I told a dear friend I was writing this follow up if for no other reason than she and another sweet friend had encouraged me to do so, and even if they are the only ones who read it, it will be worth the effort.
I was going to put off posting it for a few months, but I find I am most productive when I feel there is an expectation to deliver in a timely manner, so five chapters written, I am going to start posting now.
So CSotA, I reworked your birthday story a bit, but the general content has stayed the same. Am posting these first two chapters at the same time because a slightly different version of the opening is also posted as the aforementioned "A Day in the Life."
We rejoin the Carson family in their lovely Northern England farm cottage outside of Halifax in the autumn, 1953. Penelope and Olivia, or Poppy and Livy as they will most commonly be referred to throughout this piece, are now four and half year old sweet, clever, kind, and silly little girls. Giggly and affectionate younger brother Peter is a two and half year old toddler, although he is more often referred to as Pete or Baby Bird.
Charles is still happily teaching history and literature at an all boys' school along with Joseph Molesley (JoMo), while Elsie is a somewhat fame resistant children's author and illustrator who is most happy when with her children and husband, as well as dear friends Isobel, Beryl (still cuddling with farmer Bill), and Mrs. JoMo Phyllis who works in Dr. Clarkson (Isobel's beau)'s medical office. Andy and Daisy are still about navigating life as independent young adults discovering what it means to be in love.
The Crawleys, along with toddler Mary and soon to be born Edith, are most often in London, but will play prominently in this story, as well as a few additional characters, especially jolly Lily and her little husband Purley.
And what would a story be without a villain or two?
We will visit a certain Abbey from time to time in this work, as well as take a trip to the seaside.
Oh, and Cairn terrier Barley, or Chum is still bounding about and may find himself with a playmate or two… AND GOATS! All alive and well…
Our Chelsie are still very much in love- and there is will be a slightly elevated level of steam to reflect this. I will adjust the rating when need be.
In advance, thank you for your time and willingness to share in this continuation of my little tale.
"Come to bed, my bride."
The gentle, but deep sound of her husband's voice as he passed the doorway of the nursery brought a smile to Elsie Carson's lips, as well as a shiver to her spine as she leaned over the edge of her sleeping son's crib to give his gentle curls one last caress.
"Night night, baby bird."
Leaving the door ajar, she made one final trip through the house to turn off a few lamps during which she felt an unusual nervousness building in the pit of her stomach as she turned to make her way down the corridor towards their room.
"Just tell him." She whispered the words to herself, but found herself taking slower steps as she approached their door.
She had been startled at first by the increase in her libido, but a recent chat with Isobel had assured her that is was quite natural for a woman in her mid-thirties to feel a sudden onslaught of arousal. This, coupled with the unexpected grief she had felt when Pete had recently completed his potty-training had informed the idea that she was mentally preparing herself to share with her husband: they should have another baby.
"Just go." She mentally chided herself. "You want this." She took a breath and gave her head a firm nod, her inner voice now one of resolve. "You need this."
Shaking off her nerves, she forced herself to take a step which resulted in a loud creak of the floor board beneath her foot.
A smile curling upon his lips at the sound of his wife's approach, Charles Carson began to read aloud from his book. "We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together…"
Her husband's voice again stoking her arousal, Elsie gently shut their bedroom door before removing her dressing gown and slipping into the bed beside him, her body sliding against his side as she snuck her hand beneath his vest so that it rested on his chest.
"…with the windows open and the stars bright."
A deep sigh escaping his wife's lips, Charles leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I didn't know Mr. Hemmingway affected you so, Mrs. Carson."
Shaking her head, she assured him, "It isn't Mr. Hemmingway. It's my husband's voice. You could read our market list in that voice and I would probably feel this turned on."
"Really?" He placed the book on the bedside table and pulled the switch on the lamp before easing himself down next to her. "Dish soap, apples, flour…"
"Oh, Mr. Carson," she giggled as she placed both of her hands on the hem of his shirt. "Don't stop."
"Sugar, molasses, coffee, cherries…"
She swung her leg up and over his reclined torso, giggling as they both struggled to get his vest pulled over his head.
"Salt, tea, blueberries…"
"Mmm…that's good. Now shut up and kiss me, darling."
They met halfway, her leaning down and him rising up as his hands moved under her gown, over her thighs, and onto her bum. "Scandalous! You've no knickers on!"
"It is nine o'clock and our children are all fast asleep. The question is why are yours still on?"
Charles moved his hands up her sides in an effort to lift and sweep his petite wife onto her back. "Not for long."
Elsie inhaled sharply as she heard him open the bedside drawer, even in the semi-darkness she knew that he was searching for a condom. "Oh, honey, why don't…"
"I know I saw at least two in here." He let out a little laugh. "Goodness knows that's the last thing we need…"
His words left her cold although she knew that wasn't his intention, and she felt the aroused, excited feeling in her stomach fade.
"Good to go." The bed groaned slightly as Charles climbed back in next to her, one hand sliding up her inner thigh as he leaned over to capture her mouth.
"I need to potty!"
The call of their two and half year old son elicited an audible groan from his father, while his mother felt strangely relieved.
"I'll go," Elsie quickly offered, sliding out of the bed and pulling on her dressing gown.
"Hurry back."
She had opened the door a few inches when she impulsively turned back to him. "Oh, honey, we'll…another night. I'll have to rock him to get him back down and you need to sleep."
"I'll wait. We can still..."
She shook her head, an apologetic smile on her face. "We will and soon, but just not tonight. Go to sleep, darling."
Closing the door quickly, she closed her eyes tight as she heard her husband call out, "Elsie," but she ignored him, choosing instead to make her way quickly into the nursery.
"Mumma!" Peter lifted his arms and reached out to his approaching mother.
"Hi, baby bird. You are such a good boy to let Mumma know you need to potty." She pulled the little boy into her arms and looked down at an excited Barley who was dancing around her ankles. "Come on then, chum. We'll all go potty."
"No accidents!" The little boy announced with a smile as they slipped down the hall and up the stairs to the bathroom near what was now the girls' shared room.
"Shhh, baby. The big girls are night-night."
Placing the little boy onto the small wooden potty chair, Elsie lowered the lid of the toilet and sat, her chin resting in one hand as she reached down and scratched Barley's head with the other.
His little face turning red as he strained, Pete let out a little grunt as he whispered, "Poo poo."
"Use your tummy and push it out. Good job, baby."
"I'm not a baby. I'm a big boy, Mumma."
"You're right. I can't believe what a big, clever boy you are."
She sighed as she looked down at the soft and plump, but obviously long limbed little boy who was clearly going to be built like his father, although it was his mother's deep blue eyes that looked back at her.
"Mumma knows you are a big boy, Pete, but you, and Livy, and Pop, you will always be Mumma's babies. My sweet, sweet babies. Even when you are great big grown up people." She quickly brushed a tear from her cheek.
"You sad, Mumma?"
"No, I'm not sad, sweetie Petey. Just sleepy."
"I'm through."
"Very good. Let's wipe your tushy."
Looking over his shoulder as she wiped his little bottom, Pete smiled up at her. "You can still rock-a-bye me like a baby, Mumma."
"I can? Oh, thank you. That's very sweet of you, baby bird."
Bathroom cleaned and hands washed, mother, son, and chum made their way back downstairs where all three cuddled in the rocking chair, Elsie lightly singing lullabies until child and dog were fast asleep.
Twenty minutes later, Barley on his pillow near the nursery door and Pete fast asleep in his crib, she found herself breathing a sigh of relief as she returned to their bedroom which was filled with the sounds of her husband's light snoring. Climbing into bed, she curled herself into a ball and had a silent weep.
"I am the pirate king!" Four year old Olivia Carson climbed up onto the upholstered ottoman in front of her father's leather chair and lifted a cardboard sword high in the air, her free hand pushing her loose eye patch into place as her twin and younger brother, also attired in felt hats, sashes, eye patches, and their own cardboard swords hopped around the base of the ottoman shouting, "Hurrah! Hurrah!"
"And it 'tis, it 'tis a glorious thing to beeeee a pirate king!"
The phonograph volume dwindled to nothing as the children's mother smoothly turned the knob until the turntable stopped spinning their father's much loved and often played copy of Gilbert and Sullivan's The Pirates of Penzance.
"Again, Mumma? Please? Again?" Livy pleaded from her place atop the piece of furniture.
"Not again! I want to sing "Paradox!" Poppy cried.
"Body Made Her Mineral!" Pete implored.
Elsie couldn't help but laugh, knowing her toddler was trying to ask for "Modern Major General."
"Oh, my little pirates, I think we have swashed enough buckles for one day. Besides, Daddy should be home soon and it is Friday!"
Poppy pulled her hat off and dropped her sword, her face alight with excitement as she announced, "Welcome home surprise day!"
Ever since the girls were two, it had become a much looked forward to tradition that they would greet their father in some silly fashion every Friday in celebration of the weekend; dressing up in costumes, hanging a banner over the door, or hiding and jumping out to yell surprise when he entered the house.
"It is welcome home surprise day and I have a plan that I think will make Daddy laugh so hard he might tinkle in his pants." Elsie plucked Peter and Olivia's hats from their heads before ushering her giggling brood into the kitchen.
Poppy's laughter came to an abrupt halt and she frowned as she caught sight of three pots of the non-toxic paint she and her siblings were allowed to paint with when doing crafts. "But we have made him signs before."
"Ah, but on paper. Today, you are the paper."
Livy gave her a funny look. "We aren't paper, Mumma."
"We'll see about that," her mother offered with a smile.
The week has been a long one, but the more and more he thought about the idea Joseph Molesley had put into his head, the more convinced he became that it was something he wanted them to do. Tired and distracted, he was caught off-guard by the tableau filling their kitchen picture window as the headlamps of his Rover sedan hit the back of the house. Reality dawning, he burst into a belly laugh as the car came to rest in the driveway and he could focus on his three children's bellies, one reading "Welcome," the next "Home," and the third "Daddy."
"I have the silliest, sweetest family," He announced as he made his way into the house.
A myriad of giggles greeted him as the children remained in their original positions atop a collection of dining room chairs in front of the window, the girls with their dresses pulled up and over their heads and Peter with his little shirt drawn over his while their mother kept a watchful eye and ready hand nearby.
"Welcome home, Daddy." Elsie called as she lifted each child off their respective chair.
"Mumma painted on our tummies!" Olivia cried out, pushing her dress down over "Welcome" so she could see her father's bright grin.
"H-O-M-E!" Pete shouted, pulling his shirt up a little so that the bottoms of each letter could be seen.
"Good, clever boy," Charles complimented as he pulled the toddler up into his arms.
"It was cold and it tickled, Daddy!" Poppy added as she picked up her favorite baby doll Tildy from the floor before rushing towards her father.
"It tickled! Like this?!" Setting Pete onto the floor, he lowered himself to his knees, playfully pulling each child to him and tickling their tummies.
Squeals and giggles filled the kitchen, as well as yips from an equally excited terrier who had made his way into the kitchen in search of the source of so much merriment.
"Mumma said you would laugh so hard it would make you tinkle!" Olivia yelled as she escaped her father's grasp, laughing as she hid behind her mother's legs.
"I came close," Charles offered breathlessly, ceasing with his tickling as he pulled both Poppy and Pete to him.
"Alright, my silly-billy children and husband, supper will be ready in twenty minutes." She turned to Charles. "Do you want to shower before? You've time."
"No. I'll wait. You tend to dinner and I will be on tummy and handwashing duty. Oh, and I have an idea of how we should spend the weekend."
Elsie reached down and picked up Olivia before making her way over to her husband. "Oh, yes?"
"We can talk about it after dinner."
Handing off the younger twin to her father, she lifted onto her tiptoes and gave him a tender kiss.
"I'm still waiting to see what is written on your tummy, Elsie."
"Mmm…" she smiled as she shook her head. "Maybe if you're lucky…"
She was treated to two dancing eyebrows before her husband turned around and headed towards the lavatory swinging Olivia in one arm, Peter the other, and Poppy holding on to his good leg, and Barley trotting behind them as he sang a buoyant version of an old tune his father had sung his mother.
Dashing away with the smoothing iron…dashing away with the smoothing iron…
Elsie couldn't help but smile as she watched her family disappear, unable to keep herself from singing:
He stole my heart away…
"You want to just go over in the morning and drive back tomorrow evening?" Elsie handed a freshly washed dinner plate to her husband who quickly dried it before sliding it into its place in the hutch.
"It's only a couple of hours drive. We could be there between ten and eleven and leave by between three and four. We don't have to if you don't want to, I just haven't been in years and years. Hadn't thought about it to be honest, but when JoMo mentioned it was this weekend, I don't know…I thought it might be nice. Especially since the children are getting bigger." Charles took a few steps towards the kitchen table where the children were busily coloring and drawing. "We can do more things now that Pete's out of nappies and the girls are becoming more independent."
Elsie felt a wave of disappointment overcoming her as she listened to Charles talk.
"Elsie?"
She forced a smile onto her face as she turned around to face him. "I think it sounds lovely. Will JoMo and Phyllis join us?"
He shook his head. "No. I invited them, but I don't know…he seemed a bit, down. Said he thought he might be coming down with something."
"Oh, I hope not. I'll be sure to call Phyllis on Sunday."
"This will be our first fair, Mrs. Carson, well, together anyway."
"I haven't been to a fair since…"she stopped suddenly, an unwanted memory making her dizzy and sick to her stomach.
He stepped towards her, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "What is it, honey?"
"I just remembered something."
"What?"
She hesitated before answering, her eyes clenched tight. "A straw doll. I just remembered a straw doll."
He continued to look at her with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Sorry." She placed her hand over his. "It doesn't matter..."
"From your childhood?"
Elsie nodded as she softly spoke. "Joe once won a little straw doll for me at a fair. I was so proud and pleased, but when I got home, my mother was drunk and my father was off somewhere. I tried to show it to her, but she just snatched it out of my hand and asked me if I had let Joe touch me, stick his hand up my skirt is what she actually said, to get him to win me the doll."
"Oh, honey." Charles pulled her into an embrace, wishing there was any way possible for him to help her forget such an awful memory.
"I didn't even know what she meant at the time. I was only eleven." She shifted her head and caught sight of her small daughters, hot tears spilling from her eyes as she considered the cruelty her own mother had shown her.
"We won't go. We won't."
"Mumma, are you crying?" Poppy was climbing down from her chair, her little face filled with concern as she ran to her mother.
"It's alright, baby. Mumma's alright." She pulled the little girl up into her arms, gently swaying as she rested her head against Poppy's auburn curls. "Guess what? Daddy's going to take us to the fair tomorrow!" Her eyes, though wet, were bright as her daughter leaned back to look at her.
"A fair?"
"Mmm-hmm…there will be rides and games and lots of yummy treats. It's in Downton where Daddy grew up and where the big house is."
"The big house where Livy and I were born?"
"Yes, sweetheart." Charles nodded as he gently patted his daughter's back.
"Will Uncle Robert and Auntie Cora and Mary and Lady be there?
"I think they are in London, but we can drive out so you can see the big house."
Overhearing a bit of the conversation, Livy quickly climbed down from her chair and skipped over to her parents. "Where are we going?"
"To Downton!" Poppy informed her. "To a fair! Mumma said there will be rides and games and treats."
Livy's eyes were big as she reached up and took her father's hand. "Can we go now?"
"First thing in the morning," Charles offered before turning back to Elsie, "but only if you are sure."
She nodded, but quickly added, "On the condition that my beau wins me a prize."
"The biggest and the best."
Three potty stops and each of the songs the children knew sung at least twenty times later, Charles pulled the Rover up in front of Downton Abbey.
"The family isn't home, so we won't get out, but that is it. That's the big house."
The girls each let out gasps as they took in the enormity of the house.
"It's bigger than Doc's hospital!" Poppy exclaimed.
"Bigger than church," Livy added.
"And you two and Daddy were both born…" Elsie counted over four windows from the end on the east side of the house, "there. Just beyond that window."
"And over in those trees," Charles pointed towards a grove in the distance, "is where Daddy, and Uncle Robert, and Uncle JoMo played Robin Hood and pirates and cowboys and Indians." He then pointed in the opposite direction, "And over there is where we practiced cricket."
"You were a little boy?" Livy asked incredulously.
Elsie laughed, looking over her shoulder at their younger twin. "Of course. All mummas and daddies start out as little boys and little girls. You've seen the photographs in the hall of Daddy with Nana Joan and Granddad Peter when he was a little boy. And you know he's the baby in the painting with Nana Joan in the nursery."
"But how did you get so big?" Livy's skepticism was pronounced as she stared at her father's large profile.
"I read lots of books and ate all my sprouts and drank lots of milk."
Elsie reached over and squeezed his hand before turning back to look at the children. "Alright, so now you have seen the big house. Next time we visit, we'll come when Uncle Robert and Auntie Cora and Mary and the new baby are home."
"The baby that is in Auntie Cora's tummy?" Poppy asked.
Elsie gave her oldest a warm grin. "That baby."
"Mumma, when will you have a baby in your tummy?"
She was caught off guard by Poppy's question and took in a sharp breath, but before she could think of an answer, Charles piped up, "If Mumma had a baby in her tummy we probably wouldn't be going to the fair. Speaking of which, I am ready to ride some rides and eat some treats!"
The children's cheers filling the car, Elsie looked back up at the window she had pointed out only minutes before, her eyes filling with tears as she remembered the wonder and awe she had felt holding her children in her arms for the first time in the house whose hulking grandeur grew smaller as the Rover made its way towards the village.
"There's a spot over by the church," Elsie pointed out.
The traffic in the village was heavy, the mild autumn weather making the fair a popular destination for all the surrounding villages, as well as the residents of York and Ripon. The spot Elsie found would mean a bit of a trek to the gates of the fair, but a clearly marked exit nearby meant they would be close to the car when the time came to leave.
The girls holding their mother's hands and Peter harnessed into an upright stroller pushed by his father, the family set off for a day of fun and frivolity.
A plentiful amount of tickets tucked into his pockets, Charles took Pete into one temporary water closet, while Elsie and the girls visited the other. Trips to the potty completed, all three children were quickly mesmerized by the sights, sounds, and smells of their foreign, but exciting surroundings and it was soon decided that the family would visit the carousel first before heading to the large fiber glass slides.
"Is it how you remember it, sweetheart?" Elsie asked as they settled into the carousel queue.
Charles looked around, a pleasant smile on his face. "Mostly. We didn't have some of these modern rides, of course, but the barrel fires and the smell of popcorn and roasting chestnuts, those…those are quite familiar."
"Did you ever bring a sweetheart here?" Elsie looked up at him playfully.
He shook his head, "Oh no. It was always just we three boys and well, Rosamunde when Violet made our bringing her along a condition of our attending."
"Stuck with a kid sister."
"I won her a little wooden monkey once. She had a crush on me for two years because of that silly thing."
"Poor Rosamunde. She was just a plaything to you," Elsie teased.
"Hardly. Poor Charles. Too kind for his own good."
Letting go of the stroller handle, she reached over and took his hand. "Did you ever bring Al-"
He cut her off before she could continue. "Never. I never wanted to share this with her."
Letting go of his hand, she instinctively reached down and gently stroked each of the girls' heads.
"I think I wanted to wait and share it with my true sweetheart. And our little sweethearts."
Elsie swallowed, her eyes watering as she smiled up at him. "Honey, this is probably the wrong…"
The loud call of "Next!" from the young operator manning the carousel drowned out what she had begun to say and she soon found herself holding onto her bouncing toddler as he and his sisters squealed with glee as they sat upon fancifully carved wooden horses which bobbed in time to the strains of the calliope.
Tummies full of candy floss, toffee apples, cider, and meat pies, Peter was fast asleep in the stroller and the twins' enthusiasm seemed to be flagging as they scrambled off of the burlap sack they had shared on a fifth trip down the large slide.
Handing back their red balloons on sticks, Elsie gave the girls a choice. "I am going to take Pete over near the church where it is quiet. Do you want to come with me or stay with Daddy and play games with the last of the tickets?"
After a few more bites of candy floss, Livy got a second wind and decided to stay with Charles, while Poppy opted to join Elsie in the more peaceful churchyard.
Walking through the small stone and iron gate, it occurred to her that she would soon have to explain to her four year old what the headstones were and what lie beneath them. Deciding it best to let her daughter's curiosity lead their discussion, she watched as Poppy looked around at the various statues and monuments.
She was surprised by the child's quiet, contemplative demeanor as they slowly traversed the dead, blonde grass that filled in the space in between plots. They had been in the churchyard for well over fifteen minutes when Poppy's eyes suddenly lit up as she pointed to a medium sized stone in front of them.
"C-A-R-S-O-N. That's our name."
Elsie lifted her hand to her lips as she read the inscription beneath the name:
Peter Oliver Carson 1876-1915 Joan Margaret Carson 1878-1947
Beloved father and mother of Charles
"Mumma?" Poppy looked up at her mother before walking over to the stone. Using her little index finger, she traced the letters of her grandmother's first name. "J-O-A-N. That's like me. P-E-N-E-L-O-P-E J-O-A-N."
"It is, baby. Just like you." Elsie pushed the stroller into the shade before crouching down next to her daughter.
"And this says Peter!" She said pointing at the word before looking over at her sleeping brother.
"And this." Elsie traced her finger over Charles and waited for her clever daughter to sound the word out as she and Charles had taught her. "What does that say?"
"Ch, ch-Ay-rlsss."
"Not –ay, -ah."
"Ch-ah-rlsss. Charles. Charles! Daddy's name."
"It is. Sound out the rest."
The little girl quickly figured out the sentence, her little head cocking at an angle as she began to add up the information in front of her.
"My daddy? My daddy Charles? His mumma and daddy?"
Elsie nodded, willing herself to keep her emotions in check as she watched her daughter work out the puzzle.
"Nana Joan and Grandad Peter?"
"This is the place where people in the village, in Downton, bury their loved ones after they pass away."
"When they go to heaven?"
"Yes, baby." Elsie forced herself to swallow in order to continue. "When people's bodies get sick or they get so old that their hearts are too tired to beat any more, their souls…their spirits, all their love and feelings and memories leave their bodies and go to heaven and so the shell that is left…their body without their energy and life in it…well, it just looks like they are asleep, and, their families who love them, they have a ceremony called a funeral where they talk about how much they loved and will miss their mumma, or daddy, or nana, or granddad, or sister, or friend and they sing songs and remember good, fun times they had with them and after that ceremony, the empty bodies are placed in boxes and they dig a very deep hole called a grave and put the box down inside of it and bury it and then a headstone- like this one for Nana Joan and Granddad Peter, is placed on top of the grave so their loved ones can come and visit them and remember them."
Poppy's bottom lip curled and her eyes welled with tears, "Daddy's mumma and daddy are in a box down there?" She pointed down at her feet. "I don't want you and Daddy to go in a box. I want you to be here with me and Livy and Pete!"
"Oh, baby," Elsie pulled the little girl to her. "Mumma and Daddy aren't going anywhere. We are going to be with you until you are a great big grown up. We will be with you when you have your own children and families. Don't worry, angel. Mumma's here and I'm going to be here for a very, very long time. Daddy, too. I promise."
"Honey?"
Elsie turned her head to find Charles, his arms laden with three pink giant bears and a large white puppy dog, and Livy staring at her and Poppy from several feet away.
"Hi!" She quickly wiped her eyes, doing her best to smile at a worried Livy.
"I didn't know you'd…"
"I didn't…I didn't know where…we were just wandering and Pop recognized the name."
Poppy suddenly called out to her sister, "Look, Livy, it's Nana Joan and Grandad Peter."
Letting go of her father's hand, Livy ran over to her sister, the two instinctually joining their empty hands and continuing to grip the red balloons in their others as Poppy began whispering in her sister's ear.
"I won you a prize." Charles called out.
She let out a laugh. "I see that. As promised. The biggest and the best." Leaving the girls near the headstone, Elsie made her way to stand in front of him. "I'm sorry."
He gave her a warm smile, "Don't be. I should have brought you here long ago. Is Pop alright?"
Elsie looked over her shoulder and watched her daughters communicating in their very unique and private way; Poppy gently explaining where they were and what it meant and how Livy didn't need to worry.
"She's clever and sweet and perfect."
"Yes, she is. She takes after her mum." He offered before reaching up to dust away a few errant tears from his cheek. "I should have given you a proper introduction to them."
"I would have liked that."
Charles set the prizes in the grass before pulling his wife into his arms.
"You still can. I want to talk to them. I want to tell them about our life and what a good husband you are, and what a wonderful father you are to their grandchildren. I want them to know…"
"They do, sweetheart, they do. They know us. They know how much we love our babies, love each other. They know I found you. That we found…" He couldn't go on, his own emotions freely flowing like those of his wife.
"Daddy?"
They both looked down to find Livy at their feet while Poppy helped a newly awakened Pete climb out of the stroller.
"Daddy, will you help us?"
Elsie stayed back as her husband and her children each rested on their knees in front of the gravestone which bore their collective name. Their actions hidden by Charles' broad back, Elsie felt fresh tears rolling down her face as Charles moved to reveal that they had managed to dig a small hole into which they had placed the girls' balloons. From a distance, the two joined to form a bright red heart in the midst of the barren and bleached landscape of the graveyard.
Standing up, Charles stood for a moment and watched as Poppy and Livy each took one of Peter's hands, their little mittens hanging from the sleeves of their coat, waving in the wind along with the red balloons as they stepped up to the gravestone, each taking turns running their fingers over the names "Joan," "Peter," and "Charles." Turning around, he walked back towards Elsie, his gaze focused on something unseen in the distance as he took her hand. With a gentle squeeze, he took a breath and turned to her as he spoke.
"Elsie, I want another baby."