A/N: This is more or less the end of the story. I've never owned Persuasion. But I hope you enjoy this. I'm throwing everything together and ending it like this. I had once planned to something far more drawn out and similar to Persuasion or at least Much More than a Fairy Tale since this story was based on and drawn from my older story, Much More than a Fairy Tale but unfortunately I'm a college student and I'm living in Spain for the semester and I don't have as much time as I might like. Also, my hard drive crashed about two months ago and I lost all my notes and plans for this story. So I'm just wrapping everything up now. I don't think there was ever that much interest in this story. And I know that the political opinions expressed in this story drove many readers away. But I have always felt very passionately about this story and I really like it. Persuasion is probably my favorite Austen novel and I really love retelling the story in a modern context. And I hope that you can enjoy this last chapter. I also don't own the sonnet that I used to open the chapter.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! It is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
-Sonnet 116, William Shakespeare
While my dad and his cronies were going crazy over Obama's win at my house, I just wanted to go someplace and get some sleep. I knew that wouldn't be possible at home. The alcohol was now free-flowing in typical Walsh family style. So I called Michelle Murray and asked if I could borrow her couch for the night. "My dad is having a party at our house but I still have to work tomorrow morning. Do you mind if I spend the night at your place?"
"Sure," she said. "I'll get the couch ready for you. Just to warn you, Dave isn't home. But why aren't they all going down to Grant Park?"
"Michelle, it's my dad; I never really know. I just know that they wanted to stay here and stay warm and keep me awake all night."
"Did Bryan win his election?"
"Yes, Rebecca called about half an hour ago to let us know. They're both thrilled. So my dad is celebrating that too. And all the celebrating is being done in grand, glorious Irish style."
"Well, come over whenever you're ready. You can have the couch for as long as you need it."
"I just want to call Connor quickly and then I'll be over."
"We'll see you soon."
Connor completely understood how I felt. "Dad isn't in Grant Park because he knows and we both know how he parties when something like this happens," he said. "When Clinton won in 1996, Dad got drunk out of his mind. And we both know that Dad is a sloppy drunk."
"He wasn't like that before Mom died."
"Well, his North Star fell from the sky and he got lost. He was a different person when she was alive. But he lost the person who kept him on the straight and narrow and he got lost. In all honesty, he's a very confused man. But he's my dad and I love him for some reason."
"We love him because he's our father and we know what he can be."
"Maybe someday he'll be that person again."
I smiled. "I doubt it."
"We can hope and pray." Connor really is an eternal optimist. He really is a person who believes that love hopes all things and endures all things. In that, he is the most like our mom out of all four kids. My mom was eternally optimistic and she really kept all of us going, especially Dad. I really think we all believed she could kick cancer's butt because of her optimism. But she's gone. When she died, it was like a horrible practical joke without a punch line.
"So I hear you finally kicked Marshall to the curb for good."
"That's been over for months now; he just didn't understand that. But the Beatles were right; money can't buy me love," I told him. "He wasn't real; he was just acting. I had fun with him but he wasn't real."
"And he isn't Greg."
"That's over. I'm just going to have to get over Greg."
"Or be single for the rest of your life. It would be horribly romantic of you. Think about it. You lost your one true love because of your family and so you spend the rest of your life as this devoted teacher who pours her life into her work and changes the world. One of your former students becomes the president of the United States and another becomes the Pope and another becomes the next Mother Teresa and they all claim you, the sainted Miss Meghan Walsh of St. Mary's Elementary School in Chicago, as their inspiration. The world becomes fascinated by you and you win the Noble Peace Prize. And then when you die, the world discovers that your inspiration and your driving force was your strange and bittersweet romance with Gregory Fenton. Someone will write a book about your tragic love story. And then they will make a movie about the two of you. It will be beautiful and oh so romantic. It will win Oscars and women will cry buckets filled with tears over it. It will be compared to Nicholas Sparks's novels but it will be better because it will be a true story. Doesn't that sound amazing?"
"It sounds like you need to either go to bed or become a novelist."
"It will be the love story that moves a generation," my older brother insisted.
"You're a horrible person and I'm ending this conversation right now," I replied.
"Meghan, you're boring."
"I screwed things up with Greg."
Connor sighed. "And he was an asshole about the whole thing. He should have fought harder for you. He wrote one stupid column and then let things go. If he wanted you so badly, he wasn't very willing to work for you. I'm not going to let some wimp marry my favorite sister."
"And I shouldn't have bent to family pressure. Everyone knows that Ellen and Dad told me lies to make me end things with Gregory. We both made mistakes. And now we'll both live with them for the rest of our lives."
"You're so melodramatic. You definitely got that from Dad."
"Connor, you're as charming as a dead octopus."
"Now, now, let's not call each other names. Why don't you just go spend the night at your ex-boyfriend's sister's house and we can mope more about the political state of our nation at a later date?"
"I was thinking more that we could pray for the conversion of our nation's leaders starting in our own house."
"The Catholic schoolteacher strikes again."
I sighed. "I have no clue what that means."
"Honestly, I don't either but it sounds good."
"Good-night, Connor," I said.
"Nighty-night, Meggsie-Christine," he replied. "I love you and your melodramatic nature."
I laughed as my dad walked into the foyer; I was sitting on the stairs in the foyer with my coat, my purse, and a duffel bag. "I love you too, Connie. Give my love to the wife and kids. I'll see you guys at Thanksgiving."
"Is that your brother?" my dad asked before taking a sip of the beer in his hand.
I nodded. "I called him to let him know that Bryan won his election and to see how Jessica and the kids are doing."
"How many kids does he have now?"
"Three," I replied. "Hannah is five, Aidan is three, and Elijah is a little over a year old."
"I have three grandchildren," he told me. "And Becky is about to give me another one. When are you going to get married?"
"When I find the right guy," I replied.
"What was wrong with Marshall? I loved him. He was so handsome and rich and enthusiastic. You two would have had beautiful children together."
I shrugged; Marshall had been kissing my dad's ass constantly while treating me like a princess but ignoring my true needs and wants. "He just wasn't right for me."
"You could end up old and alone."
"But if I'm happy without a man, then why bother with one? After all, a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle."
"I just don't want you to be lonely, Meggsie." My dad was a sloppy, sentimental drunk.
I smiled and patted his hand before putting on my coat. "I am happy, Daddy," I told him. "I love my job and I have lots of friends. I am happy. Go celebrate Obama. It's the first Black president; think about how hard you've worked for that."
He smiled at me and kissed my cheek. "You're witnessing history. Even a conservative like you should be able to understand that."
"I do," I told him. "Daddy, I'm very proud of my nation for electing a Black man to be our president. I just worry about his politics. You know me; I'm very pro-life."
"You're a papist like your mother. You put the Church above all else."
"It happens."
"It's not a bad thing," he told me. "It's just very different especially in this country. Your mother was like that. You're a lot like her. Meggsie, I think you were Maureen's favorite; you and Connor, she loved you two the most. And you two are just like her. And then you made Benjamin like you. But I've got Becky; she thinks like I do. I think differently than Maureen did. I'm an American before I'm a Catholic. I'm a Catholic American."
"And I'm an American Roman Catholic; American just tells you where the Roman Catholic is from. The Church will always be first for me."
"It's that damn Gregory Fenton's fault."
I shrugged, wondering why Greg kept coming up tonight. "I think Greg had something to do with it. But it's also Connor's fault."
"Damn Connor," he said. "I screwed up with him. I just pushed your brother away because he was different and I couldn't understand him. You and Benjamin disagree with me but you still love me. Why doesn't Connor love me anymore?"
"You need to lay off the beer," I told him, patting his shoulder with a smile. "But I'll see you later. I need to get going. But remember this, Dad. Connor does love you; you just need to try being nicer to him. But I really do need to get going."
"Where are you going?"
"I'm spending the night at Michelle's. I have to get up earlier for work tomorrow and it's just easier to spend the night there. It's quieter there and I can get more sleep."
"You have to work tomorrow? I don't." He also gets really stupid when he's drunk.
I patted his shoulder again and smiled. "I know, Daddy. But no matter who wins the election, I still have to work. So I'll see you later."
"I love you, Meggsie. I'm a bad parent but I love you."
"I love you too, Dad," I told him, kissing his cheek. And then I left his house.
I drove over to the Murrays' house so I could just leave for work from there the next morning. And then I walked to the front door and rang the bell. "Hey, come on in," my favorite ex-boyfriend said when he opened the door. "Michelle said you would be coming over."
"Gregory, what are you doing here?" I asked as I stepped inside the house and he shut the door behind me. "I would have thought you would be in Arizona at McCain's headquarters."
"I voted in Connecticut this morning," he said leading me into the living room. "And now I'm spending a couple of weeks here. Michelle is pregnant, again, and Dave is doing this weird thing where he's going to be at the Mayo Clinic as a guest surgeon for a like a month or two. So I arrive in Chicago with my portable job to play surrogate Daddy indefinitely."
I smiled as I put down my duffle bag and purse and made myself at home on the couch. "I haven't seen you much recently."
"The election kept me pretty busy," he replied. "But I saw you at the fourth of July, Labor Day, and Katie's birthday party. And we talked for over an hour at each of those events as well as scattered conversations in the backyard whenever we ran into each other during my scattered visits to my sister's house."
"And Labor Day and Katie's birthday party were the same weekend and over two months ago. I'm not sure I know anything about what you've been up to in the past two months besides what I read in your column."
"You still read my column? But we broke up almost three years ago."
"But I still agree with your politics and your morality. I started reading your column before I met you. And, in case you're wondering, not only did I vote for McCain this morning but I told my dad that to his face when I got home from work this afternoon. I didn't even bother to wait for the family email or anything."
Greg stood in the doorway to the living room staring at me. "You do realize that I was an idiot not to chase after you when you ran off on me all those years ago, don't you? I should have chased you down and told you that your family was full of liars and idiots and that you deserved more. Instead, I was insensitive and immature. And I acted like it was your fault. I threw myself at your stepsister. But I didn't want her. I just wanted to prove to you that I wasn't interested in you anymore, that I wasn't in love with you anymore. I wanted you to know how much you'd hurt me. I wanted to hurt you like I'd hurt you. But last winter, during your sister's wedding, I realized something. I kept hurting myself. And you were getting hurt on all sides, including by me. I had once claimed to love you. I had once promised to protect you. But at that wedding, I saw how your family treated you. I saw the way Tasha and Jill abuse you. I saw the way your dad and Ellen talk to you. Your brothers respect you and adore you, but they're the only ones. And that was when I realized that you hadn't broken up with me because you wanted to do it. You did it because you were told to do it, tricked into doing it. Your brothers told me about how you were in therapy to help you learn to move past the way your family treats you and to become a stronger woman. And then this past summer, I saw your family pushing Marshall at you."
And then I laughed. "And you thought that I'd go over to him and marry him."
"Well, you looked pretty serious about him at the Fourth of July."
"He was pretty serious about me. I was never serious about him. Greg, the day that I told him I was a conservative, he donated a quarter of a million to Obama's campaign just to mock me. He doesn't necessarily agree with Obama; he says he really likes the ideals of communism despite the fact that his fortune comes from a capitalistic empire. But he could throw around that kind of money just to tease me about my opinions and beliefs. That scared me. So I headed for the hills and told him to go screw himself. My dad was broken-hearted. But I felt free. That was when I realized that I don't need a man to make me happy. I need a man about as much as a fish needs a bicycle."
His face fell as I said that. "So you're just swearing off men?"
I laughed. "I thought about it. But I really do want to get married and have a family."
Greg sat down on the couch opposite mine. "So you don't need a man?"
"But I want one."
He smiled. "So you got rid of Marshall, a man who could have offered you a lifetime of comfort and happiness."
"He, like my dad, thought that being a teacher was just a stopping point on the path to a better career. They couldn't understand that this is what I want to do; it's all I've ever wanted to do."
"But you're so good at it," Greg said. "You're a great teacher and you love it. It makes you so happy. I know how happy it makes you; I've seen your smiles on the end of your good days at work, when you've taught someone something. I really think that it's your vocation. I think you were born to be a teacher."
I smiled at him. "I'm glad someone thinks that. That's how I feel and I'm sick of people telling me that I'm wrong about everything."
"I take it politics was a typical dinner table discussion at the Walsh house."
I laughed. "My dad has spent the past month trying to change my mind and sway my vote to his side of the table. But it turns out he didn't need to change my mind. The Democrats won without my vote. They don't need me. So I'll stay faithful to the Magisterium and trust God and pray for our nation."
"Did you read the column that I'm publishing tomorrow?"
"Yes, I hacked your computer."
He smiled that legendary smile that had basically started all of this; I fell for his smile long before I ever met him. "I'm publishing this column that is specifically addressed to my Catholic readers asking them to do what you just said. Stay faithful to the Magisterium; listen to the teachings of the Church. Trust God and His will for our nation. And pray for our nation and her leaders. I'm also publishing one addressed to all of my readers, regardless of credo or color, asking them to accept the new president even if they don't agree with him. I'm going to remind them that we are still a democracy and that we must continue to fight for our democratic rights. We need to continue to vote according to our conscience, wherever that leads us."
"I think that's a good idea. I think we need to remember that and not try to run off to more conservative countries and hide out there until 2012."
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to keep blogging and writing my column and speaking out for the rights of the unborn. I think I'm going to throw myself more into the pro-life movement right now."
I nodded. "That's how I feel."
He looked at me. "Meghan, you know that I'm really sorry about the way I've treated you in the past few years. I've been an utter asshole to you."
"But I've been no saint either. I just took off when my family attacked us."
"Meghan, let me talk," he said. "I should have been patient and caring with you when instead I was judgmental and harsh. I hurt you more when I should have been trying to help you and show you how amazing I thought you were. I added to your problems when I should have been trying to ease your burden. But I tried to push you from my mind and my heart. I cared for you but I tried to make myself stop loving you. But I couldn't stop loving you. No matter how much I tried to make myself fall in love with Jill, it could not happen. I have loved none but you. Maybe I've been unfair or unjust. I have been weak and resentful and hurtful; I know that. But I've never stopped loving you. I realized that at the wedding last winter. You're the reason I keep coming back to Chicago."
My breath hitched and I just sat there, staring at him. My ex-boyfriend was sitting there telling me that he loved me and wanted to be with me. And all I could do was sit there and stare at him.
And then he continued. "Whenever I think about my future, you're always right beside me. I want you. I need you. I can't keep living without you. Meghan, I love you and I want you back. Say something, anything, please!"
Tears were pouring down my cheeks as I listened to his last few sentences and all I could do was nod like an utter fool. "Yes," I whispered.
As soon as the words were out of my lips, he was flying across the room and taking me in his arms. He was kissing my cheeks, my nose, my eyes, my lips, and my neck and I was kissing him back and clinging to him as I cried. "I love you, Gregory," I whispered in his ear.
He pulled away from me at that and smiled. "I've waited for months to hear that from your lips."
"You can hear it as often as you want now," I replied. "I'm not changing my mind about you ever again. You've got me for good now, Greg."
He kissed my forehead again as we heard footsteps on the stairs. Michelle was standing in the entrance to the room wearing her glasses and a bathrobe over her pajamas. "What is going on down here?" she asked with a hand resting on her seven months pregnant belly.
"We were working out a few things," Greg told her.
She looked at us. "You've been kissing. You two were definitely kissing each other."
"I told you. We were working something out."
"Are you finally going to marry her?"
I looked at Greg and he looked at me. "I was planning to ask her to marry me about three years ago but that never happened."
"So ask her now, you fool."
Greg blushed and I smiled. "Michelle, it doesn't just work like that. We broke up almost three years ago and we just got back together five minutes ago. We can't just get engaged. That's not how these things work."
"Oh grow up. We all know that you two were destined for each other. You both know what you want out of life. You want the same things and you know that you love each other. And neither one of you is getting any younger. So just get engaged. I know you still have that ring. Heck, it's probably upstairs in your suitcase right now. So say the magic happy words. Get engaged. Get married next summer. Have many, many babies. And live happily ever after."
I laughed and leaned my head against his chest. And then he kissed the top of my head. "Well," he said. "Should we just get engaged or should we date for a while before we do that?"
"Greg, we're going to end up engaged no matter what, aren't we?"
He nodded. "I would assume so."
"Let's just go for it then."
He smiled. "Then I need to get something from my room." And then he ran upstairs.
"Are you just going to stand there and watch?" I asked Michelle.
"I'm seven months pregnant," she said. "And I am both his sister and your next-door neighbor. I've watched this relationship grow and evolve over the past four years. I'm your biggest fan. I get to watch you two get engaged."
I smiled and leaned back against the couch. "Michelle, have you been trying to work the two of us back together?"
"Since January," she replied simply. "In January, he came to his four sisters and told us about what happened at the wedding. We told him he had to leave you alone until the primaries were over because he'd be so busy and because of Jill. Liz gave him a good raking down and cussed him out beautifully. But then he had our permission to chase after you. I wanted to see you happy. I knew that Marshall wasn't for you and I knew that if you could work through your family, Greg was the guy for you."
"What are you two talking about?" Greg asked as he came back downstairs with a small velvet box in his hand.
"I'm explaining why I get to watch you two get engaged," his sister replied.
He sighed. "I'm not arguing with you. It's after midnight and I'm tired. I just want to get engaged and get some sleep."
"And I have to go to work tomorrow morning," I said. "So let's just get this over with."
"This is not going to be romantic, is it?" she asked.
Gregory got down on one knee in front of me and smiled. "Meghan, I've loved you for a long time. I know we've had a very rough and long road to this moment. But I love you and I can't live without you anymore. I want you. I want to have a family with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But first I need to marry you. So will you, Meghan Christine Walsh, marry me?"
I smiled and pressed my forehead against his. "Yes, Gregory, I will marry you."
He smiled and slid a ring onto my left ring finger. "I've had this ring for a long time; I bought it about three years ago. I was going to propose to you when I took you to my parents' house for New Year's but things didn't work out. I kept it in my dresser for a long time, looking at it bitterly and angrily. But then last January, I started taking it with me everywhere. I never knew when I would need it. And now I'm finally giving it to you."
And then he kissed me and pulled me into his lap. "We're getting married," he whispered in my ear. "The Republicans might have lost big time today but I finally won something. And it's all I've ever wanted."
I kissed his forehead and then looked over his shoulder at his sister. Michelle was beaming. I smiled at her and then hid my face in Greg's shoulder. "I get you," I whispered in his ear. "I finally get you."
"Should we tell your dad?"
"Not tonight," I told him. "They're partying over there. He was pretty drunk when I left. Let's wait until tomorrow."
"Can we tell my family tonight?"
"Do you want to wake your parents up at twelve-thirty in the morning just to tell them that we're engaged?"
"Just to tell them that we're engaged?" he repeated. "Meghan, this is the biggest news that I've had in a long time, probably in my life. I'm pretty sure my parents would be fine with being woken up so we could tell them that we're engaged. Think about it, Meg; we're engaged! We're getting married."
"Okay, let's call them and tell them. And then we can tell your sisters and my brothers."
We called his parents; it was one-thirty in the morning in Connecticut but Robert and Mary were thrilled for us. And then we started calling our siblings. Karen was still in England and would have to wait until later in the day; we'd have to email her to arrange that call. And my brother Ben was in Afghanistan; that call would also have to be prearranged. But Liz and Julianne were both thrilled to death. And Connor was infinitely happy. He even went so far as to say "I told you so" and then ask if his kids would be in my wedding. I readily agreed to that. And I knew that Michelle would have to be my matron of honor; nothing else would have made her happy. My dad wasn't happy but there was nothing he could do. I was determined to marry Gregory Fenton and nothing would persuade me otherwise. I had the man of my dreams and it was all I wanted. After so much struggle, I was not about to give up this man just because my dad didn't like him.
My niece, Iris Elisabeth Hunter-Walsh, was born a week after Election Day, on November 11. "She did us all a favor in being born on a patriotic day," Bryan joked when he called me to let me know. "It makes me look great politically."
I laughed. "Is she a cutie?"
"I might be biased but I think she's a doll. She has big brown eyes and I'm pretty sure she already has the Walsh temper. She was screaming the minute she was born."
"How is Rebecca doing?"
"You know your sister. She was very dramatic about everything. But now I think she's genuinely thrilled now that Iris is here. But I did have to talk her out of naming the baby Grey Elisabeth Hunter-Walsh. I guess she didn't realize that Grey Hunter-Walsh would sound like 'Gray Hunter,' which doesn't sound very good."
"I like Iris better."
"Good, because I think she wants you to be the godmother," he said. "She's taking full responsibility for getting you and Greg to get back together because you were her maid of honor and he was my best man."
"Michelle Murray is already demanding full credit. And she is going to be my matron of honor."
"Well, she probably did more for you two. My wife is a bit dramatic about pretty much everything. I love her, Meghan, but sometimes she drives me nuts."
I laughed; I was Rebecca's sister and I completely understood what he was saying. "Dude, she's always been like that."
"Since when do you call me dude?"
"Since today," I replied calmly. "I didn't know what else to call you. Would you prefer Franz Ferdinand?"
He laughed. "Meg, you're ridiculous and I love it. Gregory is a very lucky man."
"I think he wants me to get off the phone and pay attention to him," I replied looking over at my boyfriend who was sitting on the couch making faces at me while working on his laptop.
"Oh, that boy; he's just a love struck teenager."
"Go pay attention to your wife and daughter. And we'll see you all very soon."
"Tell Gregory I said hello."
"Give my love to Becky and little Miss Iris Elisabeth."
"Bye, Meghan," he said.
"Good-bye and congratulations, Bryan," I replied before ending the call.
"So you have another niece?" Gregory asked when I sat down next to him.
"Iris Elisabeth Hunter-Walsh," I said.
"I'm not a huge fan of the name."
"Becky wanted to name her Grey Elisabeth."
"I love the name Iris. It's the best name I've heard in ages."
I kissed his nose and laughed. "Don't worry. I prefer more traditional Catholic names."
"I really like Teresa," he told me. "I've always wanted to name one of my daughters Teresa."
"And we'll call her Tessie," I replied.
He grinned. "You'll humor this poor Red Sox fan?"
"I may be a Cubs fan but I can try to sympathize with your pain. But you've gotten two World Series and we're still winless."
"Hey, only some curses are breakable."
"I hate goats."
Gregory laughed. "Just let me name our first daughter Teresa and I'll be happy."
"Of course, Mr. Fenton, whatever your little heart desires."
"Just marry me and stay with me forever; then I'll be happy."
Gregory and I got married the following July and moved to Connecticut. I got a job teaching first grade a local Catholic school but then, on August 15, 2010, Teresa Maureen Fenton was born and I gave up teaching to be a stay at home mother. Gregory made more than enough money writing and giving speeches that we didn't really need the money I made from teaching. Katharyn Gianna Fenton was born on November 24, 2012, the feast of St. Katherine of Alexandria. Daniel Gregory Fenton followed on January 6, 2015. Then came Samuel Paul Fenton who was born and died on April 9, 2016; Samuel was our child who we gave back to God. He was born with a genetic condition where his kidneys never developed. He lived for about an hour or so and we loved him. But we had to give him back to God. On February 21, 2018, our twins, John David and Isaac Thomas Fenton, were born. They were two gloriously healthy and handsome babies. And two years later, Monica Grace was born on March 25, 2020.
We have a wonderful life together, Gregory and I. Our lives will never be simple. But we love our children and our families and our God. The world can change what it will. But we will hold true to what we know. God, family, friends, nation, these are what we believe. In the words of the Declaration of Independence, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, among these life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." We can pursue happiness without liberty and we cannot have liberty without life.
Gregory and I come from very different family backgrounds and we don't always agree with our families. But we will always love them. My dad drives me nuts and so does Becky. But I still love them. And I think that Greg has days when he wants to kill his sisters. But he will always love them. We don't always agree with each other. But we will always love each other. We cannot and will not be persuaded to do otherwise.
FINIS
A/N: To the one person still reading this story, I hope you enjoyed this end. Let me know what you think. I think it's still a little heavy on the politics/morality but that's the direction I always felt this story pulling me.
