Good Man

A long December
And there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last



Rain drops were hitting the window panes like bullets as Caroline awoke in bed on the morning of Christmas Eve. It was a Monday and she found it ironic that every rainy day she could ever remember always seemed to land on a Monday. She was staring up at the ceiling while still remaining as cocooned as possible within the bed sheets and comforter while she listened to the rain and the silence in the house beside the outer noise.

She probably would've remained in bed for a good deal longer if it weren't for the small footsteps padding their way through the hallway outside her bedroom door and then stopping when the door handle turned and the door itself opened a crack.

"Mommy?"

"Come on in, sweetheart," Caroline replied groggily, knowing it was her young son.

The tot scampered inside with smiles in his eyes and on his lips as he reached the edge of his mother's bed and looked up at her. Turning to her side, she smiled back and leaned over to reach her hands out to the three-year-old.

"Wanna come up?" she asked. When he nodded, she hooked her hands under his arms and lifted him up onto the bed, laying him down beside her and pulling him close into a snuggle. Looking upon his small, beautiful face, she grazed his smooth skin and brushed some of his blonde hair out of his eyes. "So, are you excited about Santa Claus?"

"Yeah," Mikey nodded his head as he reached his hands out to play with his mommy's hair.

"Do you think you're gonna get lots of presents?"

"Yeah." Again, he nodded again. As he curled up closer to his mommy under large, goose down comforter, he tipped his chin and fiddled a bit. "Mommy, is daddy comin' home for Cwismas?"

Why couldn't he ask me an easy question, like, where babies came from?

"Uh..." Caroline stalled as she propped herself up with her elbow; the side of her face resting in the palm of her hand. "Mikey, you know your daddy went to heaven with God and his angels, so he's gonna be there from now on. He's...uh, that's where he has to spend Christmas."

"Does he wanna 'pend it t'ere?"

Caroline forced a smile and shook her head. "Well, it's a nice place where he is in heaven, but I know in my heart that no matter how nice it is, he would much rather be here with you and Chloe and mommy, watching you open your presents from Santa."

"Is daddy happy, mommy?"

Nodding, Caroline kissed her Mikey's forehead. "Yes, he's happy." Leaning back to look over his small face, the mother of two sat up and pulled her son up with her in a comforting embrace.

Possibly more for herself than for her boy.

"I love you, Michael," she whispered in his ear.

"I wuv you, too, mommy."

Her heart warming, Caroline stretched her legs out over the edge of the bed and slid off the mattress with Mikey in her arms until he squirmed to be let down.

As soon as his bare feet touched the carpet, he scampered off ahead of his mother and led the way out of the bedroom. "Can we wake up Chloe and have pancakes, mommy?"

Watching her child breezing through his young life so nonchalantly made her smile. "Yes, we can have pancakes. Christmas pancakes." As her son jumped for joy and clapped his hands, Caroline laughed out loud before turning right and opening up Chloe's bedroom door. Once she'd stepped inside, the little girl raised her head from where she was in her crib, laying on her stomach. "Hey, sleepy."

"Hi mama," the toddler called out quietly with eyes puffy from innocent slumber.

Approaching the crib, with Mikey circling her legs, Caroline leaned over and reached down to pick Chloe up. "Do you want some pancakes."

When the little girl simply nodded, Caroline pressed her lips to her daughter's cheek to kiss the bejesus out of them; munching her to bits some would call it.

"C'mon, you two. Let's go have some Christmas pancakes."



As Tre stretched out in his living room with his legs up on the coffee table in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles, and his wireless Xbox controller held firmly in his hands which rested in his lap, his now 40-year-old blue eyes focused on the big screen television that displayed the video game he was intently playing.

Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.

As his character of choice, CJ, was running over bystanders in a rainy night sequence while Billy Idol's 'White Wedding' played from the characters' 'car radio,' a blur of longish strawberry blonde hair flew across the screen which caught Tre off guard, causing him to crash CJ in a telephone pole.

Tre paused the game for a moment to get a better look at the blob of hair mixed with a shade of Kelly green that was crouched on the floor beside the television.

"How dare ye intrude on my game time, peasant!" Tre called out mock-angrily, and in a slightly Olde English accent which he pulled off quite well.

Turning her face up with a raised eyebrow of contempt and annoyance, Tre's soon-to-be eighteen-year-old daughter Ramona Wright stared back at her father. "You're showing your age, dad, when you revert to playing San Andreas. That game has been out for almost ten years. You do know that Rockstar North has developed more branches of Grand Theft Auto since then, right?" she questioned as if her were mildly stupid. "Like, for example, Grand Theft Auto: Londinium which is supposed to be based on and around London?"

"Yeah, well I prefer it old school, thankyaverymuch," the drummer replied. After looking back up at the paused game, Tre thought a moment and looked back down as his oldest child. "What're you doing?"

"Looking for my new Scissor Sisters CD. I was playing it in the sterero down here yesterday."

Tre set the controller down, dropped his legs down to the ground and leaned forward. "Is it the one with the sunflower in the corner and the big fork attacking it or whatever?"

Ramona nodded. "Yeah."

"You left it in the stereo and I took it out," Tre replied. "I put it on the kitchen counter near the phone."

"Oh."

Standing up, his daughter placed her hands in the pockets of her green drawstring pants and headed toward the kitchen. "You going somewhere?"

"I was gonna take the car and go to Care's for a while, if you don't mind. I haven't seen Mikey or Chloe since the summer," came her response, which wafted melodically into the living room. "I was also thinking of leaving New York and moving back here to California for school."

Tre's ears perked and he nodded with a smile. "You applied to colleges here?"

"No, that's not exactly what I meant," Ramona commented with a hint of hesitation. Reappearing into the archway of the room, she shifted her blue eyes from her father to the coffee table.

"Then what did you mean?"

"Well, for one, I haven't applied to any colleges because I'm not going," she answered and, before Tre could pick his jaw off of the floor or get another word in, she continued with, "Second of all, I meant finishing high school here, not there."

"But, Ramona, you only have six months left to go."

"Yeah, and I also hate it out there. I love it here and everyone I love is here."

"What about your mom?"

"She likes it there, not me."

"She's still your mom and has custody of you."

Ramona gave him a glare; one hand still shoved in her pocket, the other holding her Scissor Sisters CD. "Yeah, and I'll also be eighteen in less than a month. So, either you talk with mom about me moving back here to transfer so I can finish my senior year out here, or I'm dropping out of school and moving out here on my own." Ramona shrugged. "It's up to you."

Tre leaned back into the couch and brought his hand to his mouth, running down in thought. His mind was now reeling and he couldn't remember how it was he got to this point in his life where his baby girl was now almost an adult. "Are you sure you don't wanna go to college? I mean, you would make a great lawyer with the brass balls you got."



Later that evening, with Tre still reeling from the bomb Ramona dropped on him earlier in the day, he was actually quite placid when it came time to tag along as Giselle's guest to the hospital's Christmas party being held in the Gold Room of San Francisco's Palace Hotel. The night had nothing to do with him, who he was, or what was going on in his life. It was about Giselle's job as a doctor and how she was celebrating the holiday with her fellow doctors and their guests.

While admiring how his wife subconsciously placed her hand on the barely there puff of her stomach, he knew she was thinking about their unborn child and hoping that this pregnancy would pan out. After all, the longest any of her pregnancies last was just over three months and she was almost to that point, so Tre was quite aware she was nervous and hopeful at the same time.

He was, too.

It was on both of their minds lately, but for the sake of not letting it get them down or even get their hopes up, Tre chose to not think on it at the moment and instead occupy his mind with finding the h'ordourves table for some more of that tasty brie.

Giselle was the one who was mingling, since it was she who knew the people there, not Tre. He was only there for the snacks and liquor.

"Excuse me," came the bellowing voice of Dr. Calvin Howard; Chief of Surgery. "Could I have everyone's attention, please?"

Standing near the entrance of the Gold Room, awaiting all eyes to focus on him, Dr. Howard smiled appreciatively as he held onto his glass of red wine as intricately as if he were holding a scalpel in one of his countless career surgeries.

Giselle dissolved a conversation she was having with one of the ER residents and found her way back to her husband who was standing near the international cheeses platter. She gave him a small, loving smile then linked her arm through his before staring ahead at the surgical Chief.

"It's my honor to be the one to speak tonight about our hospital's greatest Christmas gift in the last couple of years." Turning his head to the left, he looked admiringly at the woman standing beside him.

Wearing a simple, black cocktail dress, the woman in question was remarkably lovely. Her look was ethereal, her pale green eyes somewhat squinty and her smile with of a hint of mischief without suggesting she was actually mischievous. She was of average height, quite thin with slender legs, and had straight, light brown hair that hung past her shoulders. Her make-up was expertly applied and simple, giving her that au natural appearance.

"Within the last week, Saint Francis Memorial Hospital was contacted by The Ellis Helmes Foundation with an impressive and quite unexpected donation. Our hospital received an amazing eleven million dollars to put toward new, state of the art equipment and to also be split between the psych and neonatal wards to go toward better patient care and treatment."

Giselle's stomach did a flip flop of excitement because a portion of this hefty donation was going toward her specialty. As she squeezed onto Tre's arm a bit tighter, she looked on as Dr. Howard nodded to the woman who seemed to be in her mid to late thirties.

Smiling demurely and nodding in return, acknowledging his gesture for her to say a few words, she scanned the large crowd of doctors, Saint Francis Memorial Foundation board members and guests. Parting her lips, she smiled with her eyes as well. "Hello, I'm Ellis Helmes and I'd first like to thank everyone for having me here," she began. "I grew up in the heart of Manhattan, raised by two, loving parents who offered me the world at my feet. I wanted for nothing. And when they passed on a few years ago, I felt, in my heart, it was time for me to give a little of myself to the world and the people in it..."

Giselle drowned this Ellis person out simply because she was thinking about all the possibilities this donation would offer the psych ward. Her mind was racing with the research that could be done, and the facilities' equipment being upgraded to better treat the patients. It was like a kid in a candy store, in her thoughts...that is, if this kid went to college for eight years and had seen what an actual human brain looked like.

"...Thank you," was all Giselle heard next, when she came back to reality and saw Ellis Helmes sinking back beside Dr. Howard, who signaled for everyone to return to having a good time.

"This is great," Giselle smiled, turning to face Tre. "The hospital could really use this right now..."

"I bet," Tre shrugged. "Too bad there wasn't anything going toward emergency medicine."

"Why do you say that?" the blue-eyed psychiatrist inquired, tilting her head to one side.

"Well, with better emergency medical care and services and whatever, don't you think more accidents resulting in death like Mike's could be prevented?" Tre stared off toward where Ellis Helmes had been standing and was now slinking through the crowd of people who wanted to speak with her. "I think that eleven million should be split evenly between all the departments. Y'know?"

"Well, then why don't you make a donation?" Giselle retorted impishly. "It's not like you don't have the means."

Eyeing his bride, Tre shrugged once more. "Who knows. Maybe I will."

As the corners of Giselle's lips tugged upward at the conviction in her husband's words that came from his heart, she was caught off guard by the gentle touch on her shoulder.

Turning to her left, she found herself face to face with Ellis Helmes, who was offering her hand and wearing an incredulous expression on her face.

"Hi...I'm Ellis Helmes," she introduced, then frowned lightly. "Of course I am, I just said that to everyone else not even five minutes ago." Biting her lip for a moment, she sighed and smiled anyhow.

"Hi," Giselle repeated. "I'm---"

"---Giselle Wright. Or, Dr. Wright, I should say," Ellis interrupted. "I know who you are."

"You do?"

"Yeah," the philanthropist nodded. "I've actually been looking for you, in particular."

Tre raised an eyebrow and looked between both women; his questioning gaze not going unnoticed.

"Oh, uh...Ms. Helmes---"

"---Call me Ellis," Ellis interrupted once more.

"Alright...Ellis, this is my husband Frank Wright III."

"I, uh...I knew that, too. Like I said, I've been looking for you. Anything about you, and I hope that doesn't make me seem like a crazy stalker, but I have a good reason, which I would really like to talk to you about, if you don't mind," the green-eyed woman pleaded.

Gazing upon her husband for a short moment, Giselle looked back at Ellis and shrugged. "I don't see why not."

Ellis nearly beamed. "Thank you."

"Uh, you're welcome...I guess."

Parting ways with Tre for the time being, Giselle and Ellis walked side by side until they stepped out of the Gold Room and simply stood outside the doors, and off to the side.

Giselle finally took notice of the red, Birkin bag by Hermès Ellis was grasping in her right hand; a bag that cost a pretty penny, starting at around six thousand dollars and up. It was a sign of ultimate luxury and there was no doubt in Giselle's mind that Ellis had more money by herself than Tre, Billie Joe and Mike ever did.

As the two women stood there, one before the other, Ellis finally spoke up as she looked down at her bag and opened it with shaky hands, causing Giselle to wonder why in the hell Ellis was so nervous. Her husband was the famous one, not her.

"I've exhausted every source, and I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for this moment, which, technically I have. Thirty-one years of waiting..." Ellis rattled, sifting through the her bag, still. When she withdrew a manila envelope and her wallet, she looked up at Giselle and smiled a smile of disbelief and amazement. "It's amazing...how much you look like her..."

Confused, Giselle raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

After a moment of silence, Ellis stared directly at Giselle, replying, "Like our mother."

To be continued...