Epilogue
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This is it, my friends. For those interested, this is actually the first scene I thought of, and then I thought, "But how could they get there?"
And thus a fic was born, LOL.
A final thank you to my reviewers:
Hannigram-13, I'm so glad tooooo! I always wanted them to have a happy ending, from the first episode! I hope this ending does it for you. Oh, ALittleTasteOfMadness, my love, you are a bright light in a dark world! How could I not write more fanfics when Norma and Norman are so wonderful, especially if you wish it? I sincerely hope you enjoy this last installment. Finally, Cleo, I couldn't agree more on all points. I sort of like Caleb, in that I feel sorry for him that he'll never get over Norma. Then again, who would? I love your insights.
Now then, you can ask thank ALittleTasteOfMadness for the name of the editor in this. She was happy to help! I will also let you all know, I'm working on a companion piece that will take us out further into our lover's future. Feel free to follow me if you'd like to be updated when I post it.
And now, our ending.
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Seven Years Later...
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"Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each."
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The taxi stopped at the curb, and Derek exited, paying the drivers a few euros with a quick word of thanks. He walked up the cobblestone walkway to the white house, taking in the scent of the sea air. This visit was always a treat, despite the uncomfortable question he had on his mind. He knocked lightly and waited.
Norman opened the front door, grinning at the sight of his editor. "Derek, come on in!" he said, opening it wider and motioning him inside. "Thank you so much for coming!"
The older gentleman entered, smiling as he stepped over the threshold. "I must say, it's always a pleasure to have an excuse to visit France when we have our meetings!" The gray bearded man shook Norman's hand heartily after he had entered and followed him through the foyer into the living area.
"Well, I know I must seem... neurotic." Norman gestured for him to sit on the white couch just inside the entrance before moving to the dry bar. "I just don't want to take time away from my family to travel. You understand."
"Absolutely."
"What's your poison?" Norman asked jokingly, pouring himself a small amount of dark red wine.
"I'm not picky," Derek answered.
Norman poured him the same and handed it to him. As he moved to sit opposite Derek, two children ran past, giggling madly. "Whoa!" he said, laughing. The third, a small blonde-haired girl, probably two and half at best, stopped and grabbed his knees. "Suzy, what are you doing?"
"We're playing Tag, and they made me 'it'," she said sadly, looking up into her father's face entreatingly.
Norman looked up. "Nancy! William!"
The other children came back, looking contrite. One was four or so, a dark haired girl with her father's intense gaze, and a blonde boy maybe two years older, fairer and with a more open expression. They both stood silently, looking at their toes. "It's not fair to make Susan 'it' all the time," Norman said softly, leaning to lift the smallest of them and hold her against his side. "She can't keep up with you. Find some other game to play."
"Okay, Peré," William said immediately.
Nancy was less quick to answer, but finally said, "I'm sorry, Peré."
"All right then." He looked down and saw that Susan was leaning on his shoulder, eyes drooping, her thumb in her mouth. "Is it naptime, Suzy?"
"Mmm..."
Norman smiled. "Sorry, Derek, just a second..." He angled away towards the entrance to the kitchen, voice a little louder. "Mother! Suzy is ready for her nap!" He completely missed his editor's wince, looking adoringly on Norma as she walked in. "I'm sorry, I'd do it myself, but..."
"It's fine, sweetie," she said, taking the small girl from him. "Nancy, Will, go and play upstairs so you don't bother Peré and Derek, please." The two of them headed up the stairs in the back, and Norma leaned forward too kiss him lightly. "Be back soon. I love you."
"I love you, too." He gave her a little pat on her bottom as she moved away and up the stairs as well, leaving Norman and Derek alone. "All right, we should be good now."
"Well, we're ready for the sixth book," Derek said, getting straight to the point. "We can keep the same terms as we had on the last, twelve percent of all copies sold."
"That's sounds perfect," he said, taking a sip of his drink.
"And the studio has agreed to let me be the physical liaison for the movie. You're still willing to help write the screenplay?" Derek was digging through his briefcase now, pulling out several papers.
"Yes, of course," he said, placing his wine glass down. "What do you need me to sign?" The older man handed Norman the papers, and as he was signing them, Norman finally noticed that he was fidgeting uncomfortably. "Is something wrong?"
"No, I just..." Derek hesitated, clasping his hands together. "I've heard some disturbing online rumors recently, that's all."
Very suddenly, Norman set his pen down, looking at the other man intensely. "What sort of rumors, exactly?"
"Well... You have to understand, I take everything with a grain of salt. And I'm very open minded." Derek tried to catch Norman's gaze, but he was suddenly staring off slightly behind him. "It's just... your wife is quite a lot older than you, and... some people have concocted an idea that maybe she's..."
"No." Norman's voice was strong, but he was still looking behind his companion, completely focused on the air. "You're not real. I won't."
This made no sense to his editor. "Excuse me?"
Blinking, Norman looked back at him, seeming chagrined. "I'm sorry. You were saying?" He took another sip of his wine.
"They think, maybe she's not your wife... she's your mother."
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"And you can't accept...
An honesty is felt and seen."
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Norman was silent for a few moments. "I see."
"I don't mean to offend," Derek began.
"No, no, I'm not offended." He set his wine down and leaned forward. "It's true."
"I figured- what? It's...true?"
"I mean, technically she's both at this point, since we received a French marriage license a few years ago. I'm surprised that this hasn't come up sooner, honestly," Norman said, voice completely calm. "It was a big scandal back in Oregon, and it's not like I've hidden my name on the books. That's part of the reason we don't travel much." He leaned back, stretching his arm across the back of the chair he was in. "I hope this isn't a problem for you professionally."
Blushing furiously, Frank covered his mouth. Norman could tell his mind was racing, trying to come up with the right thing to say. "Well, that- that's certainly unexpected. I'm... Holy shit, Norman, I never thought you'd say it wastrue. I've been thinking of ways to refute it this whole time. How the hell did this happen?"
"It's a long story," Norman said, a far away look in his eye for a moment. "I've been considering writing a book about it..."
They sat in silence for a moment, Norman reminiscing and Derek trying to fight down his visceral aversion to what he was learning. "Well, I've seen you and Norma together for years, and you certainly seem happy. Your personal life doesn't have anything to do with your books," he said finally. "I suppose if the story breaks, which is likely, it'll be free publicity..."
Norman smiled, beginning to sign the papers again. "See, there's the bright side!"
As he flipped through the long pages of type, Norma came back down the stairs and moved to sit next to her son. "She's down. She must have been completely wiped out," she said quietly, adjusting her skirt. Then, she turned her attention to the editor. "Derek, it's so good to see you! I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you, I'm trying to get dinner ready. Juliette and Antoine are coming over with their kids tonight."
"That sounds lovely," he said blankly.
"Is everything all right?" she asked, shooting Norman a questioning look.
Norman straightened the papers, done signing them now. "Derek was just letting me know there's been rumors circulating on the internet that you're my mother," he said gently, taking her hand.
"Oh." Her eyes widened for a moment before her mouth set.
"I've told him the truth." He pulled her against him. "We knew this would happen eventually, it's okay."
Norma made eye contact with Norman's associate, but before she could say anything defensive, he spoke. "I'm not going to judge you."
"Good." She stood, her skirt swishing around her knees. "I'm just going to work on the bouillabaisse, then. I hope you have a pleasant trip, Derek." She strode purposefully from the room, both men watching her leave.
"I'll have to calm her down later," Norman said quietly. "She's been more worried about this than I have."
They sat together for a few more minutes, making idle small talk and discussing the time frame for the rough draft of the screenplay. It was clear that his editor, who he'd also counted as a friend, was very suddenly completely uncomfortable in his presence. "Derek," he asked seriously as his editor stood to go, "Nothing is different. We're the same people we were yesterday; you just know more about us now. Do you still want to have dinner with us tomorrow? Or have things change between us now?"
"I want to say they haven't, but... I'm not sure yet."
Norman nodded. "Let me know. I hope you can find a way to be comfortable with this. If it would help you to ask me questions, you can."
Pausing at the door, Derek swallowed. "When did you know?" he asked.
"When did I know I was in love with my mother?" Norman clarified. After Derek nodded, he smiled. "Since I can remember. It's always been the two of us. We belong to each other." Blanching, Derek thanked him for his time and rushed out, and Norman wondered if they would indeed be seeing him tomorrow.
He found Norma in the kitchen, chopping onions with a little more force than was strictly necessary. Checking to be sure the children were still upstairs, he came up behind her and kissed her neck. "We're alone now," he told her.
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"The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion..."
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The sound of the knife stuttered and stopped, and her head dropped, face hidden behind blonde curtains. "How did he take it?" she asked quietly, turning to face Norman.
"About as well as you'd expect," he said simply. "We have Antione and Juliette, and all our other friends that know and still accept us. Even if we had no one but each other and the kids, it would still be enough."
"I know, baby, I know," she said, voice high as she frantically kissed his face. "But what if... what if the company decides..."
"Mother, stop it," he said sternly, squeezing her tighter. "You know we have plenty of money in our investments. If they won't publish me anymore, I can publish myself. Or we can live comfortably for the rest of our lives, if we're careful."
"Okay. Okay." She calmed slowly as he kissed her neck, moaning happily. His hand inched up her skirt, touching the bruises he'd left on her backside. "Norman," she giggled after a second.
"Do you need something to relax?" His hands squeezed, and she gasped at the slight sting of the abrasions being pressed. "I've been dying to use that new belt with the pointy studs..."
"Oh..." She took a breath, trying to bring herself under control. "What about the kids?" This really wasn't the time.
"I know." He gave her a lingering kiss before pulling back. "But later."
"Later," she agreed, tangling her hand in his hair.
She turned away to continue chopping. "Can I help you?" he asked gently.
"Sure! Would you get the fennel out of the refrigerator, please?" She gestured with the knife and began moving the onions into the the pot next to the cutting board.
He did as she asked, then watched her beginning to chop it. The scene was so similar from his childhood, yet so different. He thought of the moment he'd first held William in his arms and how proud and exhausted his mother had looked in the hospital bed. He thought of their children that were now upstairs, of Susan's sweet sleeping face, of Nancy's dark gaze, of William's bright curiosity. He thought of their evenings together on the beach out back, watching the children building sandcastles and swimming in the surf as he and Norma sat together on beach towels.
"Mother," said suddenly, and she turned to him. He took her hand. He was an accomplished author, but all his words seemed to have left him as he tried to express his emotions. "I'm just... so happy, here with you."
She smiled at him, love softening her eyes as she set down the knife. "Me, too, Norman."
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"If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved."
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~Fin
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Poetry quotes taken from:
"Meeting at Night" by Robert Browning
"An Honesty is Felt and Seen" by Lawrence S. Pertillar
"Love's Philosophy" by Percy Bysshe Shelley
"Sonnet 116" by William Shakespeare
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Thank you so much for reading! 3