Kelly, I can feel it.

And speaking of Kelly, she and Jo are back.

She better be ready to model her new swimsuit.
 

"I can't believe how fat I've gotten." She comes out, and she's got one of my big old flannel shirts over her new suit.

"You're not fat. You look like..."

"Like what?" She looks at me suspiciously.

"Like a woman."

She blushes.

"C'mon, race you down to the beach." I'm ready for a dip in the water, hope she's not one of those girls that won't get her hair wet.

I'm a real good swimmer, it's one sport I was always good at, that and soccer. So I'm sort of annoyed when she won't go out very far.

I ask her what's wrong, and she blushes, says she doesn't know how to swim.

I'm a little surprised-I think I figure everybody can swim. For me, it was like so natural to do it. But I guess she never had much chance to learn.

So I'll show her how.

First, though, she's got to lose the shirt, which she hasn't yet.

She blushes real hard. "Oh, God, I don't know how I let Jo talk me into this suit-" she finally starts peeling off my shirt and walks it back to the sand.

I know.

God, she is positively awesome!

I need to get out into water that's at least waist-high...for obvious reasons.

And plus, if she's gonna learn how to swim...well, can't do that at the edge of the sand.

She's a little nervous, so I take her hand, I tell her, it's okay, I won't let anything happen to her. I point out what the visible riptides look like, so she can stay away from them, and I tell her, you get caught in one, don't fight it, just swim parallel to the shore and you'll be okay. This doesn't make her feel very calm, but she needs to know it.

I'll let her know about jellyfish later. I got stung by one one time when I was at the beach on the weekend with my mom and dad and sister...I'd forgotten about that.

She can float, it's not like she can't do that. She's nervous about doing it in the ocean, and yeah, the ocean's pretty fucking imposing looking, I'll give that. But she's not gonna drown. I won't let her. And yeah, without too much macho bragging, I could rescue her if I needed to.

She finally gets relaxed enough that I let her go for a moment, and she sort of freaks out, but we try it again...and again...and pretty soon she's got it. One thing you gotta say for Kelly...she won't give up till she gets it.

I like that about her.

The water's kind of cold, but you get warmed up pretty fast if you keep moving in it...and we do. I show her how to do the basic strokes, and she's not too great at it yet, but she keeps at it. She's damn dogged about learning to do anything, whether it's chemistry or swimming.

We keep this up for I have no idea how long, but we finally start to get cold, and my side starts to hurt a little. I don't think this is exactly what Bergman had in mind when he said I could resume normal activity. Plus the sun's getting lower, and the air's gonna get real nippy, I bet.

We're shivering when we get out, but we wrap ourselves together in one of the beach towels we found at the house, and I've got no complaints about the temperature in there.
 

MELVIN'S BRAIN TWISTING IN THE WIND:

I've been watching the kids in the water for over an hour and a half. They must be freezing. It appears that Kelly is less than a competent swimmer, but fortunately, Michael is very skilled, and he's been attempting to pass that skill to her. I've heard a lot of laughing and shrieking since they've gone out there.

And she seems to be paying attention, and she's certainly not inclined to quit something, that much is obvious.

My primary concern at the moment is that my son will get chilled, fall ill, and I'll be dealing with that again. He doesn't need it, and I sure as hell don't.

They're finally coming up the beach, they're wrapped in a single towel, and I can hear them laughing. When they reach the porch, their lips are blue and the one hand I can see sticking out-it's Kelly's-is totally pruned from the water.

I tell them to hurry up, get dressed, and we'll go to dinner. And I remind them to dress warmly-it gets brisk here at night, and I'd like my son to stay healthy, thank you very much.

Michael makes a face, but he knows he's had a rough winter. And I think he's begun to get the idea that it's been hard for me.

Not that I wouldn't do it a million times over. He knows I would. I know I would.

But why make it harder than it already is?
 

MICHAEL:

I had only used the upstairs bathroom, and it's pretty standard issue, got a shower in it...but downstairs here, this one has one of those massive big old bathtubs with clawed feet on it.

I'm freezing...and checking out the tub, well...maybe after we go swimming tomorrow, I might suggest we fill it with hot water and get warmed up together...

She feels so nice when she's wet...and I've only felt her in cold water, not warm. And even though the swimsuit left plenty of exposed skin and she looked so damn sexy I was having trouble staying socially acceptable, the idea of her naked in a tub of warm water with me...

Oh God. You're going to dinner, Frohike. Calm down.

It's a lot cooler when we get outside. Okay, I'm glad I listened to Dad and brought something other than shorts. Just don't tell him that.

Kelly's hair is still wet, she's got it up in one of those clips, and she's wearing this fluffy blue and white sweater and a pair of jeans that positively hug her luscious ass. She looks a little tired, but she's wearing a huge smile.

"Ready to do it again tomorrow?" She asks.

I'm ready for a lot of things, Kelly...

Dad and Jo went in to get ready, so we're alone on the stairs to the porch. It's nice just to sit there with her.

I kiss her, and I feel a lot warmer already.

"Michael...I have something to tell you."

Oh, fuck...no...not right now... not here...I can feel panic totally clutching at me...

"I went on the pill a month ago."

Hello?

"You did what?"

"I went on the pill a month ago."

"You mean, as in birth control pills?"

"Uh-huh."

The implications of this are like, wow...my head is spinning.

She does want to do it. She even prepared for it.

That's my girl.

But now...oh God, how are we gonna do this with the world's most overprotective father in our midst?

This is going to require some heavy strategic planning on my part.

I have got to get them out of the house.
 

I'm not a big seafood fan, but eating in a place like this, it could change my mind forever. They've got these soups to die for. I went for broke and ordered the lobster bisque-hell, I had to ask Dad and Jo what a bisque was, but I'm glad I did. This stuff is so awesome. Filling as hell, too.

Kelly's never had real fish, ocean fish, and she didn't know what to get, but she went with the clam chowder, the New England style stuff with cream in it, and she likes it a lot. Says they would have clam chowder at her mom's diner on Fridays but it didn't taste like this, and this is a whole lot better.

Dad and Jo went with the oyster stew, and they got clams on the half-shell for appetizers. I tried one-don't think I like my fish cold, thank you very much. But everything else, like they've got these loaves of rye bread that are like they just came out of the oven, lots of sweet butter, fantastic. Dad and Jo each are having a beer, Kelly and me went for sweetened iced tea, and it's like real tea, not the powdered stuff.

And they don't talk about the hard stuff, the stuff about work, the stuff about the political situation, which gets uglier every day, about the issues. They talk about the NCAA championships (lots of disappointment that fucking Florida State won-we all hate Florida State), and they talk about going and seeing some of the sights around town tomorrow. Dad knows them but Jo's never been and she wants to see them.

"Are you two interested?" Jo asks us.

It's not that I wouldn't be interested...I just happen to be more interested in other things at this time.

And it might be our only shot at getting them out of our hair for a while.

"I think we're gonna hang, do some more swimming," I tell her.

Do I get the feeling Kelly just breathed a big sigh of relief? I mean, it wasn't loud, but I noticed after I said it, her left hand reaches out for my knee under the table.

Little minx.

Maybe after they go to bed, Kelly and me...well, we have to be careful, but maybe we can do a little exploring in preparation for the coming expedition.
 

We're all tired when we get back. We drove a long way, got some rays, played in the water, Kelly and me did, and now we're all stuffed to the gills. And it's the kind of food that makes you sleepy.

But not totally sleepy. Well, not me, anyway.

We're in the living room-it's kind of like this great room in the place, you can sleep a lot of people here if you need to, and just kicking back, watching some tube. Nick at Nite. Dad loves Bewitched. I think he must've had a crush on Elizabeth Montgomery, who is quite the fox in the show.
Jo starts nodding, she says she's turning in.

By the time Mary Tyler Moore comes on Nick at Nite, Dad's snoring away in the chair. This is the only problem with sharing the same room with him. Well, not the only one, but definitely, if you heard it...

And I look down, and there's a sleepy face leaned against my shoulder.

She's exhausted.

Okay, tonight, I'll send her to bed.

I walk her up the stairs, and I promise myself not to take advantage of her.

Tonight, that is.

END OF PART 79