"Okay. Ground rules." I began.
"Right." Boromir agreed, walking me slowly along my parents driveway to their front steps.
I cleared my throat, "You're from England. Born originally in London, but you moved around with your father who was…?"
"Denethor "Dennis" Davenport. He was a member of the royal navy before he retired to the countryside after being shot in the leg by a fellow soldier who was mentally unstable, he saved his comrades by taking most of the bullets."
"Good. Your mother?"
"Finduilas "Fanny" Davenport. A seamstress who died after giving birth to my younger brother Faramir." Boromir answered.
"Okay, what did you do before you left England?"
"I worked in a steel factory, working to make enough money to move to the states. I wanted to become a police officer. On my way to Pittsford, Vermont,. I was in a car crash that gave me temporary amnesia which is how I met you."
"Why Pittsford?"
"I was on my way to the Police Academy to enroll, however with my head injury I wouldn't be able to pass now; so I work at the pack store until my head is fully recovered."
"Excellent. My family knows nothing about England so they'll chalk your name up to the weirdness of foreigners."
"That makes me feel better." Boromir scoffed.
I was feeling uneasy down to the pit of my stomach. I felt disgusting. Just standing there in front of my parents freshly painted mauve door made me dread everything that was to take place tonight. I held Boromir's arm tightly, I knew he was just as nervous as I was.
"I can't do this." I told him.
"One hour. That's all I ask of you, my love." He patted my hand gently.
I scoffed, "If we even live that long."
"Your sister is already here. Surely she will soften the blow." Boromir tried to reassure me.
"Yeah, that'll help so much." I spat sarcastically.
I rang the doorbell, holding close to me both Boromir and the platter of homemade oatmeal cookies I knew only my mother loved dearly. My heart pounded and I felt sweat accumulating on my forehead. My throat dried and my tongue was like sandpaper. Taking a deep breath, I watched the door open slowly.
A pale woman, whom I barely recognized as my mother, stood before us. She hardly resembled the proud standing woman I remembered. Now she looked sickly and melancholic. Her hair might have once been dyed red, but now it looked like an unhealthy orange with grey streaks.
"Hi, mom." I said gently, seeing a light in her blue eyes ignite as she looked at me.
"Coraline Blair…" Her words were choked, "I ought to ground you for not calling beforehand."
"I love you too, mom." I bent down to hug her, smelling lemon on her clothes, meaning she was making her famous lemon squares for tonight, I stood up, showing her the cookies I made her, "I know you haven't had these in a while."
"Oh, Cory." Her small hand went to her flushed cheek, "You shouldn't have." She smiled.
I handed her the platter, feeling at least a little better that my mother missed me. Remembering that I had Boromir with me, I brought him forward.
"Ma, this is Boromir." I introduced him, "Sweetie, this is Evelyn Blair, my mom."
"It is so wonderful to meet you, Lady Blair." Boromir took her hand and kissed it, It seems you are much lovelier than Cory has previously described."
"Oh my." Mom's eyes were wide, she blushed when he smiled at her. She looked back at me, the dark circles under her eyes seemingly more apparent than the last time I had seen her, "Coraline, your sister is in the kitchen with your cousins, I suggest you help them set things up for this evening."
"Yes, ma'am."
I went to the kitchen, immediately bombarded with screams from my sister that my cousins didn't know how to do anything right.
"It's genetics. We Blair's do fuck-all." I laughed, getting scooped up by my cousin Seamus.
"Conga Line!" He laughed, "It's been years!"
"Shut the fuck up, Shame," I thumped his forehead, "You didn't miss my sorry ass."
He set me down, large tattooed arms bulging from under his Dropkick Murphys shirt, "You wound me." He held his hand to his barrelled chest.
I took a moment, not remembering if that was something my cousin said or not. I quickly brushed it off when my twin cousins Regina and Robert charged into the kitchen arguing about who was supposed to pick their mother up from the airport.
"If aunt Siobhan is sitting there alone at the airport you both are fucked, now get out of here." Bethany smacked Robby upside the head.
"Well, I ain't goin'." Regina sat down on one of the island stools, crossing her freckled arms, "Last time I picked ma up I got an earful about the divorce." She rolled her brown eyes.
"Whatever, Reggie." Robert waved her off, taking his keys and stomping off.
Regina seemed to finally notice me, and she opened her arms to embrace me from her chair, "Cory, my sweetie, how are you?" She screeched, making my name sound more like 'Carrie' instead of 'Cory'. I almost looked around for buckets of blood.
"Hey, Gina." I hugged her back, remembering she used to be much skinnier the last time I saw her, the unhealthy kind, "It's good to see you again." I said softly.
"Who's the poptart?" She asked, batting her brown eyes towards the door.
"That's Cory's squeeze, Reg." Beth devilishly smirked from the sink, washing potatoes.
"No one asked you." I stuck my tongue out at my sister, "But yes, this is Boromir." I took his arm and pulled him in.
For a moment my vision blurred, going black. But as quickly as it came it left, and I was back in my mother's kitchen, Regina asking to feel Boromir's arms and Seamus asking Boromir if he ever served in the military back in 2000.
"You okay?" My sister came over to me, flour covered hands pushing the hair from my face, "You look pale."
"I'm fine." I said quietly, "Mother nature's a bitch." I laughed it off.
"Well if you need anything let me know," Beth punched my arm, "Don't want you fainting before dad shows up."
"Where is he anyway?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably.
"Mom sent him to the packy for aunt Siobhan's favorite beer." She laughed, "He always forgets."
My aunt Siobhan used to be a professional boxer, retiring after her 50th win when she damaged her head after a nasty fall. She was told that she couldn't take another fall, or risk permanent damage, as it is she had trouble remembering things and was quick to lose track of her thoughts. After she retired, however, she drank a lot, then quit hard alcohol and stuck to an occasional Guinness at family events. It's a wonder the twins made her fly all alone this year…
"Conga Line, give me a hand with setting up the tables." Seamus brought me out of my stupor.
I went outside with my cousin, holding carefully folded tablecloths. Each of them had a self made hole in the center for the umbrella. I laid a blue and white checkered cloth down, smoothing it out before Seamus put in the sun bleached red umbrella.
"So, uh, Cory," He began, "What's with the stud?"
"What's with the 19-year-old girlfriend?" I asked.
"Funny." He said sarcastically, "I'll have you know she's 21."
"Now she is." I rolled my eyes, "And besides. Am I not allowed to date people?"
"Yeah, but," He hesitated, "Aren't you worried about…"
"Shame, c'mon, if dad's gonna start shit I'll just leave." I waved him off.
"Whatever, man." He held up his arms, "I just don't wanna have to put you in a chokehold after you kill him."
"Oh, please, Seamus. I'm a forensic scientist, who happens to also double as a police officer. I can think of creative ways to keep the heat off of me." I laughed.
"You're a scary son of a bitch, Cory." He guffawed.
The next few hours had been actually quite decent. Regina regaled to Boromir the events of her third divorce. Alex showed up just in time with the kids and Odin and Boromir was glad to be swept away to play with them. Seamus got Alex into a game of frisbee, to which Odin quickly snatched away so most of their time was spent trying to capture my beast of a dog.
I sat at the kitchen bar talking with my mother and sister about my reasonings for staying with Beth.
"And they sent no more news of this monster getting caught?" My mother's face was lined with worry, powdered sugar on her nose from dusting the lemon squares.
"Not yet., I got a message from Harker last night that the girl I had been watching over, Alice, was just released from the hospital, asking for me." I set my head in my hands, "I wish I could've done more for the poor thing."
"Cory, c'mon." Beth leaned against the counter, "You did your job. And it seems she felt better for having talked with you."
"Your sister's right, Coraline." My mother scolded, "All you can ask for now is that those unruly boys at your precinct gather their brains enough to solve this."
I let out a short laugh, "Ma, you know they can't get anything done without me."
"Which is unfortunate." Beth scoffed.
"Harker is capable enough, it's Evans and the rookie I'm worried about." I admitted. I shifted in my seat, "It's taking all of my willpower, and Boromir convincing me to stay here until I get the call to go back."
My mother washed her hands, not hiding her smirk, "He seems like a good man." She said.
"Yes, ma'am."
"He's certainly good with my little terrors." Beth laughed, sipping at a glass of red wine.
"I'm happy for you, Coraline." My mother came over to me, kissing my forehead.
"Will dad be?" I asked.
She sighed, "Your father is a difficult man at times."
Beth and I scoffed. Earning us a scolding glare from our mother.
"I'm sure he'll take a liking to the young man right away." My mother reassured me, "After all. We all have to deal with Seamus." She smiled, "Anyone is a Prince Charming compared to that boy sometimes."
Seamus was the only son of my mother's brother, my uncle Emil. Emil had passed away a few years ago, so Seamus had moved closer to my parents with his new girlfriend, running the local chop shop and putting his money into a new gravel business.
The three of us heard the front door burst open. My aunt Siobhan walked briskly through the house to the kitchen, Robert in tow with all of her luggage.
"Evelyn!" Her voice was loud and boisterous; she wrapped her strong arms around my mother, "How are you, my dear? I'm afraid none of my children cares much that their mother waiting two hours at the airport for one of them to pick her up."
She turned and wagged her finger at her son, who sighed and went upstairs to put her things in the guest room.
Siobhan turned to my sister and I, "My darlings!" She grabbed my sister and kissed her cheek, then she pinched it, "So thin. Must be that lemon water you drink." She waved my sister off, "Cory!" She smiled brightly, her cane barely touching the floor before she hooked her arms around me, "The daughter I wish I had." She laughed, "My Cory bear, how are you, dear?"
"Never been better, ma'am." I grinned.
"Shame about that Lucas fellow. Rat bastard." She frowned, "That's all my dumbass brother ever talks about. Fie!"
"Oh, but, Siobhan, Cory has herself a nice looking man now." My sister pointed outside, "The one with my boys climbing all over him."
Siobhan squinted her eyes to see, "He's a big one." She marvelled, "I wonder if he's done some boxing…"
"Siobhan don't even think about it." My mother scolded.
"Oh, Evie, I'm only jesting." Siobhan laughed, still looking outside, "He looks like my Peter."
"Dad's name isn't Peter." Rob came in, still heaving his breath.
Siobhan looked at him, "Your mother wasn't with Peter because he was marriage material." She clapped my shoulder, "You know what I'm talking about, Cory bear." She winked.
"I'm gonna throw up." Rob went outside, probably to complain about the ride to Regina.
Siobhan followed him, hobbling on her cane, "I'm gonna go talk to your boyfriend, Cory bear."
"Maybe I should go stop her." Beth suggested, wanting an excuse to get outside and avoid my mother asking about her marriage, which was inevitable.
"Oh," My mother sighed, "I hope Seamus didn't forget he's supposed to work the grill."
"Ma, I can go ask." I suggested, trying to stop her from exerting herself.
"I've got it, Coraline." She was halfway out the back door.
I was stuck in a silent home. Finally I had the chance to walk around and catch my breath before going outside to face my family.
Not much had changed about my childhood home. My mother still had her rocking chair with her quilted bird blanket draped over it. It sat comfortably by the TV where she could absently watch Criminal Minds (she always said the show made her feel close to me, that and I believe she has a slight crush on Mandy Patinkin.)
On the other side was my father's chair, the dark leather worn from use. He didn't like to admit he loved the shows my mother watched, to which she swears he says the reruns of Crossing Jordan reminds him of me. I'll believe that when I see it though.
All around the light green living room were pictures and ivy plants, it had always been this way. I remember a chore I had as a child was to water the pots, because Bethany always overwatered them.
The back of the living room housed a small desk, where my father always sat to pay the bills, or on rare occasion he would sit and draw my sister and I playing with our toys. I remember seeing a few of his drawings in the attic, Beth had her thin hair pulled up into two pigtails, holding her dolls and dressing them while I sat on a barstool with a tiara brushing the mane of my immaculately kept plastic horses.
I let out a small chuckle when I saw the small pansies my father had painted under the window of the front door. It was the only surviving remnant of when Beth and I had taken green paint and plastered our hands and feet over everything when we had first moved in. My father had been furious, but my mother always said they never would have discovered the beautiful hardwood floors had it not been for the fact we ruined the shag carpet.
I looked around, slowly making my way upstairs. There were so many memories I think I took for granted the last time I was here.
An image of my mother sitting by our beds, reading to us…
Come to think of it…
I can't quite recall what she used to read us.
My eyes began to hurt, I stopped halfway up the stairs, trying to catch my balance.
The feeling went away quickly, and I reached the top of the stairs without further incident.
Across from me had been my sister's room, turned to a sewing room for my mother. I even think my father made use of it to sit quietly and draw.
An image of my mother with her blue bandana around her hair, walking through the rooms with her mop, Janis Ian or Joni Mitchell playing in the background, she would always go about her day making sure the floors were spotless. I remember her going in and out of my room, helping with homework before returning to what she had been doing.
I was hesitant to see what they had done to my room. I had lived at home long after my sister left for her modeling. I used my time here to work through community college, going then to a more prestigious school for forensics, which is where I met Lucas…
I slowly opened the door to my old room, a small breath escaping me.
The room was still a light blue. The spots where my posters had been were replaced with pictures of my sister and I. My old bed had been gone since after I moved out, and in it's place was a line of bookshelves. The large window overlooking the backyard, and the woods behind it. I remembered sitting in front of it with my sister, watching to see if any animals dared come into the view of the floodlights by our kitchen door.
There was a thoughtfully placed creampuff chair where my old desk had been, I laughed at how ridiculously small it was compared to everything in the room.
Beside me, however, was a large shelf of all of the trophies I had ever won. My graduation caps neatly mounted behind them. Next to it had been framed newspaper articles of cases I had been working on, my name highlighted in bright yellow.
"I remember when that article first came out," Someone said behind me, I didn't have to turn around to recognize that my father was there, "Your mother screamed when she saw your name."
He came up behind me, I could smell the ever present scent of burnt wood.
"Ever since then, she combed the papers to see if there was anything else. And when there wasn't any that week, she'd go on the computer and print out your published articles." He told me.
"Dad…" I said quietly, turning to him.
He wasn't looking at me, but at the pictures, but I could see his large brown eyes had been glossed over, "Coraline Blair, an accomplished Doctor of forensics, and newly instated police officer of the Ithaca police department, made quick work of the case of Jonah Johansen, noted homicidal rapist. She worked with efficiency on the case, which was not even two days on her desk, before she spotted DNA evidence that locked him away for life. Vermont can expect great things from this young woman." He had been reading the first article I had been in, "Your mother knows those words by heart by now." He chuckled, "For months she would be with Siobhan and her friends talking about that case." My father shook his head, I couldn't tell if under his mustache he had been smiling or not.
I scratched the back of my neck, "There was a lot of pressure for me to work that case. It was luck is all."
My father grunted, "I suppose."
We were silent for a few moments.
"We should go see if Seamus burned the food." He suggested.
I laughed. "I'll order some pizza. My treat."
My father grunted again, and I followed him downstairs into the fray of my family, my head throbbing in protest.