Series: Snapshots of the Past

Series: Snapshots of the Past

Story: Man of the House

Chapter 29

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Previously: Jed and Abbey enjoyed some much-needed private time at their cottage in the Poconos where they reconnected intimately

Summary: During a conversation with her grandmother, Liz learns something about Abbey's past and what drove her to medicine; Mary is surprised by Liz's plans for her future; Ellie and Zoey get themselves into trouble; Abbey is greeted by chaos when she arrives home


James stared out the passenger's side window to the children running around the schoolyard. It was easy to spot his popular blonde granddaughter. She was the one in the aqua blue parka, blue and white skirt, and blue leg warmers, holding her backpack across her chest and laughing with a group of girls as they crested a small hill towards the parking lot.

"The girl next to Ellie is Wendy," Zoey told him, sitting buckled up inside the car. "Her and Ellie are BFF."

"BFF?"

"That's best friends forever. They have a necklace that says BFF and it's cut in the middle so they both get to keep half. The other girl is Brittney. Ellie doesn't like her because she's a snob. She's even in this club with some older girls in sixth grade called the Snob Club."

"The Snob Club? Are you pulling my leg?"

"Uh uh! Ellie says they're mean to all the fifth graders."

"Is Brittney mean to Ellie?"

"She was. She pulled Ellie's hair once at recess and called her a name but then the other girls stood up for Ellie so Brittney wants to be her friend now. And that boy that's whispering in Ellie's ear is Tommy. Ellie thinks he's cute."

"She does? What happened to 'boys are gross'?"

"She thinks the rest of them are gross, but she likes Tommy because he's nice to her and he has pretty eyes. Only Wendy's supposed to know that."

James furrowed his brows. "How do YOU know?"

"Ellie told me."

"Really?" he asked, skeptical. "Did she tell you or did you eavesdrop on her when she was talking to Wendy?"

Zoey's eyes danced with mischief. "Shh, don't tell her."

"Don't you get in trouble for snooping?"

"Only when Mommy finds out." She pressed her index finger to her lips as the car door swung open.

"Hi!" Ellie slid into the backseat. "Thanks for picking me up, Grandpa. I hate taking the bus."

"I'm happy to do it."

"Hey, Zo."

"Hi."

"Say, who was that boy you were talking to?"

"Oh, that's Tommy. Why?"

James shared a smile with Zoey. "He's a good looking fellow. I thought I'd ask if he's your boyfriend."

"Grandpa, I'm only ten!"

"Exactly my point, Cricket. I have to be on the lookout for these types of things."

"He's not my boyfriend. Boys are disgusting!"

Zoey leaned over the top of the passenger's seat. "I think Tommy likes you, Ellie."

"He doesn't like me, Zoey. He's just a boy in my class."

"A boy who likes you."

"He does not."

Zoey giggled as an amused James sat her back down and buckled her in so he could drive away from the elementary school.


It was nearly impossible for Mary to watch Liz baking in the kitchen and not remember the sweet little girl who used to sit on the counter and hover over her grandmother's shoulders while she made a sinfully delicious dessert. Lizzie was three years old when Abbey began medical school and Mary became the primary babysitter. On the weekends that Jed was busy grading exams or preparing for the next week of lectures, Mary took Lizzie over to her house for the day to give Abbey space to study.

In between tea parties and Barbie makeovers, the duo frequently took to the kitchen, armed with the ingredients for brand new recipes. The older Liz got, the more responsibility she was given. At three, her job was to stand on a stool and watch. At six, she stirred the batter with an electric mixer. At 16, it was finally her show. Mary stepped back and allowed Liz to take the reins from start to finish. Just as she suspected, Liz transitioned seamlessly from observant student to talented baker.

"Gram, how come you never worked?" she asked as she carefully layered the cake.

Mary paused midstride en route from the fridge to the counter where Liz was standing. "I'm sorry?"

"Didn't you want to work? Didn't you want a career?" Liz reached for the bowl of chilled strawberry mix in her grandmother's hand.

"No, I didn't. My job was raising my children and it was the most rewarding career in the world."

"But if you were going to have a career outside of the house, what would it have been?"

"I never really thought about it. I guess I always knew I wanted to stay home with my kids. Why do you ask?"

Liz shrugged. "I was thinking the other day. You stayed home with your kids and your mom stayed home with her kids, right?"

"Yeah."

"But yet, from all the stories I've heard about my mom, it seems like she always knew she wanted to do something else. Why is that?"

"Oh Lizzie, I grew up in a time when staying home with the children was what women did, but that isn't why I chose to follow tradition. I chose it because it's what I wanted and your mother chose to buck tradition and have a career because it's what SHE wanted. It doesn't make either one of our choices better than the other."

"I'm not being critical. I'm just curious if Mom ever considered staying home and raising her family."

"Never. Your mom knew from childhood what she wanted in her life was a husband and children and a career to call her own. I think she was six years old the first time she said she wanted to be a doctor. She changed her mind about a billion times by the time she reached college, of course."

"She did?"

Mary held Liz hair back as Liz leaned forward to spread the mix to the back of the top layer of cake. "Of course. She wanted to be a veterinarian, a police officer, a horse trainer, an equestrian, a ballerina, an actress, a singer, a school teacher, oh and one summer when she was just about your age, she said she was going to run off to New York to become a go-go dancer."

"You're kidding!" Liz laughed.

"I think she was testing her father with that one. Her form of rebellion."

"So how did she finally settle on medicine?"

"Her senior year of high school, she had a very good friend who got very sick. His name was Stephen Beezly. Did she ever tell you about him?" Liz shook her head. "He developed leukemia and died shortly before graduation."

"Mom took it pretty hard, huh?"

Mary somberly remembered Abbey's heartbreak. "She was devastated. They were extremely close. They grew up together. He was her best friend. In many ways, he was like a brother to her. After he got sick, your mom used to stop by the hospital every day after school with new literature on leukemia and on cancer in general. What caused it, how it manifested itself, how to fight it. Most of the stuff went way over my head and I'm sure over Stephen's as well, but Abigail tried her best to explain it."

"How did she understand it?"

"She forced herself to for his sake. God, did she study. Her school grades suffered because she was so busy with this. She used to sit in her room at night with these big thick science books and a medical dictionary just so she could sift through all the information. Then, day after day, she and her friend, Millicent...Millie...would go to the hospital so they could tell Stephen what they learned. 'He at least has a right to know what's happening inside his body,' she used to say. His doctors were tight-lipped about the details of his illness."

"Why?"

"His parents asked them to be. They didn't want to upset him. They didn't want him to know he was dying, so they put on a brave front and made everyone around him do that too. What they didn't realize is that not knowing what to expect was more upsetting to him than any truth the doctors could have given him. He got sicker and sicker and by the time your mom stepped in to try to tutor him on his disease, he had already become depressed and complacent. To this day, she'll say that Stephen lost his battle with cancer the second he lost the will to fight his doctors for a realistic prognosis."

"That's so sad."

"It is. I'll never forget the day he died. Abbey was heartbroken. She nearly collapsed at the funeral. I wasn't sure how she'd ever recover from losing him and it didn't help matters much that his parents were angry with the girls and with me for allowing them to be so frank with Stephen before his death."

"That's not fair. Mom did what her friend needed her to do."

"Yes, she did. But that's not how they saw it, not that it was that big a deal to Abbey. Stephen was already gone and that was all she cared about."

"So Mom became a doctor to help people like him?"

"Sort of. Helping him through his illness changed her. She blossomed into an amazing young woman, so much more mature than other girls her age, so sensitive and compassionate. She thought about going into research at first. Dedicating her life to finding a cure for cancer was tempting to her, but she found that her passion was in comforting patients and helping them understand their disease, helping them cope and get better by being informed about what was happening to them."

"Then why surgery?"

"Once she chose clinical medicine, the rest was logistics. She fell in love with surgery during her third-year rotations and, eventually, settled on thoracic surgery during residency rotations."

"But wouldn't she have more interaction with patients in a different specialty?"

"She's never said this, but I've always assumed it was the urgency of surgery that drew her in. To know that she could save someone's life in the O.R. and not have to wait for months of medicinal treatment or test results to get a prognosis attracted her. That's my own theory though. You should ask her if you want to know. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to share her reasons with you."

"She doesn't talk to me about it."

"Have you ever asked?"

"I did, once or twice." Liz humbly bowed her head. "Okay, maybe not in so many words."

"What brought all this on today?"

"I've just been thinking about it lately...you know, with college apps and the SATs coming up and stuff, I was curious."

"Have you narrowed down your list of schools?"

"Not yet. A lot of it will depend on my SAT score."

"You've got Barrington and Bartlet blood running through your veins. You'll do fine."

"Not so sure about that. Anyway, I hate tough decisions."

"Get used to it. Life is full of them. Before you know it, people are going to start badgering you about a major."

"Oh, I've got that covered."

"Yeah? What'd you come up with?"

"Pre-law with an emphasis in government and public policy."

"Your dad must be proud you're following in his footsteps."

"I think he is."

"Law school?"

"Definitely! Constitutional Law. I think maybe I'll become a college professor."

"And what about a family? You're going to wait until after school, right?"

"I don't want a family. I mean, a husband, sure, but not kids."

Mary looked up, surprised. "No kids?"

"No. Why? Are you surprised?"

"More than a little. You've always been the maternal type, Elizabeth. You're the only person I've ever known who made her parents buy a car seat for her dolls."

Liz chuckled. "I remember that."

"I do too. You wouldn't let anyone start driving until they were strapped in nice and safe. How do you go from that to not wanting kids at all?"

"Having kids takes a lot of commitment and if I decide to do something radical like run for public office someday, I don't want to have to worry about how it'll affect my children."

"Your dad's in Congress and he's got the three of you."

"I know," Liz said bitterly as she drizzled chocolate syrup over the top of the cake.

"What's that tone about? I thought you were his biggest supporter."

"I am. He's the most selfless man in the world, how could I not be? But...I miss him. A lot. I want him to come home for good and I know that's selfish, but it's how I feel. I don't want my kids to ever feel that way."

"His absence has been hard on all of you, especially your mother. You know who she credits with making it easier though?"

"Who?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"No way."

"She tells me all the time how much effort you put in to making things run smoothly around here."

"What does she say?"

"All kinds of things. You give Zoey her bath when she works late, you help Ellie with her homework, get them ready for school and pack their lunch the night before - as well as breakfast for your mom - when she has early morning rounds so she doesn't have to deal with it at 4 a.m.., you meet Ellie at the bus stop to walk her home every afternoon, and you even have a snack waiting for her when she gets here. All of that along with your normal chores. Thank God for Lizzie, that's what she says."

"Really? She says that?"

Liz took those words to heart. Like many teenagers, appreciating her mother wasn't always as easy as it had been when she was a child. She had a tendency to hold on to grudges, to blame Abbey for not being the perfect mother she expected her to be. When there was a problem between them, Liz was good at dishing out the blame without accepting any of the responsibility. But she had made an effort to change all that. What she wanted was to embrace her mother with all the love in her heart and helping her through these last few months was the first step in showing her that. She was grateful that Abbey had noticed.


"Zoey? Zoey, where are you?" Ellie ducked her head into the bathroom in search of her sister. "Zo?"

"SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The ten-year-old whipped her head around to the sound coming out of Liz's bedroom. A bored Zoey had climbed into her big sister's closet and from the way she tried to shush her, Ellie knew instantly that she was up to no good. She approached cautiously, unwilling to allow Zoey to drag her into trouble.

"What are you doing?"

Zoey held up an antique jewelry box. "Look what Lizzie bought Mommy for her birthday."

"How do you know it's for Mom?"

"Because it was wrapped."

"ZOEY! You're not supposed to unwrap gifts! Get out of there!"

"Wanna know what else I found?"

"NO!"

"Okay, but it's yours."

"What's mine?"

"Your camera."

"The one Mom and Dad got me for Christmas?"

"Uh huh."

Ellie stepped into the closet and saw her Polaroid camera sitting on the shelf. "I thought I lost it! What's it doing here?"

"I dunno."

Footsteps jolted the two girls. Ellie hustled further into the closet so they could hide behind Liz's clothes to avoid being seen. As their sister neared, Zoey slowly shut the creaking door until it closed to a crack, fighting back her giggles while Ellie tried to quiet her.

Liz pulled her shirt over her head on the way to her dresser to retrieve her red knit sweater. She slipped it on, tugging on the hem to get it past the small swell of her breasts and down to her waist, then headed to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Arching her back slightly, she turned to one side, then to the other, sighing at her reflection. She then fetched a pair of old shoulder pads she kept hidden under her mattress and shoved her hand under her sweater to stuff them into her bra. Her lips curved into a smile at the instant change in her figure.

From the closet, Ellie kept her hand planted firmly over her mouth to muffle her laughter. Her bare foot twitched slightly when she felt something against it. It tickled her, the furry little creature that squeaked and lightly gnawed at her toes. She glanced down, screamed in horror, and lurched out of the closet on a frantic dash towards the hall. Zoey followed, howling as loud as her sister as she ran past Liz and out the door.

"GRANDMA!" The two younger girls galloped down the stairs and yelled for Mary.

"What on earth is going on?"

"THERE'S A MOUSE!" Ellie told her. "It was licking my foot. Go get it!"

"Where?"

"Upstairs in Lizzie's closet."

"You little BRATS!" Liz called after them as she breezed down the steps. "What were you doing in my closet?"

"We were just playing," Zoey insisted.

Liz addressed her grandmother. "Are you going to do something about this?"

"Forget us. There's a MOUSE in your room! Don't you care?"

"It wasn't a mouse. It was a rat. It knew it was in good company." Liz snatched Ellie's camera. "Did you take a picture of me getting dressed up there?"

"No."

"Liar."

"I didn't! And you had no right to hide my camera in your closet!"

"I told you last month that if you didn't stop shoving that thing in my face, I was going to dismember it and feed it to the wolves."

"Lizzie, give it back!" Ellie tried to get the camera.

"Not until I know you didn't take a picture of me..." She paused hesitantly. "...doing whatever I was doing."

"I didn't!"

Mary stepped between the feuding sisters. "Both of you, calm down. Liz, why would you think that Ellie took a picture of you changing?"

"Because she does that sort of thing."

"I do not!"

Ellie wedged herself around the older woman to grab for her camera, but Liz yanked harder, so hard that when Ellie loosened her grip, she fell back and smacked herself in the mouth.

"ELLIE!" Mary shouted at her.

"I didn't do anything! She pulled too hard!"

A sound from the foyer caught Zoey's attention and she looked over to see Abbey walking through the front door with a duffel bag draped over her shoulder. "MOMMY!"

Abbey held out her arms to her youngest daughter, but never took her eyes off the other two still bickering on the stairs. "Do I dare ask what's going on?"


"The only thing I asked before I left is that you not fight. I'm gone for less than a week and you behave like hooligans." Abbey applied a damp cloth to Liz's busted lip.

"This was our only fight the whole time you were gone," Liz mumbled in a voice dulled by the cloth. She sat at the edge of Ellie's bed, shooting her sister a stare as contentious as it was abrupt.

"Stop talking."

"Mommy?"

Abbey looked over at Zoey who sat in a chair in front of Ellie's homework desk. "What?"

"I'm sorry we made you mad."

Liz rolled her eyes. "You and Ellie started it, Zoey."

"No, we didn't."

Ellie jumped to her feet. "You started it by taking my camera!"

"What did I tell you about getting up out of that chair?" Abbey barked, watching as Ellie sat back down.

"If my camera wasn't in your closet, I never would've been in there. You're just mad now because we know you stuff your bra."

Liz's dispirited eyes met Abbey's angry ones. "Can I kill her a little?"

"Ellie, that's enough," Abbey chided. "Liz..."

Liz shook her head at what she was about to hear. "Don't say it."

"As the oldest, I expect you to hold things together while I'm gone."

"Even when I'm outnumbered? They ganged up on me."

"You should have let your grandmother handle it instead of getting into that scuffle downstairs. You're bigger and stronger than Ellie is."

"And yet, I'm the one sitting here with a bloody lip. Whatever. Take their side, I don't care."

Placing an ice pack over Liz's mouth, Abbey replied, "I'm not taking sides. I think there's more than enough blame to go around. What were you doing with Ellie's camera in the first place?"

"I was fed up! You wouldn't have gotten mad if she was taking pictures of you every second of every day? I couldn't even brush my teeth in the morning without her hiding in the shower and snapping a photo."

"If she was that intrusive, you should have come to me. In this house, we don't take each others things, regardless of the reasons."

"Fine, I was wrong," Liz huffed.

"Yes, you were, and I'd like you to adjust the attitude before dinner. I don't want any more trouble tonight, got it?"

"Yes."

"And don't think Ellie and Zoey are getting away with anything. The three of us are going to have a long talk about privacy and boundaries after Grandma and Grandpa leave."

"We are?" Zoey asked.

"You bet we are." Abbey stood. "Get washed up and meet downstairs when you're finished."

As their mother left, Ellie uttered softly, "Sorry you got hurt, Lizzie."


"Lock them in a room and don't let them out until they make up."

"Jed..." Abbey uncoiled the phone cord and accepted a cup of tea that Mary poured for her.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong. Forcing them to make up will prove nothing. They'll get over it on their own."

"How do you know?"

"Because that's how it works with sisters. In a few days, they won't even remember this."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed reluctantly as he glanced at his watch. "Listen, I've got a late committee meeting tonight. I'll call you when I get in?"

"All right."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just wish I was still with you. I'm not ready to go back to real life yet."

"You and me both, babe. Love you."

"Love you too."

Mary waited until she saw Abbey hang up the receiver, then asked, "So how was the big birthday surprise?"

"Amazing." Abbey smiled. "After 18 years, he still sweeps me off my feet."

"He's a good man," James agreed from the kitchen table.

"You miss him already, don't you?"

"Every time I see him, Mom, it's like I have to get used to living without him all over again. It's awful."

"It'll get easier," James assured her.

"Everyone says that, but no one seems to be able to tell me when. When will it get easier, Dad?"

"Abbey, the truth is, most couples have never done what you and Jed are doing," Mary started. "But I think the fact that you're doing it and you're making it work says something about your marriage. I don't know too many people who could juggle the responsibilities of raising a family together while living 500 miles apart."

"You're right. I just underestimated how hard it would be." Abbey closed her eyes at the delicious aroma of the homebaked cake on the counter. "Chocolate strawberry shortcake?"

"Lizzie made it."

"By herself?"

"Yeah. You want a piece?"

"Not until the girls come down."

"What are they doing?"

She took the seat opposite her father. "Blowing off steam so we can have a peaceful dinner, hopefully."

"When does Mrs. Wilburforce start?"

"On Monday."

"She's going to have her hands full," James said, grinning.

Hesitantly, Ellie crossed the entryway to the kitchen. She looked over at Abbey, her blue-green eyes teary with remorse and searching for forgiveness for her role in the fight with Liz. Abbey held out her hand to her and when Ellie made her way over, she hugged her, tenderly twirling a shiny blond curl around her finger as she pulled away.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" the fifth grader asked.

"What's wrong with your own room?"

"I'm afraid I'll wake up and there'll be a mouse on me."

"Mice want nothing to do with humans, Ellie." Abbey saw the doubt that troubled her as Ellie dipped her head. "Yeah, you can sleep with me. We'll make it a slumber party."

"Thanks!"

"Did you apologize to Lizzie?"

Ellie nodded. "She's still mad at me."

"She's going to be mad for a while."

"I suppose I should get used to the silent treatment. She called me a traitor for hiding in her closet with Zoey and said she wasn't going to talk to me anymore."

"She'll come around."

"Be patient, Ellie," James told her. "It may take a while if she's anything like her mother. Abigail once got mad at your Aunt Kate and didn't speak to her for a solid month."

Ellie dropped her jaw and turned to her mother. "What did she do?"

"I don't know, probably broke into my room like you and Zoey did."

"So that's where we get it from! I don't think it's right that we should be grounded when snooping is in our genes."

"Nice try, smarty pants." Abbey glared at her father. "What did I say about charming the girls with stories of my youth?"

"You're just lucky we haven't gotten to the saga of the teenage years yet."

Her face lit with enthusiasm, Ellie replied, "I wanna hear!"

"Aren't you in enough trouble?" Abbey asked pointedly. "Come on, help me set the table."

"But it's Lizzie's turn." Ellie noted her mother's sharp expression, her left brow menacingly raised, making her look even angrier than before. She quickly changed her tune. "I'll get the plates."

TBC