Another family's family problems
A/N
I wrote in the A/N in 4t's chapter 37 you should watch out for this Author's note. However, many things changed and now this A/N is just another simple A/N. Sorry if I confused you.
Here's chapter 38 for you!
xxx
The morning sky as grey and cloudy as her sleep-deprived mind, Alice stretches her hurting limbs and rolls her shoulders in a desperate attempt to ease the pain of sleeping in a sitting position.
Waking up with a snoring South European with swollen eyelids next to her reminded the Englishwoman of all the unpleasant thoughts she found herself confronted with last night. After remembering, she wasn't able to sit with the girl still leaning against her shoulder any longer. Alice carefully shifted and freed herself from the teenager and laid her back on the couch. It wasn't an easy task, but she didn't want to deny Lovina her sleep either.
To ensure that Wanker of a Spaniard daring to call himself a father did as he was told, Alice checks every inch of her property for a sign of him. Fortunately for him, the Englishwoman doesn't find hide nor hair of Carriedo.
The yard the only place left unchecked, Alice uses the opportunity of walking around the house as a way to wake up. She shivers in the morning air and tries to stand and marvel at the colourful sunrise for the sole reason to avoid thinking about a certain Wanker. Who is just an acquaintance of a friend of hers. A father lying to his daughter. A cursed Git. A two-tongued bastard.
Anger rises in her as not thinking about him doesn't work.
Alice shakes her head on her failed attempt to ignore her thoughts and quietly repeats she shut him out of her life. Not even a childhood rival worth remembering, he is nothing more than the acquaintance of a friend.
Soon, the Englishwoman begins to pluck some herbs and peppermint for fresh tea in her garden and wonders where she found that one recipe for the brew. "Must be in one of those gardening magazines" The blonde woman yawns and hopes it's not in the one Lovina borrowed when Carriedo asked… forced her to babysit Lovina for the second time.
Alice angrily crumbles some herbs in her fist and throws them away to pluck some others. Just a friend's acquaintance; but one which horribly annoys her.
Still, Alice feels like even this anger is wasted on the likes of him and searches for another way to distract her mind. Maybe following the recipe and trying to get the measurements right for once will help her keep her thoughts at bay.
When she returns to the house, the door closes just a bit too loudly behind her, apparently waking Lovina from her sleep.
The girl enters the kitchen shortly after the adult and Alice almost drops the herbs once more. "Goodness!" Lovina looks worse than she expected. Her slouched stature as well as her lifeless expression seem to flip a switch inside the Englishwoman she didn't know was there.
It's no longer only anger towards Carriedo. She feels a desire rising inside her to erase ever situation, every memory and even every person causing the girl in her care sorrow.
A strong desire to protect. Her angrily shaking hands balling to fists, Alice watches as Lovina shuffles from the door to the kitchen cupboards as if someone tied stones around her feet causing her to stumble over things that aren't even there.
Another emotion she isn't familiar with creeps their hands around Alice's heart, slowly tightening and a voice whispers «What if it was Amelia?»
What if it was Amelia?
What if it was her daughter?
How would she react?
A lout sound makes her return to reality as Lovina collides with the drawers but doesn't even curse.
What, if it was her Amelia.
But right now it is not Amelia. Right now it's LOVINA stumbling through her kitchen like a lifeless vessel.
The divorced woman is painfully aware of that fact. As well as she is aware of the realisation SHE might have caused similar pain to her own daughter. Similar experiences to what her childhood rival makes HIS daughter experience right now.
Swallowing the pain coming along with this thought, Alice gently grabs Lovina's arm. She leads her to sit on a chair instead of aimlessly trying to take out a coffee cup but forgetting the coffee.
Quietly sitting at the table, the teenager continues to stare blankly as the adult prepares Lovina's favourite beverage and finally brings it to sit down next to the girl. "Here." She places two cups of black coffee down, not bothering to prepare some tea or sugar for herself.
Today, she might as well share the bitter taste with Lovina.
xxx
Antonio stares at his reflection with horror.
Walking up and down all night long, worrying over both; the unknown future and past decisions reflects in his complexion. Starting with his mop of hair looking even worse than normal to his sleep-deprived grimace perfected with dark bags under his eyes, he looks downright horrible.
One could think Antonio; famous as a young adult for celebrating all night long and still greet all his hungover friends cheerfully the next morning would easily recover after a night of pacing through his house. His mirror reminded the man even he got older. As did Lovina. She wasn't the small child he took along to travel South and North Italy and eventually Spain.
Maybe, the Spaniard wonders, Alice was right. He probably really missed the right moment to tell Lovina.
He grabs his phone to stare at it as if it would magically display a missed call or a text message. Which is unlikely because he didn't leave it out of sight for more than two seconds since he left Alice's lawn. The stoic Englishwoman made her point clear he was not allowed to approach neither Lovina nor herself if he treasured his life. And, for once, reality weighted him down too strongly to let his optimism take over: Thinking either Lovina or Alice would contact him is just wishful thinking.
Still, he needs someone to talk to right this moment. But that someone isn't answering her phone either. Even if his friend didn't answer, right now he wouldn't even mind if Tim picked up his half-sister's phone instead.
Antonio turns from the mirror and leaves the bathroom to prepare a coffee and slouch down on his couch, wallowing in negative feelings.
He tries to call Emma over and over again and he will continue dialling the number until she finally answers. If anyone could help him, it would be her. He just wished Emma and Tim were here. Then, the Spaniard laments, both; Lovina and him would have another place to turn to in this bullshit situation.
Lovi knew the siblings since she was five; even though she doesn't know the two of them met her shortly after she was born. They know everything. And they supported him over the years. Even now, for their sake Emma invests her holiday to…
"...Antonio! How are you?" As soon as the clicking sound and Emma's merry voice indicate she finally picked up her phone, Antonio sits up straight and plasters a grin over his downcast expression. He pushes his worrisome thoughts to the back of his mind and pulls off his best «everything is all right» act.
In moments like these, the Spaniard kind of hates how he always masks his real mood. But he does it anyways. Just hearing her sunny voice, he doesn't want to spoil Emma's holiday with his troubles. –After all, maybe she returns earlier than expected and he could tell her then. In person.
"Emma! It feels like ages since I last heard your voice!" The Spaniard starts chattering happily, lying to himself about how he really feels. "Did Tim arrive in one piece?"
The woman chuckles. "Yes, I'm glad he did, even though you might have preferred it if he did not. –Though he continues complaining about the sun screen he needs to apply everyday." The two continue their conversation about Emma's sailing holiday around the South Italian islands.
The South Italian islands he heard a lot about. And one of the few places he hasn't been to with Lovina yet. "...Did you… find something?" Antonio finally asks and sighs as she states she didn't. They were his last resort. The last place they didn't look yet.
"I'm sorry Tonio, but still no sign."
"What a pity." Because the brunette was carefully trying to mask his worry, Antonio doesn't realize he sounds unnaturally cheerful when hearing the bad news. Emma, however, notices the contradiction and immediately inquires what happened. "Nothing." The Spaniard lies.
"Antonio." The woman stretches the word slowly then continues scolding: "We've been friends for ages so you should know better than giving excuses. Elaborate. Now." She forces him to spill the beans now.
The man sighs, knowing he can't escape her. Slowly, he starts to tell Emma the whole «Lovina's mum- case». An irritated huff in the background lets him know Tim is also listening in on his story.
Messing up both, timeline and reality with his feelings, he somehow manages to narrate the whole story of how Lovi started interrogating him about her mother. Insisted he told her no matter how he avoided the subject. And how Alice did the same. –Ah, yes, he met her again. How? Oh, he forgot to tell them about the whole babysitting-thing. Which is also why she went to Alice's place after she ran away. Where she is now. And when he saw her sitting there, it hurt so much and he wondered… "You're trailing off…" Tim reminds him to complete the story. Antonio tries and finally quiets down.
Emma interprets his silence and guesses he finished his story. "So…" The Belgian asks for clarification: "You told her you're not blood related. What else did you tell her?"
"I…" Antonio stutters. "I just told her I am not her father?"
"Allemachtig." Tim groans. "He's a worse idiot than I always thought." The half-siblings mutter among themselves for a bit. Most likely Emma scolding Tim who easily presses his point reminding her Antonio messed up.
Their debate seems to come to a timeout and the woman addresses Antonio again: "I do hope you plan on telling her the whole story as soon as possible?" The man in question remains quiet, unsure how he likes the idea. "Antonio!" Her voice increases in volume. "I can't believe it! You told her that much already. Don't deny her the rest!"
"But…!" The Spaniard splutters, suddenly confronted with confrontation. He doesn't like where this phone call is going. He called to have someone listen to him. "I can't just go and tell her I don't know where her family is."
He whines but Emma's voice is hard as iron. "You told her the first part of the truth. Go tell her the whole truth now." Antonio realizes he has nowhere to run now that even Emma seems to force him to speak about things he'd rather now.
"First I don't tell her we're not related and then I break to her I still have no clue where she comes from?! Impossible! She will hate me for the rest of my life!"
"Stop whining, idiot." It seems Tim seized the phone from his half-sister. Antonio flinches as the other man's familiar deep voice is laced with anger. "It's better if she only hates you for the rest of YOUR life. Would be worse if she hated you for the rest of HER life, right? You're older; you'll die first."
With a clacking sound, the phone call is finished. Antonio gapes at the phone, wondering if he just heard that right. However, for once he is somewhat thankful for the harsh way Tim usually treats him. Because today, the other man's interest in treating him coldly didn't surge from their distanced relationship but from serious concern over Lovina's well-being.
Devastated, Antonio sits down and allows the realisation just HOW MUCH pain he must have caused Lovina to sink in.
A short message follows the call: "I suppose you know what to do? After all it's not like she is all alone in this world."
Antonio puts the phone away with a sigh. He does not want to do that… But he knows he has to. And he also knows Emma's right. Lovina's life isn't as cruel as he made it out to be.
The cruel one is him. Not wanting to see Lovina leave his side once she learns the whole truth.
"Lo siento, Roma."
Antonio accepts the fact he messed up. And he knows he has to do his best to regain some of his daughter's trust. Yet before he can do that, he has wait and pray Alice will soon need his help or something and call him.
With a long sigh, the Spaniard places his phone in his back pocket and resigns himself for long, depressing weeks of waiting for that miraculous moment to happen. He might be an optimist, but the Englishwoman's icy voice and narrowed eyes yesterday showed him any interference on his part is strongly objected.
He knows she is determined to take care of everything her own way.
Not, because she simply reverted to her lone-wolf tendencies, but because she lost every little bit of trust she might have had in him.
Her words told him to «think about how to regain his daughter's trust». And her distant coldness nonverbally communicated that the same task applied to the Englishwoman. –The woman's words spoke about Lovina, but her cold eyes spoke about herself. If he wanted to get either of the women's trust back, he had to fight for it.
xxx
Not really paying attention to the story. Alice's eyes fly over the lines of black letters written on white paper. Apparently not even reading her favourite adventures helps her distract her mind. Instead, the Englishwoman registers every breath her guest inhales and exhales as if she were afraid the girl stopped breathing. Alice glances over the pages of JK Rowling's work at the near-death looking body. The brunette looks pale and her empty eyes stare at nothing in particular. Nothing reminds of the proud, rebellious figure the girl usually keeps up. The girl's appearance would frighten any child a lot more than Voldemort's.
The troubles Alice faces might differ from saving the world of Wizards and Muggles alike; jet the woman knows she shouldn't underestimate it either. No. Alice got herself involved with another family's family problem which, in the end, isn't really different from her own family troubles. Plus, taking care of Lovina forced the Englishwoman into contact with both, Amelia and the realisation she needs to DO something if she wants to see a change.
But as there is not much she could do right now, the divorced woman tries to re-focus on her reading once more. Her eyes fix the letters and slowly trace over them. Her thoughts wander beyond the book cover instead. Once more, Alice finds herself gazing at her friend's curled-up figure.
Seeing the girl like this hurts and makes the adult wish the cheeky teenager would jump up to overtake the kitchen and start preparing foods rather than refusing it. And she knows, to her, this is more than «somebody else's family business». This is a friend in pain.
"Lovina?" The distracted blonde places the book down again and slowly approaches the brunette and waits for the girl to notice her. She gently runs her fingers through the girl's locks, hoping to get a reaction from her. Lovina doesn't even blink at first. Alice continues caressing her nonetheless and the teenager seems to at least register the touch. She slowly shifts more to the side, gently leaning in to the touch and closes her eyes.
When she was younger, Amelia also loved it when her mother did this. "Lovina?" Alice whispers gently as she did to her daughter as well. For a few moments, the woman continues, hoping Lovina might finally break the silence and speak. But the only sounds meeting her ears is the slow breathing of her friend and the ticking of the clock.
Alice shifts her focus from the girl to the clock and suppresses a sigh. It's long past noon but Lovina wouldn't even look at the plate of food the Englishwoman prepared for her.
"You should eat something." She tries again but the girl slowly shakes her head. "Coffee?" Alice tries again. This time, Lovina shifts and turns to stare at the back of the couch. "Can I bring you anything else?" The girl shakes her head again, causing the unpleasant clenching around Alice's heart to increase once more.
Its long past noon already yet all Lovina ate or drank so far was a few sips of black coffee. The girl spent the hours blankly staring at nothing in particular, sitting or lying completely still and, worst of all, not speaking a single word.
If it were Amelia, she might know what to do. And if she didn't, she could always ask Matthew or Francis to help her out.
There is no way she would ever call the teenager's guardian. He might know what to do. Probably. However, she couldn't call the man, and, she had to admit, she also didn't want to. She hated the very thought to admit she needed his help. She hated the thought of hearing his voice, his accent, and his excuses. Yet most of all the blonde woman hated the fact she didn't WANT to call the brunette, even though she knew she had to, eventually.
Yet she doesn't want to. Wants to keep her distance at any cost.
xxx
Bored to death, Amelia stares out of the bus window.
She hates driving in busses like this. Driving by herself would be so much more fun, but she doesn't have a car she can highjack and escape to drive around with. Hence she had to enter the horrifying moving vessel of endless boredom.
That and the fact her earphones broke down made her day worse than it already was. Also, not giving a fuck about the other people in the bus and listening her music for everyone to hear isn't an opinion. The last time she tried the driver told her to turn it off unless she wanted to walk to her father's house instead.
Which she doesn't.
The blonde turns to stare outside again. The row houses passes by, one looking like a clone of the other. Amelia tries to distract her thought coming up with a theory they're living in a virtually programmed world and the houses weren't even real. –Which would make sense because all of them look like someone copy-pasted them on their lawn.
Instead, the girl ends up hallucinating she fell into a crack in time and is now cursed to drive along the same section of a street for the rest of her life.
A small girl with long silver hair opening a door to run outside, holding something that looks like a violin and an adult brunette chasing after her finally breaks the monotone rows of houses and the endless repetition.
Unless, Amelia continues imaging, they weren't even there; were nothing more than a trick of her mind.
"Music academy." The driver's bored voice announces the stop the girl remembers well and finally, the scenery changes. The huge school building comes into sight, marking the frustrating first third of Amelia's journey as covered. Two thirds left to go.
Yawning, the girl turns from the window to juggle her phone and thinks about ways to make Matthew talk.
The boy might be able to fool his father, but she won't fall for his brother's excuses.
xxx
Alice slowly withdraws her hand placed next to Lovina's brown hair and stands back up. Sitting here and staring won't change anything. Just as every attempt of hers trying to talk to the girl or get her to eat something didn't work. The Englishwoman stands still for a few more long moments before she sighs resigning and starts to collect the cooled down dish and coffee cups from the small table to bring them to the kitchen.
Once more, she searches through her cupboards hoping to find something Lovina might eat as her eyes stop to stare at the maple syrup she bought when she met Lovina at the shopping mall. The kids almost emptied the bottle the other night all of them were together. Lost in thought, the woman takes the bottle out and wrinkles her nose in displeasure. Seems some of the syrup was spilled and run down the maple leaf-shaped glass, leaving it sticky.
She takes a cloth to wipe the bottle clean and puts it back where she took it. Everyone was so relaxed Thursday night. Matthew spoiled them with his world-renowned pancakes; Amelia happily fought with Lovina in a way that almost seemed like friendly bickering and even Alice found herself laughing alongside Antonio at the stories of pranks the kids told each other, trying to nominate the top three pranks in the categories: «most hilarious», «worst fail» and «longest grounding after their cover got blown».
Alice shakes her head. It seems this was only the calm before the storm. A desperate attempt to forget the worries lying ahead of them; Antonio as well as Lovina skilfully distracting themselves from their nervousness. Her children got pulled along by the Spaniard's fake act of «the world is so perfect I brighten the surroundings with my simple presence». Lovina gladly took the chance of forgetting her worries as well. And even Alice had to admit she ignored the man's fake-laughter and joined the game of playing «happy friend's gathering» rather than keeping up her usual distance to her childhood rival. Or confront him with harsh reality and tell him to stop faking.
After all, he managed what she couldn't once more: He made Amelia comfortably smile and laugh in the Englishwoman's presence. And the mother knows she would most likely trade everything for such moments.
Even if it meant to ignore the disturbed feelings of both; a friend and a rival.
Alice slowly closes the cupboard and stares at it for some time. She was confronted with different situations and feelings as she hasn't been for months or not even years, to be honest. Of course, living with Amelia made certain she got a decent confrontation with anger and complaints, but not confusing feelings such as nervousness, doubt or even deep hurt.
At least that's how she experienced living with Amelia after her divorce. Who knows how the girl felt during that time?
Maybe it's because not being able to help Lovina bothers her or, just maybe, it's the nagging feeling of regret about keeping a distance to her daughter which makes the Englishwoman take out her phone. Something she never did before, but somehow she realized inquiring how the girl is doing is something she should do more frequently from now on. Something she wants to do more frequently.
She quickly dials the number she knows by heart and waits for Amelia to answer.
"Who are you and how did you steal my mother's phone?" To said mother's surprise, the accusation sounds honestly displeased and protective.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but it IS me" Without wanting to, Alice lashes out the same way she usually would whenever talking to Amelia and immediately feels sorry she did.
"Oh. Hi..." Alice can't clearly tell whether the teenager is glad she isn't talking to a thief or annoyed to hear her mother's voice instead. Most likely both, the adult figures. "Wait a sec. You called me? YOU called ME? YOU?" Now the girl sounds obviously annoyed as she fakes her surprise.
"Amelia, please." Alice rolls her eyes as a reaction to the bitter undertone in the girl's voice but reminds herself she didn't make the call to start another fight. The Englishwoman tries talking with a softer voice as she continues: "It's weird if you try to be sarcastic. That's my job. While you're the family's optimist." Which is true and, speaking the words, memories make the mother smile.
Apparently, Amelia heard the warmth in her voice and sounds seriously confused as she asks why her mother would call her. "Something's definitely wrong with you today." She adds, doubting.
"Well, it's been some time since you called. Hence I wanted to ask how things are going with Matthew." Alice remembers and does her best to ignore her daughter's last remark.
A long silence follows. Then a sigh. The Englishwoman recognizes the discouraged sound in Amelia's voice: "I'm heading over to Dad's place right now to grill Mattie. He acts as if nothing happened but refuses to leave the house this weekend saying he just started reading a very interesting book. I think hat's just plain bullshit." Alice hums in agreement, understanding the girl's doubt. "I called Dad and he said Mattie behaves the same as he always does. If anything, he is more quiet than usual."
Alice nods, forgetting Amelia can't see her. "Which is equal to not talking at all." She sighs. Amelia agrees and immediately starts talking, only stopping to gasp a breath and then continue talking. Alice patiently listens to her daughter's many worries and doubts until the girl feels at ease and finishes the call.
Lost in thought, Alice walks back to the living room and gazes at the girl curled up on her couch. She traces the lines of her brown locks with her eyes with sadness. They look so similar to Carriedo's.
Amelia has her family she can call. As for Lovina… She only has Carriedo. But calling him isn't an option for the girl.
Even so Alice knows she has to call him.
She couldn't let Lovina know though. Yes, she cared for the girl and Lovina seemed to know. Yet the two of them only became friends some weeks ago and she doesn't know the girl as well. She is glad Lovina feels save in her presence, but just sitting and waiting isn't her thing. Alice wants to DO something for Lovina. But everything she tried to ease the girl's pain so far didn't work. The teenager still refuses any kind of food and conversation. She was relieved to find the girl at least react to soft, gentle touches.
Still, in the end the person who knows best how to comfort someone is their parent. Biological or not.
Lost in thought about another family's family problems, Alice almost drops her suddenly buzzing phone and, out of habit, answers the call without reading the caller's ID.
xxx
After the call with Emma, Antonio started marching back and forth again. Walking around in circles, trying to understand and put into words what he had missed the years before, he kept on talking to himself for what feels like ages but might have only been a few minutes.
He needs to process his thoughts. What had happened; what had gone wrong the last sixteen years.
Once more he dials the number he knows by heart. Emma answers the phone and Antonio immediately justifies himself: "I know you told me to speak with Lovina as soon as possible. But she doesn't want to see me right now." He stops himself before he starts rambling about these circumstances. "And Alice won't let me go near her anyways."
The person at the other end coughs. Antonio waits as if hoping Emma might say something. However, no answer follows and the Spaniard takes it as an encouragement to continue the results of his musing.
"I am really a horrible father, right? I mean, of course I wanted to protect Lovina, but is that what she wanted? And it seems I don't have a feeling for the right time to talk about important things. –Messed that up in the past as well… And yet again the same happens with Lovina. But, there just is no time right to tell the baby you raised you don't know their parents?" He laments. "I should have just told her as soon as I could 'cause there is no «right moment» for things like that."
A snort answers him.
"I was an Idiot, wasn't I?" Antonio sighs and waits for an answer. The other person; maybe it's actually Tim; doesn't answer... He can't tell which sibling it is because they don't say anything. "I mean... I just wanted to protect her! But... In the end I was just a selfish father."
The listener hums in agreement.
Desperately, the man tries to find the words he'd need to convey his thoughts. Many come to his mind and he knows all of them are right: "Father..." Antonio snorts sarcastically. "Call me idiota, imbécil, tonto or even boludo… majadero or burro; or all at once. I guess the term «Father» doesn't fit me after all." He finally sighs. And finally, he finds the description he is looking for: "I'm just a bloody Wanker"
"Very much so." The listener states drily and ends the call sooner than Antonio can recognize the voice, the accent… and put the pieces together.
"Alice?!" the Spaniard stares at the silent phone in his hand, the Englishwoman's name displayed on the screen.
xxx
A/N
Translations:
Spanish:
idiota, imbécil, tonto, boludo, majadero, burro = Idiot
Lo siento = I'm sorry
Dutch:
Allemachtig = Holy shit
(I'm seriously shocked (read: amazed) by the amount of multilingual swearwords one finds on the net…)
xxx
A/N
Reviews:
Thanks for the reviews! Kramburg, you made my day! Or rather you made my week; twice!
I am curious what everybody else thinks too ^^ I'd be glad if you share your thoughts and give feedback. ;) I want to become a better writer and make sure my stories make sense and are interesting.
xxx
Just me:
I wrote a super monster chapter and ended up splitting it in two… Which means next week I'll definitively update on time! (for once…) Yay!
Take care of yourselves and I hope there's good weather at your place. (I heard next week will be very rainy over here :/ Shit happens.)
-Himawari