Disclaimer: I am merely taking some creative liberty with the wonderful characters produced by Harper Lee! The title was inspired by a line in Iron and Wine's song "Passing Afternoon" (it's a beautiful one if you haven't heard of it!).
A/N: I did some quick thinking when it came to this. I figured if I was going to post the follow-up, I might as well post it sooner rather than later since it'll be a multi-chaptered fic. I've figured since I have it planned out I might as well bite the bullet and post it. I also figured I should make something clear real quick: I consider TKaM and Watchman completely separate books, and while there are some facts that coincide with Watchman in both my previous fic and this fic, this will follow TKaM (though it's obviously AU), it's just easier that way. I feel obliged to mention that Louise and Jack are just friends (I feel like they would both enjoy torturing their families together). This will also probably jump through large amounts of time fairly quickly, just so the story doesn't get too out of hand.
-o-o-o-
The first person Louise Green (nee Graham) had decided to see when she came back to the United States was one Jack Finch. She wasn't quite sure why she had decided to see him of all people, but once she found herself in Nashville, she knew that there was going to be no turning back. Still excruciatingly tired from her flight, she found a taxi cab and gave the driver the address she had written in her tattered address book. It wasn't until she actually arrived at the apartment building that she wondered if he still lived here or not. Drained from the day's excursions, she decided that she was simply going to buy herself a Coke and a ham sandwich from the drug store across the street and sit on his step until he (or anyone really) came by.
She wasn't sure how long she had sat there, dozing off and sitting uncomfortably on her luggage with her half-eaten sandwich placed in her lap, but when he arrived at the building with a cat on a leash she thought she was hallucinating. "What in God's name are you doin'?" She asked, almost impatiently as he looked at her with surprise.
"I feel like I am more justified in asking that question." He replied as the cat started to sniff around her.
"What is that?"
"She is Rose Aylmer." He said proudly.
"I really don't get you one bit."
"Are you going to finish that sandwich?"
"Why?"
"Rose is hungry."
She scowled at him as she took the ham sandwich out of its wrapping and placed it down on the step for the cat. Jack coughed. "What?" She asked impatiently.
"Hold it out for her to eat it."
"She's a cat, Jack."
"Doesn't mean she isn't a lady."
"You're awful." She said as she picked up the sandwich and held it to the cat's face. After a moment of contemplating it, the cat took a small bite and chewed. Louise stared at the cat, almost in disgust. "Are you kiddin' me?" She asked.
"I'm surprised you don't have a different accent by now." Jack said as he sat down on the step next to her. She scowled again.
"Edie always says you can take the girl outta the South, but not the South outta the girl."
"Did they make fun of you wherever you were?"
"They made fun of me everywhere I was." She smiled. "I loved it."
Two years ago, Louise was living in Montgomery with her husband and found that she had become absolutely miserable (though her marriage hadn't started off that way). She married Phil because she thought she loved him and that maybe he loved her, too, but once they were married and actually living with one another she found it was horribly different. When they were courting he was jovial and spontaneous and she thought that every day would be some great adventure (she cringes now when she thinks about how she was so naïve). Once she had to spend every day with him she noticed how moody, solemn and downright depressed he was. She tried to help him, she really did, but nothing she did worked. The first time he tried to kill himself, just one year into their marriage, she devoted her life to helping him but her efforts were done in vain. It was almost as if he didn't want to be helped or to not be depressed. Then they were on the verge of divorce when he killed himself, just one room away from Louise. Louise was only thirty-three. Her mother, in an attempt to make Louise not feel as bad about the situation, forced a chuckle and had told her: "at least you're a widow rather than a divorced woman, it makes you less tainted." If only Edie knew part of the reason why Phil died was because of the divorce.
Almost as soon as Phil was cremated, Louise packed most of her belongings, sold the rest and bought a one-way ticket to France. In her youth, she had always joked about being a spinster and traveling around Europe living out of her suitcase. She decided that since she wasn't getting any younger, and there wasn't anything binding her to Alabama anymore, she might as well do what she always said she was going to.
Sometimes as she traveled around Europe, a stranger to literally everyone she came across, she would pretend her sister was making the journey with her. She would tell waiters and hairdressers and locals and tourists and anyone who would listen that it was such a shame that her sister had decided to stay in the hotel, or go her own way, because she would've envied what Louise was doing. She would pretend that at night she would be returning to the hotel to share with her sister the events of the day, when in all honesty she was returning to an empty room.
It had been four years since Jean had died. Four years. To Louise, it still felt as fresh every day. She remembered being at home when Atticus phoned from Maycomb himself. He had found her on the porch, dead of an apparent heart attack. Just like their older sister Charlotte, their daddy, and his daddy before him. Sometimes, when Louise would lay in bed, she would wonder if her heart would give out on her, too. It wouldn't matter anymore if it did, her sister was dead and she was alone, and there was nothing really left for her.
That was a lie. There was Jean's children, Jeremy and Jean Louise. Louise knew she would probably never have children, so even before Jean died her niece and nephew had been her entire world. After Jean's death, Louise cherished them even more. From Europe she sent them each post cards and letters along with little trinkets and things that reminded her of them. They wrote back, too, telling her of their lives and saying they missed her. Louise would be lying if she said they weren't the reason why she was returning to Alabama after two years away.
"So, why are you here?" Jack asked as Rose Aylmer took another bite of the sandwich.
Louise shrugged. "Thought I'd stop by." She smirked.
"Considerin' you were in the neighborhood and all," he said.
"For some reason it was cheaper for me to get a flight into Nashville than Montgomery," she explained, although it wasn't entirely true. She still wasn't quite sure if she was ready to throw herself back into her "normal" life just yet. "I was able to get a cheap train ticket to Montgomery for tonight, though."
"Tonight?" He asked. "You mean you want to travel fifteen hours after flying for God knows how long?"
She shrugged. "It seemed sensible. You got a phone?"
"Why?"
"Forgot to tell Edie I was comin'." She responded. "Am I done feedin' this damn cat?"
Jack faked a gasp. "How dare you speak towards her like that?"
"You're a fool."
"You shouldn't say that if you want to use someone's phone."
"Fine. I'm sorry. May I use your phone and your bathroom?"
"I suppose. But apologize to Rose first."
"She's a damn—"
Jack cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at Louise. Sighing, she looked down at the cat and said: "Why, my poor dear Rose Aylmer I hope you could find it in your gracious heart to forgive me." The cat yawned in response.
"She thinks you're pushy, but she forgives you all the same." Jack said, standing up. "How do you plan on gettin' to the station?"
Standing up and grabbing her suitcase Louise shrugged and said: "I reckon I'll call a cab."
"Don't be stupid I'll take you."
"I've certainly missed your charm." She rolled her eyes as he led her in his apartment.
-o-o-o-
She hadn't expected Jack to be so damn messy. His apartment wasn't filthy with dirt, but instead there were books scattered in every crevice of the apartment. The kitchen table had a creative stack of both books and empty scotch bottles. "Charming." She said flatly, rubbing her eyes. She had forgotten how tired she had been.
"The phone's over there in the hall."
She placed her luggage against a wall and walked towards the old phone. Picking up the receiver, she didn't let the operator talk before saying: "Long distance, Montgomery Alabama—please." After a few minutes she got ahold of the operator in Montgomery. Yawning, she said: "Edith Graham, 15 Sycamore Street."
Again, she waited.
After a few moments she heard the phone pick up on the other end. "Graham residence." A young voice said. It must've been Elizabeth, her sixteen-year-old niece.
In a matter of five years Edith Graham had lost her two oldest daughters. Charlotte had been the first to go. Since the death of her son Simon when he was six, Charlotte had taken to drinking and heavily medicating herself. This, combined with the dastardly heart condition that ran in the Graham family, is what led to her downfall. One night, when she was going downstairs for a cup of water her heart gave out and she fell, almost snapping her neck in the process. Considering how Simon died, Louise couldn't help but find it ironic (though she didn't tell anyone—not even Jean). Once Charlotte died Edith sold her daughter's house and took in her two granddaughters, who were eleven and seven at the time. Their father, Big Simon had moved to Mississippi shortly after his son's death, and never came back, leaving his daughters in the care of his wife's family. Feeling guilty for their mother's new burden, Jean had insisted that she and Atticus could take care of the girls. Their son was only one at the time, and it would be just like him having sisters. Edith, too stubborn to admit defeat, declined this offer. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Edith admitted to Louise that she felt responsible for Charlotte's death—she had enabled her daughter to completely shut down after Simon died, and therefore she gave herself the task of raising Clara and Elizabeth to be stronger than that.
Five years later, Eugenia Graham Finch was the next sister to go. According to Atticus, she had seemed almost completely normal that day. He had come home a little early from work to see how she was doing since she hadn't been feeling well that morning, and found her lying dead on the front porch. Louise remembered how he had shuddered when he recounted this to her, and for some reason it made her feel like a child. Sometimes, when she was feeling especially down, she thought about how he had actually cried in front of her after Jean died. It made her want to sink in a hole.
If the death of Charlotte hadn't mellowed Edie out, then the death of her Eugenia definitely did. To Louise, Edith Graham was the epitome of strength, always remaining like a statue in situations where others would certainly crumble. Although she loved her daughters, she was always tough on all of them—she was tough on everybody. To this day she was still harsh, to an extent, but losing half of her children certainly changed her. While she didn't shut down in the way that Charlotte did when she lost Simon, she certainly was different. Sometimes, Louise wished to have her stoic mother back. Edith's vulnerability showed not only what she lost, but what she could possibly lose. After all, Louise and Harriet were at risk for the same heart disease as their sisters.
"Libby," Louise coughed, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand. "It's Aunt Lou, is Edie there?"
"Are you in Nashville?" Her niece asked.
"It's a long story, but I should be in Montgomery by tomorrow."
Louise heard Libby place the receiver on the table and call for Edie. Soon after, she heard shuffling as Edie picked up the phone. "Louise?" She asked, sounding surprised.
"Edie?! Edie, is that you? I hardly recognize your voice!" Louise jeered back.
"What are you doin' in Nashville?"
"The plane fare was cheaper to go into Nashville than Montgomery," Louise explained again "I was able to get a cheap train ticket to Montgomery for tonight, though."
"When will you get here?" Her mother asked.
"I'm leavin' at seven, so I reckon around ten tomorrow."
"When did you get to Nashville?"
"Reckon 'bout an hour ago."
"You're insane." Edie said, sighing. "You'll feel terrible come tomorrow."
"I'll just sleep it off."
"You'll get yourself all messed up."
"Well it's over and done with now."
Edith sighed on the other end. "How was your trip?"
"It was good," She responded. "I'll tell you more 'bout it when I see you." Tiredly, Jean attempted to lean on a stack of books Jack had on a table next to the phone, but knocked them all over loudly.
"Don't mess those up!" Jack called from his living room, where he was sitting with Rose Aylmer and a book.
"Where the hell are you, Louise?" Edie asked, probably having heard the commotion on the other end.
"I'm with Jack Finch," Louise sighed.
"I reckon he's crazy as usual."
"You've got that right."
"You want me to pick you up tomorrow?"
"If you don't mind."
"It wouldn't be a bother," Edith said, and Louise couldn't help but to wonder if she insulted her mother by saying that. Since Charlotte and Jean died, Edith had become more sensitive to Louise's remarks. "I'll bring you some coffee."
"You certainly know the way to my heart, Edie." Louise responded endearingly.
"Do you reckon you'll go to Maycomb?" Her mother asked.
Louise paused, sucking in her breath quickly. Her mother added: "Jem and Scout would certainly love to see you. Atticus was here for the legislature about a week ago and he brought them to come spend time with me and all they talked about were your post cards. They adore you."
"Of course I'm plannin' on seein' them." She responded, finding herself smiling at the fact that her niece and nephew still thought highly of her even after she'd been gone for two years. "I'm not sure how long I'll spend with you, that's all."
"You know you can come and go as you please," Edie said. "You're always welcome here."
Louise's breath got caught in her throat, and she found herself feeling sentimental (she had lost a bit of her nerve once Jean passed). "I know."
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Edie said. "Try to sleep on the train if you can."
"Edie?"
"Yes?"
"Did you like my post cards?"
"I loved them, sweet. I have some hangin' on my walls."
"That makes me glad, mama." She said, biting her bottom lip. She and Edie both hung up.
"Jack!" She called out. "I needta make two calls to Maycomb, if you don't mind!"
"I hardly use that thing so the extra charge won't hurt me much." He responded dully.
Again, she picked up the receiver and said: "Long distance, Maycomb, Alabama." Once the second operator picked up (Jean had once told Louise her name, but Louise was drawing a blank), she pleasantly said: "Maudie Atkinson."
She had written her cousin Maudie while she was away, too, and Maudie always sent back the most humorous responses out of everyone she wrote to. She figured if she was going to be in Maycomb, she might as well see if she could stay with her cousin. "Atkinson residence," Maudie said pleasantly.
"Well mighty be," Louise said. "Maudie Atkinson is that you?"
There was a pause on the other end as Maudie tried to figure out who was on the other end. "Why…" She said slowly. "Louise?!"
"As I live and breathe." She smirked.
"What the hell are you doin' in Nashville?"
"You sound more like your Aunt Edith every day." Louise responded before telling her the same story about flight prices and trains.
"Well, I'm awfully glad you called me." Maudie said happily. "You've been missed!"
"I missed you, too," Louise said genuinely. "I have an important question to ask you."
"Shoot, dear."
"Mind if I come to stay with you in about a week? I'm going to Montgomery to see mama and the girls and the aunts but I wanted to come to Maycomb to see you, Jem, Scout and Atticus. I'm not sure how long I'd be there—"
"I would love it!" Maudie said before Louise could finish. "You know you could stay with me for however long you'd like. This house is far too big for me and the more I could fill it up the better. Why, it'd be like when we were kids again."
"You're an absolute treasure." She said. "I'm goin' to call Atticus, to let him know I'm comin'."
"Sounds good, dear." Maudie said cheerfully. "I'll see you in a week!"
Again, Louise hung up the receiver. She leaned against the wall and looked around Jack's hallway before she picked up the receiver again. "Long distance, Maycomb, Alabama again please." She said. When the second operator came on she said: "Atticus Finch, please."
The phone rang longer than it did when she called Edie and Maudie, and she began to wonder if she should just hang up and try calling again when she got to Montgomery. Just when she was about to hang up, the other end picked up. "Uncle Jack?" A young voice asked. It had to be Jem.
She smiled to herself. It had been so long since she heard that voice, and hearing it again reminded her of her visits to Jean and playing outside with the kids. "Honey, it's your Aunt Louise." She said, and he gasped.
"Really?!"
"I promise, I ain't fibbin'."
"What are you doin' with Uncle Jack?"
"It was easier for me to come to Nashville." She said. "How are you doin', baby?"
"I'm mighty fine, I reckon." He said. "School's just let out so I'm spendin' time with Scout and readin' and stuff. How was your trip?"
"It was good, but I missed you and your sister." She said truthfully. From the other end she could faintly hear voices.
"Hold on a second, please." Jem said as he moved the receiver away from his mouth. She could still hear him when he called out: "It's Aunt Louise, Atticus!" And moments later she heard Scout's voice talking rapidly, though she couldn't quite grasp what she was saying since the receiver was too far from her mouth.
"Sweets?" She asked. "I would love desperately to talk to you both in just a minute but I actually really needta talk to your daddy."
She heard the receiver being placed down, and she imagined Scout and Jem scurrying to their father, who was sitting in his rocking chair reading. In the years she had known Atticus Finch, he had always been predictable.
"You've caused quite a commotion here, Lou." He chuckled as he picked up the receiver.
"I can tell," She said, smiling to herself.
"How was your trip?"
"Lovely—I can actually tell you about it in person in about a week or so," She said. "I'm goin' to be in Maycomb after I have a visit with Edie."
"Really?" He asked, genuinely sounding pleased. "Would you like to stay here?"
"I'm actually stayin' with Maudie already," She responded. "But I'll probably be spendin' a good deal at your house." She added, chuckling.
"I reckon you will, the children will surely be ecstatic." He remarked. "It'll be good to see you again."
"I'll be glad to see you, too."
"I have a question." He said slowly.
"I may possibly have an answer." She told him.
"Why on God's green earth are you at my brother's place?" He asked, a hint of laughter in his voice. She laughed.
"I honestly have no damn idea," she said, looking around at his books. "Though I think I may regret it."
"Is it the unruliness or the cat that bothers you?"
"The latter."
"Did you see the leash?"
"Of course I did."
"Did he make you hand feed it?"
"Of course," she said. "It was rather bizarre. I think I insulted it, too." She whispered.
"Did he make you apologize?"
"How do you reckon I got in here?"
"You poor thing." He laughed. "Would you like to speak to the children?"
"I sure would."
"Hold on a moment," he said before putting the receiver down. Louise swore she could hear the kids running towards the phone.
"Hold on, Scout!" Jem said impatiently. "I've just got one more thing to ask her and then you can talk to her!" Putting the receiver closer to his mouth, he asked: "Are you really comin', Aunt Lou?"
"I sure am," She said cheerfully. "I'll be there in about a week."
"I can't wait!" He said. "I'm gonna give Scout a turn now, she's itchin' to ask you somethin'. I love you!"
"Love you too, sweet." She said as she heard him hand the receiver to his sister.
"Aunty?" She asked. Though she still sounded young, Louise was quite sad to hear how grown up Scout sounded.
"Yes, dearie?" She asked. "Are you excited to see me?"
"Of course!" She said. "I got a question for you."
"Yes, baby?"
"Did you get my last letter before you left?"
Louise laughed to herself. Usually when Scout would send her a letter she could tell that Atticus had helped her draft it. However, she could tell the last one Scout sent was done on her own because in large, uneven handwriting she wrote: Hi, Aunt Louise. Jem is botherin' the hell out of me. Can you tell me about my mama? Shortly after Jean had decided she was going to come home, and didn't have a chance to answer the letter.
"I did, baby."
Scouts voice dipped to a whisper. "Well, can you tell me about her?"
Louise perked up. "Of course!" She said, trying not to sound awkward. She hadn't talked about Jean in a while (unless you count her pretending to be traveling with her in Europe), and her loss still cut deep. "When I come I can tell you all of the stories and things you want to hear."
"Can you tell me somethin' now, too?"
"I can tell you anything you want to hear."
Scout paused on the other end, thinking about what she wanted to know. "Well Jem tells me 'bout her sometimes but I want to hear what you hafta say since you knew her longest," she started. "What did she smell like and what was her favorite color?"
Louise couldn't help but to smile at how innocent those questions were. "She smelled sweet," She began. "I think her soap had rose water infused in it or somethin' so she was always smellin' real nice. Her favorite color was gray."
"Gray, really?" Scout asked.
"Isn't it borin'?" Louise chuckled. "Your mama loved it because of the different types of gray the clouds turned when it rained. She loved the rain and she loved gray."
"I love the rain, too." Scout said.
"Just like your mama."
"Can I ask one more question?"
"You certainly may."
"Did mama ever play in the rain—like I do?"
Louise smiled, thinking back to her childhood when she and her sister would run around and dance in the rain until Edith told them to stop acting so foolishly. "She played in the rain just like you," Louise confirmed. "She would run around in the wet grass and get her feet all dirty and me and her would make up dances outside on our front lawn when it was raining and she would run around and let her clothes get all dirty. Why, I think one time when you were just startin' to walk she took you and your brother outside to play in the rain with her."
On the other end, Scout giggled. "That sounds like fun." She said simply.
"It was, baby. Every time you play in the rain you can think of her as a little girl twirlin' and dancin' about."
"Thank you, Aunty." Scout said. "I love you."
"Love you too, sweet."