'Mother, really, what are we doing? This is all very silly.'
'Poppy, hush. There are things I wish you each to have and now is the time for giving them,' Susan responded unabashedly.
'Posh, Mother,' Poppy rebelled. 'That's right, posh. There has got to be something else. Giving everything away to us now? I think not. That's just folly, an excuse to get us together. What's the real matter?'
'I'd not ask,' commented Mari, nudging her sister with her elbow, 'or you might be ejected from the will for love of Hal.' Mari had, as usual, assumer the feelings of her idol, Poppy, against her mother's actions and treatment of their elder sister. And Poppy, now knowing the thrill of forbidden love, took justified side toward the cause of her sister and begrudged her mother her loss.
'The real matter is,' Susan stated clearly, either not having heard or pretending not to have heard her youngest daughter's comment, 'I feel bogged down in a world of clutter. All these great things we have which filled our old house nicely clutter the cottage. I have no use for them, so I am giving them to you.'
'Ah, but how does that serve to clear the house from clutter as five of the eight of us are still living at home?' Poppy provoked her.
'I give these things to those five of the seven of you now so that when you are grown and leave the house you may know what you have a right to.'
'But why not simply tell us what is ours when the time comes?' asked Mari, following Poppy's lead.
'And what will you be left with when we are all gone?' put in Poppy mischievously.
'Oh, hush, girls, and never mind that. Can't a mother give her children gifts?'
'Not as a bribe,' Mari mentioned aside to Poppy.
'Mother, I'm glad of your gifts, though others may not be. Let us proceed,' Bella brownnosed in her usual manner.
'Very well. We shall go by age,' Susan began. 'Peony, the chest over there, my grandmother's settee, and a set of China were to be your wedding gifts. I am sorry that things took a turn which prevented these gifts from you. The former two I can give now to remedy that, and for the latter there is money set aside. Also, Peony, there is a necklace here,' and she held it out to her and dropped it into her palm.
Susan rushed about the kitchen like a madwoman preparing for tea. A figure in her way caused her almost to spill her scalding water. 'Tim! You've scared me half to death! Wait in the next room, would you? I've so much to do here.'
'I need a word, Sue,' Tim replied, following her around the room.
'Now? Tim, can't it wait? We've company coming and I want everything to be perfect,' and she rushed off the pull the seedcakes from the oven.
'No, now, Sue. It won't take a minute.'
'Fine, then, what is it?' Susan paused her scurry and wiped her hands on her frock.
'I've something for you here,' and he held out a tiny package. A bit of unwrapping revealed a little white gem accented by a tinier ruby on a chain of gold.
'What is this?' Susan exclaimed.
'To commemorate the occasion of our first child,' Tim explained, 'and. . . because I love you.' Susan beamed at her husband, having completely forgotten her rush.
'Your father. . . You father gave it to me to celebrate our first news of you. . .' she trailed off in memory but quickly snapped herself back.
'Tim,' she addressed her eldest son. She indicated a few inconsequential items of furniture before addressing the more important item. 'Your father left behind quite numerous things when he went and, looking through them, I've picked something specific out for each of you boys. The rest you may divide amongst yourselves as you see fit. Or something for Merimon, perhaps. In any case, Tim, there's a humidor that's been passed down in the family by tradition to the eldest son. It's usually a wedding gift as it was for you father, but, well. . . I'll give it now in any case. It's behind you on the table.' Tim turned and fingered the antique humidor, carefully examining its carvings.
'Tim, son, there's something you ought to have now you've a home to keep it in and a wife to stand beside it,' Tim's father, also Tim as every eldest Boffin boy, broached. 'This humidor has belonged to every Tilman all the way back to my grandfather's grandfather. Now it's yours. Congratulations on your victory --' he nudged his son proudly '--and, Susan, welcome to the family. I'm sure you'll make my son a worthy wife.'
'Thank you, Mother,' Tim smiled to her, turning from his gift.
Susan started and then nodded quickly as if to say, 'It's nothing.' Then she breathed deeply for a moment and continued. 'Poppy, my dear,' and she turned to the girl. 'Numerous furnishings are there in that corner for you when you've a home of your own: the Whitfoot family's dining set, your grandmother Boffin's table linens, candlesticks and other such things. And then there are these,' and she removed from the table next to her a set of stunning sapphire earrings. 'I remember my mother when I was a child: she was so very lovely and so full of life. You remind me of her in so many ways, Poppy, not only in physical resemblance, but in your wit and spunk and zest for life. These were the earrings my father gave her at their wedding. They were meant for parties and special occasions, but she wore them everyday. Oh, she received many a disdainful glance at the market and there was some little talk of her being uppity, but she didn't care. She loved these earrings as she loved my father. She told me she would never take them off, and she never did. . . until the day she died and then gave them to me.'
Poppy took the jewels placidly, not seeing the value in a fuss. 'Put them on, won't you?' her mother entreated. With a heavy sigh and a roll of her eyes, she did as she was bidden, and Susan was suddenly a small child again, looking up at her mother from where she clung amidst her skirts.
'Hal,' she whispered with smiling eyes still focused on Poppy. 'Your various pieces are grouped over there,' and she pointed across the room, at last managing to drag her gaze away from her middle daughter. 'I doubt you care to hear me explain the significance of each of them. Among them, however, is the pipe you are to receive at your coming of age. Besides that,' she continued, 'I know you've developed quite the palate for spirits. It's not something I'm sure I completely approve of, but, nevertheless, I've something to advance it. Your father had quite the collection of brandy, I'm sure you know, and, so long as you promise to be responsible with it, it's yours.' A smile was growing on Hal's face. 'Now, it's a collection, mind you, for special occasions. The bottles start at your father's coming of age and tell almost the story of his life from then on. He didn't drink them very often, when each of you were born, at weddings, engagements, special times, like I said. As a prominent businessman he'd bring out the brandy for important dignitaries and clients, as well. I see great potential in you, Hal, and I hope you have the same luck. I think you will. . . with a good wife behind you.'
'Thank you, Mother! Thank you!' Hal burst out, barely able to contain himself. 'I'll take care of it, I promise! I'll keep and cherish it and add to it; I will! You'll be proud!'
Susan smiled to see his naïve enthusiasm, glad not to see it fade. 'I'm sure you will,' she assured him before moving on. 'Darling Bella,' she doted. 'There are some trinkets and myriad furnishings for you as well, my bedroom set and the good china included. But mainly, for you, I've a locket. You're growing up, and quickly. You'll have your first beau soon. My first beau gave me this.'
Susan hid just outside the door, eavesdropping, barely able to keep silent in her excitement. 'I'm sure you know there's a party tomorrow. Everyone's going. I assume you are as well,' Dandy Grubb lead into his topic. 'I. . . was hoping. . . I wondered if I might. . . accompany. . . your daughter. . . Susan. . . to the party.'
Dandy Grubb was visibly shaking in his boots before a younger Will Whitfoot, but he stuck out the elder's piercing gaze with courage. Moment after moment of glaring. Finally the answer: 'No.'
Dandy was taken aback. He'd been nervous, yes, but he'd never actually expected a no. He only stood slack-jawed, groping for words. Behind the door, Susan stood in the same manner. 'Unless--' Hope returned and the young hobbits' mouths snapped shut. '--you stay for dinner,' and Will smiled at the boy, amused by his cruel joke, but kept from laughing. . . at least to his face. Will moved aside to let the stunned boy enter, and in response he received only an insecure nod.
A moment later Dandy was standing in the front room alone -- Will had been called off by a problem with one of the younger children -- but not for long. Almost the moment her father was gone, Lily sprung out from her hiding place and ran over to Dandy. She was nearly squealing with delight. 'I'm so happy, Dandy. What did I tell you? Oh, I'm in the clouds!' she exclaimed to him.
Dandy smiled weakly at him, still shaken by his near rejection. 'I'm very glad, too, Susan,' he responded and reached into his pocket. 'And now that I've spoken to your father,' he pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle as he spoke, 'you can wear this.' Susan opened the bundle inquisitively and a bit eagerly when he gave it to her. A round locket of tarnished gold hung from a matching chain before her and she gasped with excitement. A click of the latch and it opened and there was Dandy smiling back at her. 'It was my sister's. She gave it to me for you,' he explained. 'Sorry about the condition, but I didn't have time to polish it.'
'Oh, Dandy, I love it!' Susan gushed. 'It's better tarnished; it really is. I wouldn't have it any other way.'
'I could clean it for tomorrow if you--'
'No! No, it's perfect.'
'Just promise me you won't polish it.'
'I wouldn't think of it, Mother. Thank you,' Bella said taking the locket and fastening it about her neck.
Susan then turned to Tom, still half in her reverie. 'My dear Tom,' she smiled. 'My little boy. But not such a little boy anymore, eh? Growing into a fine young man.' She paused to search his features for memories. 'I'll just get to the point then with you. I see you're jumping nearly out of your skin for anticipation. Your father's pipe. On the table over there.' She gestured. 'It was his favorite thing after a hard days' work to come home to a good dinner and a long smoke. You were young when her went, are young now after these long years. You barely got a chance to know him. I regret that every day. A boy needs his father.' She paused and cast her eyes to the ground. 'I hope,' she said after a minute or so, 'that you will remember him through this.'
A silence filled the room and no one dared speak for a moment for the potency of the words. Then a whispered, 'Thank you, Mother,' floated through the air.
Another minute of pungent silence and then Susan continued on her quest. 'Marigold,' she intoned. 'Little Mari. My youngest. My baby. My heart.' She smiled sadly. 'Along with the items in the sitting room, this,' and she removed the object from the table beside her, 'is for you.' Mari took it. 'It is a music box,' Susan stated, 'which used to sing me to sleep at night. My mother was always very busy with all of the children at bedtime and didn't have the time to sing to each of us individually, so when I grew older, she had to forgo her time with me to put the younger children to sleep. Because she knew how very much I liked to be sung to sleep, she bought me this as a present. The tune is the exact one she always used to sing and the one I sang to each of you in turn, but the words have been forgotten. Maybe one day you will run across some in one of those books of yours that fit.' Susan said almost wistfully.
Mari opened the box and a light tune danced through the air as if on a breeze as the gold plated gears turned and clicked and danced brightly along with it. 'I remember,' she told her mother proudly, her tongue losing its bite for the moment. 'I will not forget.'
Hours later, after the other children had scattered and the sun had set, Bella approached her Mother. 'What of the ring?' she asked in a low, sort of cynical tone.
'The ring is where it ought be.'
'That ring was to be mine, Mother,' Bella protested. 'You told me so long ago. You promised. Your wedding ring was to be mine.'
'Do not fret, my Bella. You got your fair share.'
'But not the ring!'
'The ring is not for you, my dear.'
'Then who? Who of all of them have stuck by you always, not rebelled, never challenged, never questioned? Who has been the perfect child? Peony? Peony with her abandonment of you as soon as she got a family of her own? Or Tom with his constant embarrassing shenanigans? Or maybe Poppy or Mari with their brazen contrariness?'
'You have been a wonderful child to have, my Bella, dear. You've been a blessing.'
'Then why, Mother, would you take this from me?!'
'I owed it to your sister, Bella,' Susan responded quietly, simply. 'I owed it to Lily.'
Little did either of them know that down the long road to Bag End, Lily too was fighting over possession.
A/N: So? Yeah. Long. That would be one reason it was a bitch to write. Another would be the bazillion characters, some of whom we've never seen before and I had to develop right then and there. Yet another would be that I'm a little OCD so accuracy was key. Can't use Scotch because it's specifically made in Scotland. Is there a Scotland in Middle Earth? No. Still another reason is I had to come up with something for her to give each of her children. And then I had to come up with a back story for it and a reason why she would give it to that child. If you ask me, she was too darn fertile. Geez. Well, I hope it was worth it. I tried to give you a little insight into Susan's life and why she is who she is and does what she does through the flashbacks and her remembrances to the others. I love flashbacks. Yay! Also there is some foreshadowing if you can guess it. This is an exceedingly long author's note. But it is an exceedingly long chapter. For me at least. In any case, I shall stop now. Please review!