Zuzu's Petals: Part 2 (2/11)
by PR Chung
The front yard
was lit up like-- well it was lit up like a Christmas tree, Scully amusedly
thought and grinned broadly as she got out the car and took in the hundreds of
white lights wrapped around every tree and over every shrub in front of her
mother's house.
"Did you
know about all this?" Bill asked his sister, going around the back of the
jeep.
"Oh, God,
no," Scully chuckled, "when did she get all this done? It's never
been like this before."
Bill laughed
and shook his head, opening up the car hatch to get the presents out.
"She's going to divert planes from Dulles," he joked and held a box
out to Scully.
"It's not
that bad."
"Didn't
say it was bad," Bill countered good naturedly, hesitating over one of the
presents. "Looks like some of your bows are coming off here, Dana."
She checked
the reported damage as he handed the box to her. "Nothing too serious,
I'll fix it inside."
"Dana!"
Not half in
the door and Scully stopped, seeing Maggie making her way through the press of
guests congregated in the narrow hallway, with a smile that was eager and alive
with warmth and delight. "Oh Dana, you look so pretty."
Scully gave
her mother a speculative glance, grinning in spite of her embarrassment.
"I'm not wearing a graduation dress or anything," she laughed and
looked down at the simple sweater and slacks she'd hurriedly thrown on once
she'd run out time doing her hair and makeup.
"I'd
think you were beautiful in a potato sack," Maggie insisted, and hugged her
daughter tightly.
"Been
hitting the eggnog a little early, Mom?" Bill teased, grinning a grin that
always came off as a sneer.
Maggie looked up
at her towering son, and lazily swatted at his arm. "That's no way to talk
to me," she warned him half seriously, then grinned wryly, "even if
it is true."
"Mom,"
Scully chided in a gasp, delightfully surprised by her mother's mischief.
While her
mother and Bill took gifts into the living room, Scully lingered in the hall to
take her coat off and basked in the sights and sounds, and the wonderful smells
surrounding her. There was music coming from the living and the sound of
conversations all around her, and rich, happy laughter. The house was brimming
with old friends and fresh faces, everyone enjoying themselves. A gorgeous and
inviting buffet had been set up in the dining room and an impromptu bar had
come together in the kitchen where Scully could see that her brother Charlie
was happily playing bartender. Everything was warm and bright, and smelled of tasty
food and the nostalgic scent of the Christmas tree that was positioned before
the large front window.
Scully watched
Bill and her mother arranging gifts under the tree and felt something tug at
her insides; it was the guilt of forgetting the gifts for Bill's family. She
hoped they wouldn't read tags, at least until Skinner showed up-- And just when
was he showing up, she wondered anxiously, edging her eyes toward the front
door.
~~~~~~~~~~~ @ ~~~~~~~~~~~
Finding the
house hadn't been difficult, Margaret Scully's front yard was a blaze with
enough lights to put a strain on the hardiest of power stations-- missing the
address would have been an effort-- but finding a place to park had been
Skinner's real dilemma.
The street was
packed, and every driveway was crowded with no less than four cars; nearly
every house on this block had to be having a party. And here he was cruising
around with gifts in tow and no parking spaces, like a department store Santa
late for work at the mall on Christmas Eve.
Skinner
adjusted the brim of his ball cap in frustration as he turned off the block for
the second time. Why in the hell was he bothering, he wondered. Double-park,
run the damn bag up to the door, sit it on the porch, knock and leave; simple
as that.
No, not as
simple as that.
Skinner exhaled and propped his arm on the car door. He could be a hard ass,
but he didn't need to be a rude ass to boot.
Park and call
her-- Call her and drive by, maybe she could just come out to the car--
Skinner gritted his teeth, feeling like a jackass. If dumping the bag on the
porch and hauling ass like a coward wasn’t rude enough, then making her run out
to the street was even worse.
Before he
could make himself feel anymore confounded or lousy about himself, Skinner
spied an open parking space. Slowing the car, he ran his tongue against the
inside of his bottom teeth while he glared at the parking space, deliberating
what he should do; park or drive by? Headlights suddenly swinging into his
rearview mirror was incentive enough-- Skinner took the space.
Managing a
quick and sloppy parallel parking job, Skinner shut off the motor and watched
the other car pass before he called Scully's cell phone. It rang longer than usual,
and he was ready to hang up when she answered.
"It's
me," he announced, his voice tinged with displeasure for the fact,
"I'm down the block from the house. You want to meet me out front?"
Scully didn't
say anything for a second, then answered in a whisper, "Sure, I'll be
outside waiting."
Skinner ended
the call and got out, feeling satisfied with Scully's apparent empathy; he
wasn't thrilled about doing this and she was trying to make it as painless as
possible. But was it her concern for him, or for herself? Judging by the hush
of her voice on the phone, Skinner considered that Scully could be trying to
save herself embarrassment by keeping this gift drop a secret, forgetting the
gifts of a loved one and their family in the boss' car doesn't exactly ring of thoughtfulness.
Then there was
the fact of where she forgot the gifts. Scully's family might start asking
questions; curious why she was taking rides with the boss and warning her about
those inherently risky office romances.
Skinner shook
his head as if to help get rid of the thought. It wasn't like he was handing
her a bag of panties she'd left in the back seat, just a bag o'gifts. He
glanced dismally at the bag in his hand, "definitely not panties."
Just as she
said, Skinner found Scully standing outside her mother's house-- shivering on
the front steps. Approaching the porch, he could hear the sounds of a party
fully underway from inside and saw through the big picture window the telltale
signs of people merrily meandering around inside.
"Where's
your coat?" He asked her first thing, then hesitated as she came into full
view before him. He was surprised, and suddenly felt like a bum compared to
her. She wasn't wearing anything outlandish or extravagant, simple white
sweater and dark slacks, but up close now he discovered Scully was wearing a
good deal more makeup than he was used to seeing on her, and her hair... well,
it was all poofed up.
She looked
gorgeous.
"I didn't
want to advertise what I was doing," she answered.
"And
standing out here to meet me isn't advertising?"
Scully threw a
brief glance over her shoulder at the house and shrugged, turning back. "I
don't think anyone has missed me yet," she said and made a zuzzing sound
as she shivered. "Where did you park?"
"End of
the block. Everyone on this street must be having a party tonight," he
criticized, glancing toward the street.
Scully
followed his gaze, then looked at him, saying "you know I would have come
down to the street if you just wanted to stop out front. You didn't have to go
to the trouble of parking."
Skinner
tightened his mouth, inwardly kicking himself. "No need for you to be
running down to the street, making this look like a drug drop."
Scully lifted
her brows in half-baked amusement. "What a wonderful holiday sentiment,
sir," she mocked a compliment and reached for the bag. "Thanks for
doing this for me."
Before Scully
could take it, and before Skinner could relinquish the bag, the front door came
open. Maggie Scully struck her head out, her eyes darting over the two of them
for a concerned and confused instant. "Dana, what are you doing out here?"
she asked.
"I have
to go," Skinner abruptly said and started to turn.
"Mr.
Skinner?" Maggie called him, then, "Walter?"
Reluctance
weighed his movements as he turned slowly back and offered a thin smile to the
woman. "Yes," he answered. “Hello, Mrs. Scully.”
"How have
you been? Dana, didn't mention that you were coming," Maggie chattered
with warmth and delighted surprise saturating her voice. "I'm so pleased
to see you could make it."
Skinner and
Scully exchanged painful glances. He started to speak, but Scully got the first
word in, "Mom, he was just leaving," she explained.
Maggie's
peaceful expression sank into a frown. "I don't understand."
"I just
stopped by to say hello, Mrs. Scully," Skinner noticed Scully's quick
contrivance.
"Well,
standing out here in the cold to say hello is senseless," she said, disapproving
of the scene. "Come inside and have something to eat-- have a drink."
"I
can't," Skinner begged off.
"You
must," Maggie insisted.
"Mom,"
Scully scolded her mother gently.
"Really,"
Skinner shook his head again, pocketing his hands in his jacket. "I'm not
dressed for this. I should go--"
"You look
fine to me, Walter," Maggie assured him confidently and hooked her arm
with his, "Come on, before both of you catch pneumonia out here." She
urged him to walk with her, with first a gentle tug and then a more forceful
pull.
Looking at
Scully for support-- and finding only an apologetic grimace, Skinner finally
yielded to her mother's demands.
Entering the
house on Maggie Scully's arm, Skinner was greeted with a warmth that was almost
too much after being in the chilled night air. He was suddenly eager to remove
his parka in spite of his plan to excuse himself quickly, but before he could
make a move either way people began to welcome him and introduce themselves. Everyone
seemed to want to be acquainted with the man at Maggie's side; any friend of
hers was obviously a friend of theirs.
Then, as
Skinner was finally removing his parka and hat, Bill Scully ambled down the
hall. The oldest Scully offspring eyed the man skeptically at first, then with
a flicker of recognition moved in closer. "You're Dana's boss?" he
asked.
Skinner seemed
leery and Bill broke a broad grin and extended his hand. "Bill Scully,
Jr.," he said, as if to jog Skinner's memory. "We met a while
back."
Skinner
remembered, but neither of the men seemed willing to mention the circumstances
under which they had first met. Even though Scully's cancer had gone into full
remission-- a miraculous thing in itself, and great cause for celebration,
bringing up that challenging time for the family didn't seem proper.
"Walter
Skinner," he reintroduced himself, shaking Bill's hand.
Scully looked
on, pleasantly surprised by the apparent rapport her brother and Skinner had
with one another; it was almost stunning in contrast to that which existed
between Bill and Mulder-- or rather, she corrected the thought, didn't exist.
As Scully
watched Skinner being drawn deeper into the midst of the party, she started
feeling less guilty about him being drawn into a situation he didn't want to be
in, and started to feel more like maybe this was something he needed.
~~~~~~~~~~~ @ ~~~~~~~~~~~
Comments welcome at prchung18@gmail.com
