The call came from Murray in the early hours of the first Saturday in October. With the aid of morphine, Lawrence Abernathy had been allowed to slip quietly from the world he had long terrorized.

Charles took the call as Elsie attended to the babies, the whole household jarred from sleep by the ringing of the telephone.

"Hello?...Good morning, Mr. Murray...No, no. It's fine…I see…You've got to be kidding...Fine…No, it's fine. Just let me get something to write with…okay….418. Got it…is it something we can do over the telephone? ...Very good…. He what? ...No he didn't. Tell me he didn't…No. She hadn't a clue...Right…So she only has to sign it in front of a witness?..How much?...Dear God…I know…Yes, of course…You are kind to call, Mr. Murray…right. Condolences aren't exactly called for…I will give her your regards…goodbye." Charles closed his eyes tightly, feeling a fatigue that only dread can inspire.

"He's dead?" Livy bouncing on her shoulder, Elsie made her way towards the telephone table just outside the kitchen, searching her husband's lamp lit face for confirmation.

He nodded his head, letting out a deep sigh. "Three hours ago. In his sleep."

Elsie looked away, her gaze unfocused as she stared in the direction of the sitting room. "If ever there was an injustice."

"Oh, it gets better. You're his only living relative. Guess who is responsible for determining what happens to his remains?"

She stopped bouncing the baby, her face drawn up in a grimace. "Are you kidding? Tell me you are kidding me."

"I'm not. Murray gave me a number to call. Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Have him cremated..."

"You bloody well will not! He can rot in a pauper's grave."

Isobel suddenly appeared at the foot of the stairs. "Is everything alright?"

Charles shook his head. "Lawrence is dead and we have to determine what to do with his remains."

"You can't be serious?"

Elsie gave her friend an joyless and exasperated smile. "Quite serious. He won't leave me alone even in death."

Charles glanced at Isobel, nodding in the direction of the baby with a pleading look on his face.

"Here, Elsie. Let me take Miss Prissy Poo into the kitchen with me and I'll put on the kettle. You and Charles can have a moment…"

Kissing Olivia's head, she relinquished the baby to Isobel's open arms.

"I know it's cold, but why don't we pull on our Wellies and coats and step outside to talk?" Charles wrapped his arm around Elsie's shoulder, gently ushering her towards the door.

"Jesus. It must be bad if you don't want me to be in the house when you tell me."

He squeezed her shoulder, leaning over and kissing her head as they reached the hall tree near the front door. "The brisk air will wake us up and make it easier to think and make decisions, love."

Elsie nodded, her stomach twisting into knots as she pulled on her dark green coat.


"No. No. NO. NOOOOOOO!" Elsie lifted her hands over her head, alternating opening and closing her fists as Charles' new set in. "Son of a bitch!"

Grateful that the only ears that might hear his wife's outburst belonged to a few four legged creatures in a distant pasture, Charles let her have her outburst before offering, "I'm sorry. I know it is the last thing you wanted to have to deal with..."

"Deal with?! I don't want it! I won't deal with it. Tell him no. Tell Murray to burn it or bury it or…God, I don't know…to dump it in the bloody ocean!"

"I wish we could. I wish it was that simple, honey, but we will have to make decisions…"

"Goddammit!" Covering her face with her hands, she sunk into a crouched position. "I ran from it. All those years I ran from it, but in the end it didn't matter. He still got his way."

Charles moved to stand near her, his large hand coming to rest on top of her head as his fingers began to massage her scalp. "He didn't get his way. You aren't married to Joe and you aren't helping run his empire."

"But he left me the empire, Charles. He knew it was the last thing in the world I wanted and yet he left me the whole sodding mess." She startled her husband by rising abruptly to her feet and running back into the house.

"Honey?"

Charles found her in their bedroom, furiously pulling off her nightgown before throwing on one of his old vests, her overalls, and an old plaid shirt. Slipping back into her wellies, she stopped briefly to pull something from the top drawer of their bureau before brushing past her husband. "I need to be alone. I pumped last night so you can just heat up what is in the two bottles on the top shelf if the girls get hungry."

"Where are you going?"

"To the studio."

"Elsie?" Charles called after her to which he only received the wave of the back of her hand, her auburn curls flying as she headed towards the farm.


Her easel and all of her supplies gathered under a drape on the far side of the room, Elsie stood in the middle of the empty space which was lit by only a free standing utility light, realizing there was no way she would be able to put brush to canvas in her state. Looking around the walls on which peculiar shadows were cast, she took a deep breath as she pushed her hand in to the right front pocket which held the letter she had hastily retrieved from the bureau. Heading in the direction of the caged bulb which was clamped onto a shelving unit holding various cans of red, black and white paint, she bit her bottom lip as she ripped open the end of the envelope, her heart beating rapidly as she fished the folded paper from within.

A chill ran through her as she immediately recognized Lawrence's sharp, slanted hand; a scrawl that seemed to embody the cold, unfeeling man from whom it had flowed.

Elsie,

I have no doubt that you know of my illness. I instructed my lawyer to contact your Mr. Murray to inform you of my condition. I also asked that he convey to you my wish to see you before this disease takes my life. Having received no communication from you as of yet, I send this letter as a plea.

I know you feel you owe me nothing, but I hope you can find it within yourself to pay me a visit before it is too late. No matter how you feel about certain things I have done or crimes you are convinced I have perpetrated, the fact remains that you are my blood.

Your mother and I were the only surviving siblings of a family of ten children. Did she ever tell you that? We had a younger brother who lived to the age of four, but the others all failed to thrive beyond infancy. She lived because I saw to it that she did. I fed her and dressed her and made sure a blanket was pulled over her every day of our childhood. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me. I am certain she never told you that. And how did she repay me? By marrying your useless father at the age of fifteen.

She was barely seventeen when she had you and I was ready to write her off as a lost cause until the day she brought you to my house when you were not quite four years old. She was heavily pregnant with your sister and your father's family's farm was failing so she had come begging for money. I was contemplating shutting the door in her face when she suddenly shoved you in front of her and said, "Do it, Elsie. Sing for Uncle Lawrence."

You stared up at me with those big blue eyes- the eyes of my sister-and began to sing a popular song of the day. I wonder if you still remember it- "Pretty Baby"? I tried to stop you, but you stomped your foot and said you weren't finished. I knew then that you had fire, spirit and gumption. It was for you that I gave your mother money that day and every week until your father's death.

The life I led and the businesses I built- they were for you, Elsie. I wanted to leave a legacy for you. My plan was for Joe to be a guiding partner to you who could run my businesses in a manner that would allow you to live a life of luxury and without want. We make decisions and relationships in this life that don't go as planned. I know you have contempt for some of my choices and the way in which some of my money was made and I know you will never forgive me for letting Joe use Becky as he did while you were away at school, but it isn't as if she understood what was happening to her. I think I could have persuaded you to understand this had it not been for your Uncle Matthew. Joe was off his head on dope and I only found out what he was doing just before your mother died. I did stop it then. If I had it to do over again, I would do so many things differently, but as I said, we all make decisions that don't go as planned.

I also didn't foresee the tremendous grasp alcohol and dope would grow to have on Joe, but by the time I did, it was too late. He knew too much and we were in too deep together. I never gave up hope that you would change your mind and come home to help him recover and become more like the young man we both once knew.

I want you to know that I drew up my will just after your mother died. After all these years and all the harsh words we have exchanged, I have never altered it. You are my soul heir.

My lawyer has taken care of tying up the loose ends of my various business ventures and my assets have been liquidated so that everything has been placed into an account which will revert to you upon my death. It is yours to do with as you wish. May it bring you the happiness and contentment I never managed to find.

I had a visitor not long after I was brought here- a young woman who knows the man you married. She told me you were with child. I have tried to find out about the baby which you have most certainly given birth to since, but alas, have been unable to secure any information regarding the sex, name or even the child's birthday.

So here is my plea: please find it within your heart to let me look into those big blue eyes once more. I would like to make amends before it is too late and I would like to know of your child- a child that has my blood.

Lawrence

Elsie's eyes burned and her vision was blurred as she stared at the now tear-smudged words on the pages in her hands. Shaking uncontrollably, she let the papers fall the floor as she let out a primal scream. Reaching for the nearest item at hand, she grabbed a small can of the black paint that had been used on the cottage's trim and hurled it at the blank wall on her right, a slash of veneer hitting the wall and floor as she let out another gut-wrenching wail.

"YOUR BLOOD? YOU CARE SO MUCH ABOUT YOUR BLOOD YOU LET THEM...YOU LET THEM, YOU BLOODY COWARD! YOU KNEW! YOU KNEW! YOU KNEW AND YOU DID NOTHING TO STOP IT!"

Grabbing another can, this one a large container of bright red, she held the receptacle by its handle, her hands jarring with pain as she stepped up to the wall and beat the can against the wall over and over again until a sudden pop of the lid sent a startling hemorrhage of paint over the white wooden slats, as well as her clothes.

Ripping the remaining two cans of white wash from the middle shelf, Elsie pulled a screwdriver from a small bucket on the top shelf, furiously prying the lids off within seconds, her hands plunged into the freezing viscous liquid which she proceeded to fling at the dripping black and red splashes already covering a great deal of the barn's south wall.

Crying, swearing, and screaming, she was unaware of her husband stepping into the barn, his steps halting as he took in the paint riddled wall and his wife.

"YOU DID IT FOR ME? YOU DID NOTHING FOR ME! YOU DID NOTHING! NOTHING! YOU DIDN'T DESERVE HAPPINESS, YOU BASTARD! FUCK YOU, LAWRENCE! FUCK YOU!"

Throwing two last handfuls of paint, her chest heaved from her effort as well as her emotional display and she was forced to brace herself with her arms in order to keep from falling against the wall and being completely covered in paint.

"Elsie."

Feeling her husband's large arms wrap around her middle, she collapsed, her head hanging and her paint drenched hands grasped his forearms as she sobbed, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"

Charles pulled her tighter against him, his voice low as he comforted her. "You have nothing for which to be sorry, honey. Not a single thing."

She shook her head as she lifted it to take in the spectacle she had created. "Oh my God. I can't believe…"

"What? So you spilled a little paint."

Elsie began to laugh through her tears as she turned in his arms to face him. "Only you could make me laugh at a time like this. God, Charles, I've gotten it all over you, too."

"I'll live. Are you alright?"

She nodded, brushing the back of her arm across her eyes.

"I want to talk if you want to, but right now let's go out of here and try to clean you up at the pump."

Nodding, she allowed him to take her hand and lead her from the barn out to the old water well near the livestock barn.

Spotting Mr. Mason's concerned face peering out from the side of the large structure, Charles offered their friend a warm smile, nodding and shaking his head to suggest that everything was alright. His strong hand manipulating the lever, bitterly cold water soon flowed freely from the spout under which he plunged both of their hand; his tender ministrations ridding both of them of the thick white paint.

She sniffled, her breaths still slightly staggered as she looked up to find his face deep in concentration on the task literally at hand. "I feel like a little girl. You'll do this for the babies one day after they make mud pies."

"An opportunity I am quite looking forward to, Mrs. Carson."

"God! My rings! Oh…."

"They will be fine. I'll take a tooth brush to them later."

A few quiet moments passed during which the totality of the morning's events once again struck her in the chest. "Fuck."

The word was whispered, but he still flinched in surprise at her employment of it.

"I'm sorry."

"If you say that one more time, I'll wash your mouth out with soap."

Elsie looked at him in surprise.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to hear you utter that phrase again today. A lifetime of that man's inhumanity has come to a head this morning and you have every right to be as angry or as sad as you wish. Swear, scream, and spit, but don't apologize."

Nodding and managing a small smile, she agreed. "I won't."

Quite satisfied with the amount of paint he had been able to remove as they suffered the frigid temperature of the water, Charles used the loose, paint free portion of Elsie's shirt tails to dry both their hands. "What do you want to do? Do you need more time alone?"

She shook her head, rubbing her hands over and between his in an attempt to warm their numb fingers. "I want my babies, but I need a bath before I can love on them."

Letting out a sigh of relief, he pulled her to him and kissed herr temple. "Very good."

They were passing Elsie's studio when she suddenly darted inside, returning quickly with two slightly mussed sheets of paper which she placed in his hands. "This came the morning of my birthday."

Looking at the bottom of the second sheet, he let out a sigh as he read the signature. "Not exactly a birthday greeting I take it?"

She gave a mirthless chuckle. "Hardly. You can read it while I bathe."


Sitting on the vanity seat just inside the doorway, Charles read over Lawrence's letter as Elsie watched on from her reclined position in the bathtub. Lowering the pages, he looked over at his wife's expectant face. "What a coward."

Elsie swallowed hard as she nodded in agreement.

"Blaming it all on Joe's drinking and doping, not to mention insisting he did it all for you. He was a greedy son of a bitch without morals or scruples and he damn well didn't write this letter for you, honey. He only wrote it to make himself feel better. Well, you know what? Fuck you, Lawrence Abernathy and I hope you rot in hell."

"Thank you."

"For what?" Charles laid the letter on the side of the sink before crossing over and lowering himself to onto the edge of the tub. "Why are you thanking me?"

"For being on my side."

"I'm always on your side. You know that."

Elsie took his hand in hers. "I know, but I want you to know how very much it means to me and how much I appreciate it."

"No one else's side I rather be on." He lifted her wet hand to his mouth for a kiss. "How do you feel?"

"A little better, although I am still angry as hell about the money."

"I know. I've been giving that some thought." His wife pulling the sink's plug and making a move to stand, Charles offered her a towel as he continued, "While I know you hate the idea of using any of his money, I think he would equally hate the idea of you using it to help others while also securing our future."

Elsie took his proffered hand a she stepped onto the rug as she dried her limbs and torso as she contemplated his words. "Do you have some ideas?"

"I do. I think some of it should be invested for the girls' educations and depending on how you feel about it, I would like to approach Geneva about buying Meadow View. I don't see us leaving Halifax anytime soon, do you?"

"I don't ever want leave here."

'And I wouldn't want anything to change. Bill would continue to farm and live freely in the small cottage, but we would own the land and the buildings if she is willing to sell."

A tear escaped the corner of Elsie's eye. "Our very own home."

He smiled, "Yes, but that would only involve a small portion of the money based on what Murray estimates Lawrence was worth. I understand your reticence in using it, but it is there and it could be used to help others. Maybe some of it could be given to Becky's hospital? Maybe some to the local? Isobel and Richard could guide you in that."

"Us. What's mine is yours."

"Alright, well then, guide us. What do you think?"

Now clad in a warm robe, Elsie wrapped her arms around Charles. "I think it is a wonderful start, but there is something else I feel very strongly about."

"What's that?"

Enjoying the feel of her husband's hands rubbing up and down her back, she rested the side of her face against his chest, closing her eyes as she offered, "A safe place for women. Maybe a home for those who have been abused or attacked, as well as their children. Oh, and I want to give something to the London in memory of Matthew and in honor of Isobel. Is there enough money to do that?"

"Murray mentioned as much as three hundred thousand pounds."

"Jesus."

Charles leaned back. "Quite a bit of good could come from such a sum."

Smiling up at her husband, Elsie tightened her hold around his middle as she whispered, "Let's do it. Let's do whatever we can."


Their talk and the hot bath having given Elsie a new lease on the day, she was all smiles as she entered to find a gummy grin on Poppy's face as she snuggled in Beryl's arms while Isobel gently bounced a drowsy Livy on her shoulder.

"Have they been good girls?" She leaned over and kissed Livy's plump, soft cheek. "Sleepy bird." Crossing to Beryl, her heart swelled as Penelope stretched her little arms towards her mummy. Letting the baby grasp her finger, she leaned down and kissed the little fat hand of her daughter. "Oh, my goodness! Hello, angel girl. Have you been stealing all of Auntie Bee's sugar?"

"Auntie Bee could never run out of sugar for her little chicks."

Elsie gently swept the fingers of her other hand through the baby's curling mop of hair before turning to Isobel. "I shouldn't have just dumped them on you…"

"Nonsense. We were fine. They have both had a bottle and a bath which seemed to invigorate Miss P, while her sister is quite sleepy. I think we will rock-a-bye in the nursery if that is alright with you?"

Squeezing Isobel's arm gently, she smiled. "Why don't I take her? I'll see if she'll nurse a little and go down."

"Very good idea. Bless her, she's so tired, but is fighting it to beat the band."

Livy transferred into her arms, Elsie stopped briefly in the bedroom, sticking her head into the lavatory where her husband had just stepped out of the shower. "I'm going to try to get this wee one to sleep. Pop is having a big time in the kitchen with Beryl and Isobel. Anything you need before I go to the nursery?"

"I don't think so." As Elsie turned, Charles watched Livy's heavy eyes closing as she sucked on her little fist against his wife's shoulder. "Wait. I have one question."

Turning back, she offered a sweet smile, "Yes, sir?"

"Do you want to get married?"

"To you?"

He nodded.

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm spoken for."

"You are?"

"Mmmm…and he happens to be the love of my life."

"Is that so?" Charles took a few slow steps in her direction.

"Indeed, and he's quite tall and handsome... and charming...and together we make beautiful babies."

"Ah, as evidenced by the gorgeous girl in your arms?"

"Quite." Elsie swept her head in the direction of the bedroom, encouraging him to follow her.

"So I haven't a chance?"

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she unbuttoned her blouse and arranged an eager Livy in her arms. "I'm afraid not. There isn't a soul in this whole wide world for whom I would trade him."

"Ah, well…"

Having pulled on a vest and a pair of pants, Charles lowered himself next to his wife, offering the tip of his finger around which Livy wrapped her tiny hand. "We do make beautiful babies."

Elsie smiled, leaning against his shoulder. "I think we should try for the next when the girls are ready to be potty trained."

"You would like to have more?"

She glanced up at him in surprise. "Don't you remember? Lots and lots of babies."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her temple. "As many as you want."

"It's a good life, isn't it, honey?"

"The baddies lost and the goodies won."

Elsie ran a gentle hand over her baby daughter's head. "Oh, yes. We won alright." She looked down at her husband's large hand which was now gently stroking Livy's arm. "Ask me again."

"What?"

"Ask. Me. Again."

Not answering, Charles rose from the bed and made his way back into the bathroom.

"Honey?"

Returning with his palm closed, he carefully lowered himself to one knee and opened his hand to reveal her sparkling clean mother's and wedding rings. "Elsie, will you be my everything?"

Gently shifting the now sleeping baby to her shoulder, she held out her left hand. "Always."


A little nod to the lovely man we lost this week... As always, thank you for your kindness. Every bit counts in this world. -Jen