He had no idea where he was going. Although he had immunity from any prosecution for the crimes Wolfram & Hart had committed, he was quite sure he'd be disbarred. And, to be honest, he deserved it. There had been a number of things which were, if not illegal, at the very least unethical. Hiring Faith to kill Angel couldn't be illegal because Angel wasn't alive; conversely, hiring the demon to kill Faith couldn't have been illegal either because, as everyone knows, demons don't exist! However. . .he knew he just had to get away. The senior partners had managed to escape, so they might be looking for him. Maybe not yet. LA also held too many memories. When the sun rose, he pulled his dark glasses out of his pocket & put them on; the sun was really bright. He stopped at a McDonald's for breakfast and to read the newspaper. It was filled with stories about W&H. Nobody had realized yet that he was gone, although, with the information he had given to the police, his testimony really wouldn't have been necessary. He had also given them a long list of people who most likely should not be prosecuted, as they knew nothing and had done nothing wrong. One was Linda Matthews, the pregnant secretary. He had asked Father Brendan to take care of her, and her baby, and the priest had agreed. If she had had any idea that the firm had planned to sacrifice her child soon after its birth, she would have been terrified.
He kept driving east. The thought of Vegas crossed his mind, but he really wasn't a gambler. Soon signs for the Grand Canyon started appearing. I've never seen it, so I might as well stop, he decided. As he stood in awe of the majesty of one of American's most famous spots, he wished he had brought Rosemary here to see it. Suddenly there was a soft voice inside his head, I'm here, Imzadi. And yes, it is breathtaking. Then a soft breeze, or a soft hand, briefly touched his cheek. He got back into his car and drove off, looking for a place to spend the night.
He continued on his trek across the country. The next day he started to realize that the weather in LA was not the same as the weather in the rest of the country and stopped to buy himself a warm jacket. He turned slightly south and ended up in Dallas, but it didn't take long to realize that it wasn't his kind of place. New Orleans, however, was a city he had always wanted to see. Mardi Gras had just ended, so he was able to get a nice hotel room at a fairly inexpensive rate. He quickly found an apartment that would give him a month-by-month lease and a job at a bookstore. Off hours were spent exploring the city and especially its restaurants. After about two weeks his pants started feeling a little snug, so he got a temporary membership at a health club. How long had it been since he had worked out? Too long, his aching muscles told him after the first session. He had heard a couple of girls talking as they walked by him, referring to his cute face but flabby body! So he started watching what he ate & working out more, and was soon back in the shape he had been when he and Rosemary were married.
But he knew he was just marking time here. One thing that Holland had said to him that was true was that it was important to know one's place in the scheme of things. He had no clue what his was! He knew a couple of things: one was that he'd never practice law again. Disbarment aside, he realized that he hadn't become a lawyer because of any love for the law. It had been a means to an end, a way to get money, power, and prestige. It suddenly struck him that this summer his 10th high school reunion would be taking place. At one time, before Rosemary, he couldn't wait to go back and show all of those snobs who was the real success in the class. Now he knew it didn't matter at all.
He also knew that he'd never remarry. Rosemary had told him that her father, who had died in an automobile accident shortly before her birth, had been the love of her mother's life. Two years later, she had married his older brother, who had lost his beloved wife and child in a plane crash on their way to her sister's wedding. He wanted to take care of her and her little girl; they had come to love one another in a fond, friendly way, but neither had felt the real love they had known in their first marriages. However, he had been a wonderful father to Rosemary, who had loved him dearly. She had been very sad when another automobile accident had claimed their lives when she was 19. Perhaps if little Lindsey had lived, he would have remarried to give him a mother, but that was a moot point now.
It was time to leave New Orleans now. Somewhere ahead of him he'd find the direction he was meant to take. He gave notice at the bookstore and told the resident manager he'd be moving out. At the end of the month, he headed off again. Somehow he found himself in St. Louis. He had always wanted to visit the Gateway Arch, so he did. Again he heard Rosemary telling him that she was enjoying it too. As baseball had always been one of his loves, he found a job working for the Cardinals. It was fun, and his perks included tickets to games and the opportunity to meet some of the players. But this wasn't it either. He stayed a few months and then took off again.
In Washington DC he decided to see if becoming an accountant might be an option. After all, that was his major in college. He wrote up a resume and, after an interview with an extremely sympathetic young woman in personnel, found a job at a major firm. One of his co-workers was a pretty young law student who had worked there for a year between college and law school and was working there for the summer. They had gone to a happy hour with a number of their colleagues and ended up sitting together. He took her to dinner afterward and spent a pleasant evening, which ended when they went off to their separate cars. After the next happy hour they had dinner again. He found himself telling her about Rosemary, although he left out all of the elements she would have found difficult, if not impossible, to believe. She told him that she had been in love, but the young man in question had turned out to be less than she had thought. He did not tell her anything about his childhood as he had Rosemary; he had long since come to terms with it. In spite of the fact that he had enjoyed her company, he decided not to see her again. She deserved to find her Imzadi, as he had. That was fine with her, as she had no desire to become involved in a relationship with two years of law school to go. They hadn't even shared a kiss, but he felt that he had in some way grown a little and learned a little. He dated another woman closer to his age. They had gone to her apartment but, when she invited him to stay the night, he realized he had no sexual desire. Somehow he knew that that part of his life was gone forever. He could never make love to anyone but Rosemary. He knew that what he missed more than anything else was friendship. He considered Rob a friend, but their relationship had been couple to couple. Whenever the four of them had been together, they had never gone off to watch sports on television while the wives shopped or cooked or whatever women do when their men are glued to the tube. It had always been all four (or six, with the girls) of them together. Wesley had become a friend, but he still had issues with Angel. Maybe soon he'd find someone just to talk to.
He moved just a little north to Baltimore and transferred to their Baltimore office. At an Orioles game, he suddenly heard Rosemary's voice saying, "Get ready, Imzadi." The next ball was hit right at him, and he caught it with his good left hand. A man about two or three years older was sitting next to him.
"Good catch. I thought I had a chance for that, but you were quicker than I was."
"Here, you can have it. I caught one at a Dodgers game last year. You're an Orioles fan?" The man nodded and took the ball with thanks.
"Let me buy you a beer, then." Lindsey accepted. As they sipped their drinks and watched the game, they started chatting. Lindsey felt very comfortable with him. After the game, they decided to get something to eat together. They went to one of the stadium restaurants and ordered burgers and fries. "By the way, my name's Ed Brenner. I'm a priest."
"Lindsey MacDonald. Good to meet you." Lindsey felt very much at ease with Father Ed and found himself telling him about Rosemary, their love, and her death along with the baby's. As he had before, he left out all of the supernatural elements.
"I was married, too, before I became a priest. I was a journalist starting out on The Sun, and she was an intern there. It didn't take long for both of us to realize that we were meant for each other. But shortly after we were married, she was diagnosed with leukemia. It moved fairly fast, but she suffered a great deal. After she died, I was totally devastated. And of course I had no child to love or care for. I went through the motions, just waiting for each day to end. I enjoyed my job, but it didn't seem to matter that much. Then one day I stopped by the church to interview one of the priests who had known a woman who had been murdered. When I arrived, I had to wait because he was instructing a group of children who would receive their First Communion. I just watched and listened; he seemed to be very happy. I got my story, and I asked him if I could come back and talk. We met and talked several more times. I guess I was actually being counseled, although I didn't realize it. I did know that I couldn't replace Caroline and I never would. I slowly came to realize that maybe I wanted to do something for others. I considered it for a long time and then decided to apply for the seminary."
"Are you happy? Do you ever regret your choice?"
"That's a fair question. Do I regret my choice? No. Am I happy? As compared with the joy I felt while Caroline and I were married, no. That's gone and will never come back. I would describe myself as being satisfied, or content. And I love being a priest. I love marrying couples, and giving children the sacraments. There are bad times, of course. I have to hear horrible things confessed and, due to the seal of the confessional, I'm helpless to do anything about them. And I have to anoint the dying. But I know I'm making a difference. You know, a lot of men have problems in the priesthood because they go in right out of school and haven't really lived. You and I have lived. We've known love and marriage; we've had successful careers. We both know that the love we've felt for our wives will never come again. I'd even bet that in the time since you lost Rosemary you haven't felt any desire." As Lindsey nodded, he continued. "I don't think I decided to be a priest. I think God decided that my time to be a priest had come. I believe that having had a happy marriage, I'm much better suited to counseling couples both before and after marriage than most other priests. At least that's my opinion for what it's worth."
Back in his apartment, Lindsey pondered what Father Ed had said. His job was okay. He was doing well and making decent money. As an auditor, he worked long hours, so he didn't have too much time to sit around and think. But it didn't seem to be quite enough. He thought about getting a dog or a cat, but, maybe because he hadn't had one as a child, he wasn't a pet person. Rosemary hadn't been either, which was a moot point because the building didn't allow pets. So that was out. But at least he had made a friend.
He and Father Ed became close friends, going to baseball games, playing gin rummy, and, after Lindsey bought a racquet, even playing tennis. Once two girls asked if they'd like to play mixed doubles. Afterwards the girls suggested going out for dinner. When Ed told them he was a priest, they took off! Ed & Lindsey had a chuckle about that. "I guess neither of us has lost it yet," Ed said.
Lindsey also started going to Mass more often. As he knew it would mean a lot to Rosemary, he had been going regularly on Sunday. Soon he was going every morning on his way to work. Once in a while he felt he could see her out of the corner of his eye kneeling beside him, but when he looked, she was gone.
Finally, after they had known each other for a while, he told Father Ed about Wolfram & Hart. Ed replied, "My friend Brendan told me he knew someone who was involved in that, but he didn't tell me any names, of course. That must have been you and Rosemary."
"You mean Father Brendan from St. Malachi's?" Lindsey asked incredulously.
"Brendan Shaughnessy was my best friend in seminary. He's a really good person. Maybe you should get in touch with you again. I talked to him on the phone just last week and he mentioned that his friend from Wolfram & Hart had just vanished. He was very concerned." Lindsey thought about that. When he returned home, it was late, but he knew it was still early in LA, so he called Father Brendan, who was happy and relieved to hear from him. He decided to fly to LA the next weekend to see him, Wesley, and the Thompsons.
Lindsey left right after work Friday and got into LA International about 8:30 LA time. Father Brendan was there waiting for him. Lindsey asked if they could go by Rosemary & Lindsey Jr.'s grave on the way. Father Brendan said he would have been surprised if Lindsey hadn't suggested it. At the graveside, Lindsey knelt and prayed. He could almost feel both of them there with him. And the grave was still beautifully maintained, with fresh flowers laid there. He spent the night in the spare room at the rectory.
In the morning, over breakfast, they talked. Lindsey told Father Brendan that he was starting to consider seriously the idea of becoming a priest and asked what he thought.
"When Rosemary told me who you were and what you did, I was absolutely amazed that she would have anything to do with you. I figured you had to be evil to work for them. Later on I came to realize that there was a great deal of good in you that had been covered over by hurt and resentment and anger over your poverty. I saw you changing every day into a man who was worthy of her love. Of course there was the one step backward when you lost your hand, but you made up for it. I know how you felt when Rosemary was suffering and how devastated you were when she died. But what are your reasons for thinking about it?"
"I've learned that money and power are worthless without love. Although I know that Rosemary is always with me, I'll never feel earthly love again. Maybe through service to others I can find a sense of purpose. I know that I feel a great sense of peace and contentment when I'm in church."
"Don't make any kind of commitment yet, Lindsey. Think about it some more. But it might be right for you. Meanwhile, what would you like to do while you're here?"
"I'd like to see Wesley, and I'd like to see the Rob and Janice and their girls."
"As far as Wesley goes, he's still around. I like him, and we keep in touch. Rob took Janice and the girls and moved to Columbus, Ohio. By the way, there are three girls now. She had a little girl she named Rosemary Lindsay about 6 months ago!"
"If you get me their address, I'll send a nice gift. That was a very sweet thing for them to do." Brendan gave him their address and phone number.
"I think you should consider making your peace with Angel. I know the anger you must feel for what he did to you, but a large part of being a priest, or even being a good Christian, is learning to forgive. Do you think you can?"
"I don't know. It wasn't just my hand. When I came there to help the three blind children and poured out my heart, he insulted me terribly. And I know there was a certain amount of malice in him when he cut off my hand. I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive him yet."
Lindsey dialed the number for Angel Investigations. He knew there were two chances out of three that he wouldn't get Angel. However, luck wasn't with him. "Angel Investigations. How can I help you?"
Lindsey took a deep breath and replied, "Hello, Angel. This is Lindsey MacDonald. I'm looking for Wesley. Is he there?"
"Lindsey! What a surprise. No, Wes isn't here, but he should be back early this evening. I'd like to talk to you, though. Can you come over?" Lindsey was shocked but agreed to come right away.
When he walked in, Angel was sitting at his desk. "You've aged."
"You haven't," Lindsey replied.
"Yes, I have. It just doesn't show. You look pretty good, though, for someone who went through what you did. I am truly sorry about your wife and son."
Thoughts of some of the things Angel had said to him flashed into Lindsey's mind. "I'm sorry. I must have nodded off. Did you get to the part where you're evil?" A sharp reply came into his mind, but he shook it off.
"Thank you. I miss them so much every day. But it's getting a little better."
"I understand. I didn't lose the woman I loved by death. I gave her up because I had to, because it was better for both of us. That doesn't make it hurt any less. Now she has someone else." Lindsey suddenly felt sorry for the vampire.
"I forgive you for cutting off my hand, Angel."
Angel looked shocked. Then he said, "Wesley often told me how wrong I was about you when Rosemary was dying. He said you were a good person who had made some bad choices, perhaps even before you knew what you were doing. I've thought about this a lot. I am sorry that I didn't find some other way to get the scroll away from you without causing permanent harm. I hadn't even known that Rosemary was in the crypt until I heard her scream, and then it was too late. I'm sorry that I put her through all of that as well. I'm also sorry for the way I spoke to you when you came into my office."
"Thank you. I appreciate that. Please ask Wes to give me a call at St. Malachi's or on my cellular phone." He gave Angel the number and left.
After the Dodgers game, Father Brendan and Lindsey met Wesley for dinner. It was good to see him again. They talked about Willow, Giles, Tara, and Cordelia. When Lindsey took the flight back to Baltimore, he felt happy. Everyone was doing well. He was especially glad that he and Angel had cleared the air between them. Arriving back at his apartment, he called Rob and Janice. They had bought a home, started a college fund for the girls, and were really enjoying the new baby. Columbus was a much better place to raise a family than LA. They kept in touch with Dennis, who was now, believe it or not, engaged to a widow his age. Before he had left LA, Lindsey had stopped by the religious gift shop and ordered a tiny locket for little Rosemary with her initials engraved on it. He ordered larger but matching ones for her two older sisters.
After another week or two of debating the issue, Lindsey finally decided that he did indeed want to become a priest. He entered a seminary near Los Angeles at the next term. When he was ordained, he was assigned to a small church nearby as assistant pastor. He got back in touch with Wesley and Angel and occasionally served as a consultant for them, even working with them when the need arose.
On September 17, 2008, Father Lindsey MacDonald was trying to help a woman who was being mugged when the mugger stabbed him. As he lay bleeding on the sidewalk, he saw a woman kneeling next to him. "Rosemary!"
"I've come to take you home, Imzadi. Our son is waiting for us." She reached out and took his hand, which was no longer a prosthesis but his real hand, complete with the Hastings ring she had given him. Helping him to his feet, she knelt down and closed the eyes of his corpse. Father Lindsey MacDonald, 34 years old, was dead, but Lindsey and Rosemary and their son would be together for all eternity.
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce claimed Lindsey's body and had it buried next to Rosemary's in the grave at the top of the little hill. The church was filled with mourners, many of whom eulogized him in glowing terms. Father Brendan and Father Ed performed the ceremony. The poor little boy had become rich at last; rich in love, rich in friendship, and rich in contentment. As darkness fell, Angel came by and dropped a red rose on his grave along with a sprig of rosemary, for remembrance. "I won't forget you, Lindsey. I hope you and your Rosemary and your little boy are together."
Softly,
on the wind, he heard an answer. We are.