Dear Ella, Love Daddy
Author: Robbie
Disclaimer: Oh, I surrender already - nothing is mine or ever really has been!
Summary: Mark joins his daughter on her wedding day through the letter he penned her on his deathbed.
Author's Note: Remember in "On the Beach" when Mark asked Elizabeth to help him write some letters to Ella and Rachel that they could open on their graduation and wedding days to have reminders of him? I always kind of wanted to play with the idea of what Mark might have actually written in those letters. So consider this my tribute to that. If it's a little incoherent/in-cohesive, I'm sorry. I tried to be subtle, but have possibly sacrificed some of the detail in the process. Italics is the letter itself (the past) and regular print is the present. Hope you enjoy …
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Mark: You think that's cruel? Reaching out from beyond the grave on days when they should be happy?
Elizabeth: I think they'll cherish every single word
- - -
On Your Wedding Day …
Dear Ella,
It's hard to imagine that by the time you read this letter, you'll be a grown woman about to get married. Right now, you're still my perfect baby girl – a little miracle in your own right – playing with your stuffed toys in the crib. You still smile at me when I sing to you and rock you to sleep at night. You still giggle when we tickle you or dip your toes into the ocean. You're so innocent, so sweet, and so darling. But just looking at you now, I can see why your soon-to-be husband has fallen in love you …
And I can't help but wonder what you were like as you grew up. Were you hard to potty train? How many plays did you star in during elementary school? Did your hair stay blond or did it turn red like your Mommy's? Did you take up a sport like your sister … an instrument? I'll never know, baby. Because it's the last thing I want to do to you, but I'm dying – and I'm not going to be here for your life.
Your first word was Dada, did you know that? By now, I know that you don't remember me very well as your father. But for the first year and a half of your life – I was. Or I tried to be, to the very best of my ability. Oh Ella, I could go on forever, but will only break my heart and yours. Just know, everyday, no matter what you do, no matter what happens how proud I am of where you are and how much I love you.
- - -
Elizabeth Corday pulled a final pin from between her teeth and tucked it securely under a loose copper pinwheel of her daughter's hair.
'There', she murmured in satisfaction, as Ella gazed into the mirror of the vanity. Off her silence, Elizabeth wondered, 'Alright, darling?'
Ella nodded, 'Perfect.'
'Good.'
'I just …' Her voice trailed off nervously and she shook her head, as if to rid herself of the thought, and turned to smile delicately at her mother.
'What is it?' Elizabeth's piercing blue eyes scrutinized her only child.
'Oh, it's silly, Mama – forget I said anything.' She paused briefly, turning back to the mirror.
Elizabeth smiled knowingly. 'I miss him too, Ella. Everyday. You just …' She inhaled carefully. 'Just know that he wanted to be here today, would have given anything to be here today.'
'But he's not,' Ella whispered. She closed her eyes and Elizabeth squeezed her shoulders lightly. 'And it's so stupid because I barely even knew him … and God, I hardly even remember him at all, but …'
'But it's part of every girl's wedding fantasy to have her father give her away; believe me darling, I know. And it pains me no end that he can't be here to do it for you.'
'Mama?' Ella turned around suddenly, her sky blue eyes shimmering with tears. She fixed her mother with the watery gaze of a child. 'How did you do it? After Daddy died … how did you go back your life, how did you manage to raise me? If Keith …'
'Oh, Ella,' she gushed uncharacteristically. 'You were my life – those first couple of years, everything I did was for you. And as I started to feel better, I tried dating other men.' She smiled slightly dreamily and stroked Ella's cheek. 'But I found that life as a single-parent, spending time with you instead of strange men and raising you in your father's memory rather suited me.'
Ella was silent for a moment, glancing towards the window that overlooked the beach. When she returned her gaze to her mother, guilt had settled in her eyes. 'I never thanked you, Mama … for giving up everything for me, to be with me, and to raise me.' Her voice faded and a tear slipped down her cheek.
'Oh, not now darling – this is the happiest day of your life …' Elizabeth wrapped her arms around the young woman. 'But if we don't start your makeup now, you'll never make it to the ceremony on time!'
Ella smiled through the tears slipping down her pale cheek, and gratefully accepted a tissue from her mother's hand.
Elizabeth rested her hands lightly on Ella's shoulders again, turning her so that she faced the mirror, and considered her daughter. She smiled. 'Now … how do you feel about this lovely shade of mauve for the eyes?'
- - -
I guess I'd like to give you some advice about marriage, because that's what a father is supposed to do on his daughter's wedding day, after all. And it's so hard to figure out what a dying father should impart to his baby girl on her wedding day …
Don't sweat the small stuff – the toilet seat cover, where the spoons and forks go, the little messes of everyday life. Be patient with your husband – love him for who he is, his passions and talents, but also for his faults. Take the time to laugh at your mistakes. And be generous, Ella. Give your love freely, help others, and be happy. Remember that Rome wasn't built in a day and that everything worth fighting for needs work. Be willing to work through the kinks – be passionate about what you love but never compromise your morals.
I know you'll be successful – as a wife and some day, as a mother. You the have the greatest role model there is: your own Mom. And I know you'll have plenty of support. Don't be afraid to ask questions … to your mother, or your sister. You'll have always have people around you who love you. Family is so important, Ella.
- - -
A knock sounded at the door. 'Ell?'
'Come in, it's open'
Rachel stepped into the room in her baby-blue bridesmaid dress. Her messy blond curls were swept into a chic bun at the base of her head with curled tendrils framing her face.
'Where's Elizabeth?' she wondered, wandering over to the bench and sitting down beside her sister in front of the vanity mirror.
'She went to the other room to finish getting ready.' Ella paused. 'Do you miss him, Rach? Daddy?'
Rachel turned to her sister in surprise. 'Of course I do.' she replied hastily.
Ella turned and gazed earnestly into her sister's blue eyes. 'Every day?' she pressed.
Rachel bit her lip in consideration. 'I guess that … well … I mean, I s'pose it's much worse on days like this, big family events where you really notice his absence. Missing him is always in the back of my mind somewhere … but he was never part of the life I have now, working, racing around with the kids on the weekend – so I guess I notice his absence a lot less acutely on a day-to-day basis.'
Ella nodded. 'It's hard for me,' she acknowledged after a short pause. 'I miss him … so much, sometimes. But then I feel so stupid because I never really knew him, and how can you even miss someone you never even knew?'
'Ell, he was your father too, whether or not you remember him.'
'But I miss him as my father, not as Mark Greene, an actual human being. I mean … I've seen pictures and heard stories and everything. But if his personality was re-incarnated in another body … like a little girl or something … and she came up to me and told me that …'
'Hey.' Rachel grabbed Ella's hand and squeezed it. 'What is this really about? Keith?'
'No. I've just been thinking about Dad a lot lately. And Mom … and how she ever managed to live her life and raise me without him – how strong she was. I don't think I'm that strong,' Ella paused for a second. 'And I love Keith so much … I don't think I would be able to … to do what she did.'
'You can't think like that, Ella. Everything in life is a risk …' Rachel smiled. 'And now you have me talking in clichés and about to ruin your perfect makeup.'
Rachel stood. 'I really came in here to ask if you were about ready to get started. I think Keith is out there waiting for you … and I think Dad wouldn't want you to worry about him right now. And …'
Ella smiled indulgently. 'What else could there possibly be?'
Rachel rolled her eyes dramatically. 'You're the one that wanted to do this thing at sunset … you got your perfect weather, but if you don't move your butt fast, the sun is going to be long gone.'
'I'm coming – go tell them to start, I'll be there in just a sec.'
Rachel nodded and left the room. Ella turned, once more, to the mirror, checking that each hair was in the right place. Satisfied, she stood from the bench and slipped out the door.
'Wish you could be here today, Daddy. I love you …' she whispered almost soundlessly into the air as she made her way down the stairs.
- - -
Think about me sometimes, baby girl. Remember how much I loved you – how much I wanted you, how hard I fought to stay alive and see you grow up. And know how devastated I am that I will never be able to do that. Tell your husband-to-be that I'm watching him, that he'd better be good to you and love you. And you love him, darling. Tell him everyday that you love him – you never know what's going to happen the next morning.
And Ella? Give Mom a kiss for me, will you? And tell her I'm waiting for her somewhere.
Sweetheart, I don't know how, but I'll find a way to be with you as you walk down the aisle today. I'm sure you look beautiful, and I sure don't want you to smudge your makeup on my account. I love you, Ella. Congratulations.
Love Always,
Daddy
- - -
The sky was awash with spilt rays of sunlight in all colors of yellow, orange, pink and purple. The first sedulous strains of a cello began the wedding march and the string quartet shortly joined in.
Ella emerged, stunning in a simple, strapless off-white gown that hugged her slender body and from a caramel colored empire waist band, which highlighted her hair and matched her groom's attire, drifted like pooling water to the floor. She smiled radiantly and squeezed the hand of her brother-in-law as they followed the wedding procession, barefoot, down the sandy aisle strewn with roses.
A soft breeze blew through the copper curls that fell in loose waves down her back. Ella was the very picture of a younger Elizabeth, with pale, virginal white skin and piercing blue eyes. Sitting in the front row, her mother dabbed a tear from her eye and watched as her daughter's hand was passed into the waiting grip of Keith Herrigan, her soon-to-be husband.
The priest, situated beneath a white canopy draped with flowers, looked out into the wedding party and began the ceremony – a hodgepodge of tradition and a variety of other things that had been the compromise of Keith's fiercely Catholic parents and herself. Around them, candles glowed the color of the setting sun.
Elizabeth was lost in the tangled web of her thoughts – remembering her own starkly different wedding ceremony, the rain, the insistent press of Ella's kicking in her stomach as they had taken their vows. The feeling of Mark's lips on hers as they were declared husband and wife – in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, for as long as you both shall live.
But he hadn't. Lived. He'd died – in a beautifully tropical setting not unlike this one. And the irony wasn't lost on Elizabeth.
All too quickly, the ceremony was over, the priest presented Mr. and Mrs. Keith Herrigan and off the delighted, almost deliriously happy look Ella sent her mother, Elizabeth that knew that there was nothing she could do now but be happy. And she was. She had made her peace long ago.
And somewhere, perched on a cloud high above and waiting for her (or so she liked to imagine) was Mark. Peaceful and released from his misery, he would be watching his baby girl get married, just like he'd wished, alive forever in their memory and in their hearts.
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