October 8th, 1990
Today should be a happy day. Abigail had learned to ride her little bicycle without the training wheels, and she had happily demonstrated that she could count to twenty, and that she could read the book she had been practicing with her grandmother, and she wasn't quite four yet.
Cameron had done a drawing of a puppy that actually looked like a puppy, or at least recognizably like a canine with a drooling tongue, floppy ears, and a wagging tail. He was picking up more words daily, and babbling up a storm, and he would be two next month.
Summer had finally turned one. She was walking, and starting to pick up words, and completely weaned.
Today should be a happy day, but Charlie wasn't here.
He didn't see the things their children were learning, or how they were growing.
He hadn't sent a single word, or called, or come home in thirty-four days.
Not a note. Not a cent. No news, no word…no sign that he was safe, or even alive.
He wasn't here to answer Abigail's questions. Where was her daddy?
He wasn't here to calm tears.
He wasn't here, and it was no longer a private matter.
After a week, she'd had to tell her instructors, and his physical therapist, and her job. It was too hard to do everything as she had before, and they noticed. They were sympathetic, and kind, which almost made it worse.
Shelby didn't want to hate him. She didn't want to think that he had meant anything other than what his letter said. He felt like a burden, he wanted to contribute, he needed to think. He hadn't blamed her.
But was she to blame? She didn't want to hate him, but she didn't want to hate herself, to wonder with persistent doubts if she had done everything she could, or if there was something he had needed that she simply hadn't given him. Or if it had always been that way.
He'd always said he loved her, but whenever things got rough… he ran away; to the bar, to lovers… and now just…away.
She wanted him home, even if it meant that talking things out proved things she would rather not consider. What was wrong? What could they do together to fix it? Was he unhappy with her?
She didn't want to hate him, but at night, alone in the dark, it was sometimes almost too easy. She wanted to cry, and rant, and beg, and demand, and know…
…but Charlie wasn't here.
He was gone, and no one had figured out where he went. They didn't know.
And he didn't know, because he wasn't here, about his fourth child… the unborn one… the one conceived in a night of passion that she had thought meant a rekindling of what was lost, that he was starting to recover from the shock and horror he'd experienced in Drachma, and losing his hand, and the pain of recovery.
If this was goodbye, it wasn't a gift. It was a nightmare.
It was a terrible time to be pregnant, with the future so uncertain, but she'd keep it, and she'd love it. It wasn't this new child's fault its father had disappeared.
If Charlie knew, would he come home? Shelby could not imagine it would make much difference. He'd left her to take care of all three children on her own. Intentions be damned.
It didn't help that her father's reaction had been a tirade of how much he had told them all so, and what a lousy person Charlie had always been, and how he'd known it would all come to ruin. Her mother had been kinder, but she had always felt something was off, even though Shelby had never told her parents about Charlie's transgressions when they lived up by Briggs. Sometimes Shelby wondered if her mother had figured it out on her own, or at least suspected.
Today should be a happy day, but all she could do was cry inside.
October 14th, 1990
It was amazing how adding one small, squirming new member of the family could make what had been a new house, feel almost at once like home. In the few days since coming home from the hospital, Anika had become even fonder of the space she and Ted had chosen to be their home.
She had also fallen head-over-heels in love with the most adorable little boy in the whole world.
Despite months to prepare for the reality of becoming a mother, Anika hadn't given a lot of thought as to how that would feel. Her focus had been on just being somewhere safe, where she could meet its basic needs. For the first couple of months, that had included ways of supporting a baby as a single mother, presuming they all survived the coup. Then Ted had arrived, and when it was clear that he had no intention of leaving her behind again, ever, unless she made him, that plan had become their plan.
Anika had never really been a baby person. She had watched her brother's kids before, and she liked them okay, but she had never really been the type to coo and gush over children, or dream of parenthood.
Yet Nikolai was singularly the most amazing little person she had ever met. Even at just a few days old, he had a distinct personality, the same personality he had exhibited inside her. He preferred to curl up, rather than stretch out. He was incredibly squirmy when he was hungry. He also had an incredibly loud cry which, in the middle of the night, was impossible to sleep through.
Thankfully, there were two parents, and only one baby. They also had lots of Ted's family around to help take care of basic needs, so they could focus on getting used to being parents, and bonding with their baby. Still, Ted had thrown himself at this the same way he seemed to do everything, and Anika was grateful that—so far—he hadn't complained once about doing a lot of the diaper changing, or walking and burping after she had fed Nikolai. It meant they both got some sleep and, as he insisted, she needed it more.
Given how tired she was, even a week later, Anika was not inclined to disagree. If it weren't for Ted, and the help they got from his family, she knew she would have been much more frazzled. So far, neither she nor Ted had needed to do more to cook than pop something pre-prepped out of the refrigerator and into the oven. Everything his family had brought to fill their refrigerator and freezer was delicious, no matter who had prepared it. Each item was labelled with the name of the person who had prepared it, the date, and the ingredients and what it was. Perhaps the most thoughtful part, was they had included the recipes and instructions, should Anika and Ted decide they wanted to make whatever it was again in the future.
It was early in the afternoon, and she had just slipped a large casserole dish full of a Cretan pasta-sausage-and-veggie casserole into the oven, and put on the kettle to heat up tea, when the doorbell rang.
Since Ted was upstairs changing and burping Nikolai, she went to the door. With people coming in-and-out regularly the past few days, she suspected it was either Cassie again, or some relative or other.
Anika was not prepared for whom she saw standing on the other side of the door. While she had never met the people standing on her porch, but she would have been completely ignorant not to recognize Ted's grandparents. Outside of historical documents, the only pictures she had ever seen of them were in family pictures, but in the past couple of months she had seen tons of those, which made all four of the people standing in front of her living legends.
Apparently at least some of her surprise had registered on her face, because Winry smiled at her in a way that said she had a good idea of what Anika might be feeling. "Good afternoon, Anika," she said as she held out her hand. "We're Ted's grandparents, and this is his great-uncle and aunt. I hope you don't mind us stopping by. Cassie didn't think you'd mind, and we just arrived in town."
It gave her just enough time to regain composure and remember that this was her house. Anika took Winry's hand and shook it. "I recognized you," she admitted, smiling back. "Your family keeps a lot of photographs."
Edward—she could totally see in person why her husband was named after the man—chuckled. "We do, don't we? It's a pleasure to meet you."
"It's an honor," Anika admitted, taking his hand next, and trying not to feel flustered. It was silly, really. She had grown up with a house full of dignitaries and nobility and ranking military officers coming in and out of her family's home. Somehow though, this was different. Edward and Alphonse in particular, featured several times in stories out of Drachman history, dating back to years pre-dating her father. They had to be at least ninety-years-old, but there was such life in those eyes, and in that expression. If she hadn't known better she wouldn't have guessed any of them were as old as she knew they had to be. Not that they looked young, but to her, they could have been in their seventies, and the youngest perhaps her early sixties. "Please, come in. I just put on water for tea. Ted's upstairs with the baby, but he'll be down in a minute."
She stepped back, welcoming them into her home, and Anika was relived and pleased to find them very amenable houseguests. They made several sincere compliments about the house, noticing several of the features that had made her and Ted like it in the first place, and much to her surprise and pleasure, they all recognized the painting above the fireplace.
"We saw the original during a diplomatic visit to Petrayevka, many years ago," Edward told her. "I'm a big fan of his work, actually, not that I've ever been able to get my hands on a piece, not even a print. They're incredibly hard to come by in Amestris."
"So I gathered from what Ian and Bonnie told me, sir," Anika admitted. "You might ask Ian."
"I will. Little scamp's been holding on out me." Though the lack of malice in his voice, and the twinkle in his eyes told her Edward was teasing. "And please, skip the sir. I've been retired for decades, and you're part of the family. Edward is fine, and you'll find that goes for the rest of us; the lack of formality I mean."
"All right, then." They had accepted her so easily, just like the rest had, and after knowing her for only a couple of minutes. Of course, they had probably heard lots from other members of the family.
Just then the tea kettle started whistling, and she headed into the kitchen.
"Can I help?" Winry offered.
"Sure. The cups are there," Anika pointed towards the cabinet, then went to the pantry and pulled out the tea. Among the wide variety of surprises she was still finding had been the gift of several excellent teas from Xing from that side of the family.
Anika had stopped being surprised by how well they had been set up days ago, but she still appreciated and admired both the Xingese tea set, and the larger set of mugs they had been given.
Ted's grandmother admired both as she pulled them out and set out cups for six. "These are lovely," she commented, echoing Anika's thoughts.
"They are," she agreed. "Ted assured me family would help out, but I had no idea what to expect. Even though he tells me a lot of this is hand-me-downs, it looks new, and none of it looks inexpensive."
"We do like to hold on to things," Winry admitted with a chuckle. "And we have collected a wide variety of household objects over the years. They should always be used by people who will appreciate them. I hope they're to your tastes. If not, don't feel bad about replacing them over time and passing them on to someone else who needs them."
A practical philosophy, but one that Anika's own family had always followed as well. Why have all that furniture that was hundreds of years old if they weren't going to use it, after all? And they kept it all in good repair. "Thank you. I appreciate knowing that," Anika replied. "Though I have to admit, I was surprised at how well most of it is already to my tastes, even the colors. I would have been happy with anything that was functional." Ted had expressed no particular décor concerns other than nothing be in blood red, pink, or covered in lace. As Anika also thought all three of those things would be terrible in a house, that had been easy to agree to.
They poured tea into all five cups as they talked, and she let Winry handle cream and-or sugar for everyone except Anika and Ted. "Which brings me to my question, really," Winry smiled, "Which is that we haven't had the opportunity to give you a wedding or baby gift. I thought that with so many people bringing you things it would be best to wait and see if there was anything you needed, or particularly wanted, instead of making assumptions."
What an incredibly thoughtful and generous sentiment. Not that any of the gifts they had received had been anything but thoughtful and generous, but there were times it was nice to be asked, to have a sense that she had a little more control over something in her life.
"There are a couple of things I've been missing," Anika admitted. "They're not big things."
"What are they?"
"There are a couple of spices I haven't seen in a grocers. I did not think of them as uncommon, but apparently they don't grow native to Amestris, and there hasn't been time to look in specialty shops." It really seemed a very small thing, and she hoped they wouldn't mind it wasn't larger. "The other, is a quilt that my great-grandmother made, that was passed down from her, to my grandmother, to my mother, to me. Since they attacked the estate, I don't even know if it still exists, and I could hardly ask anyone to go looking for it. But it was on my bed from the time I was small, and it was incredibly beautiful. I haven't seen one in that pattern in a long time, but my father said it used to be very traditional."
"What did it look like?"
For only a moment, Anika hesitated, but it was clear that Winry's interest was genuine, so she described it, in detail, the pattern of the pieces, the colors, even the details of prints she could remember and the order they had been in, and the pattern in the quilting that overlaid it all.
It was only as she finished, and looked up from the tea she had been adding sugar to, that she realized Winry had whipped paper and a pencil out of who-knew-where, and was sketching. "Was it something like this?" she asked, holding up what proved to be a drawing of a quilt pattern piece, and copious notes.
Anika blinked. The quilt piece square she had sketched looked exactly like the design her grandmother had used. Obviously, this sketch was black-and-white, and without the specific fabrics, but it was definitely the right pattern. "That's incredible. Have you seen one before?"
"It's possible, though I couldn't tell you where," Winry smiled. "Your description was very specific. Elicia quilts, and I help her sometimes. It's something her mother taught us a long time ago. I wouldn't presume to try and replace a priceless family heirloom… but if you said this was a very traditional Drachman pattern, we could probably create a similar one. Then, if you ever are able to get yours back, you'd have two. It would take some time of course…"
Anika wondered if Winry understood the immensity of the offer she had just made. It was truly touching. "I would like that very much," she acknowledged. "Thank you."
It only took another couple of minutes to finish preparing tea and, while they were thinking about it, little snacking sandwiches. Not that Anika had to do more than agree they sounded like a good idea before Winry volunteered to do all the work herself.
"So, you're working at the zoo," she commented as they plated their snack.
Anika nodded. "I am. Though it will be a few weeks until I go back, of course. My friends promised to take care of Myrda for me."
"She's your tiger."
"That's right. She was rescued in the wilderness as an orphan and brought to the zoo. I raised her myself." Anika was rather proud of how beautiful her tiger had turned out, even though she could never return to the wild. "Once they finish integrating our animals with the existing ones, she will be available for everyone to see her." Of course, she would probably be back at her other work sooner, given they kept calling her in for briefings and information at Headquarters. Well, they could just handle her carrying her infant if they needed her that badly.
Winry was smiling. "When we get in there you definitely need to talk to Alphonse about his tiger."
Anika managed not to drop the tray of sandwiches in her surprise, if just barely. "Alphonse has a tiger?"
"He rescued one from an alchemist's lab on a mission years ago, and brought it here to Amestris. She lived out the rest of her life here at the zoo. Alphonse used to go visit her every week."
So not only was Alphonse Elric a cat lover, he was a big cat lover as well. "I will definitely do that."
October 21, 1990
The weather was precisely what Gloria had envisioned for her wedding day when she and Alexei had finally set the date and location. Outside the venue, the lake reflected the blue sky with a glass-smooth sheen, and the trees in the mountains around them were a riot of vibrant autumn hues. The reds dripped like blood, the oranges burned in fiery glory, the yellows were bright like golden apples, and even the remaining greens seemed particularly crisp.
The Skyview Resort was everything their advertising claimed, and Gloria was certain even her mother could find no fault in the place. The huge windows along the wall of the dining room looked out over the lake in question, and there was room for both the tables for eating, and a wide open area for dancing. The ceremony itself would take place out on a large whitewashed decked terrace with an artistic white gazebo.
Most of her family and friends—more than expected really, thanks to the meetings in Central that she wasn't really supposed to know about, but knew must be going on to pull Minxia and Thrakos and her Aunt's brother and sister from Xing into Central at the same time that long before her wedding. Still, even her cousins Michio and Kamika had come back from Xing for the wedding.
She understood why, given the situation, some of her family members on Great Uncle Edward's side were simply not going to be able to make it, but a lot of her extended cousins had anyway, and Edward and Winry had come with her grandparents. Mainly she was grateful her friends could be there, and that war hadn't broken out taking her father away. Gloria hadn't been sure if he would be able to get away with the political situation what it was at present, but he was there.
The only person missing who she had always thought would be here, was her brother. Part of Gloria had hoped, desperately, that even though he had vanished from the house, and he hadn't called anyone or sent word since, that he was all right somewhere and that he might show up. Shelby was here, smiling through eyes that held little joy, with Gloria's nieces and nephew, who all looked adorable. Little Abigail was their flower girl. I don't know where you are Charlie, but I hope you're alive.
Then she had to focus, and put the pain from her mind. Today was her wedding day, hers and Alexei's, and as she looked in the mirror in the dressing room, she hoped she looked at least a little bit like a princess out of a Drachman fairy tale. Her dress, strapless white silk cut like those of the Empresses in paintings, but with a modern, smoother line, that fit her bodice and then flared just above the hip out in a full skirt. Embroidered subtly all across the gown in a fall down the front and around as if blown by the wind, were delicate white leaves that looked as if frost itself had settled on the gown, subtle and shimmering. Her jewelry, simple silver highly polished necklace and earrings that dangled several inches, accentuating her neck, with tiny emeralds. On her head however, was the true glory; the little tiara trimmed in diamonds that had been a gift from Mrs. Gurina, and instead of a veil, it held in place down her head the sheer, delicate white shawl trimmed in the tiniest red, gold, and green beads. Her thick curls fell loose underneath it, artfully arranged around her shoulders. When she picked up her round bouquet—a small riot of red roses, orange-gold dahlias, and greenery, it seemed to bring it all together.
Behind her in the mirror, she could see her mother misty-eyed and beaming.
"What do you think?" Gloria asked, turning around to face her directly.
"In my incredibly biased opinion? I think you look perfect." They closed for a heartfelt, and very gentle hug, her mother carefully not squashing anything. "If Alexei can get words out of his mouth when he sees you, I'll be impressed."
"He had better be able to," Gloria chuckled. "He has to say his vows. Should I be less perfect?"
"Never." Her father's voice came from the doorway. "Besides, I'm sure it's impossible for you to be less perfect." He came into the room, dressed in his suit, not a uniform this time, but a suit of incredibly dark grey with a subtle metallic sheen that made it look more like matte brushed silver. His cream-and-sage striped tie matched her mother's dress. "You look beautiful, sweetie."
"Thanks, Daddy." His hug was just as warm, and just as careful. "I'm so glad you're here. That you're both here." She was only too aware of how close she had come more than once to losing her father, and most recently, her mother. Her mother's survival from cancer, and her father not being off in a foreign country leading soldiers…both were things beyond Gloria's control, and she was grateful to still have them both.
It was clear they understood what she meant both in that sense, and the noted and painful absence of one quarter of their family. They hugged again, all three, and it was all Gloria could do not to tear up, but she managed. Then she took her father's arm.
"You look incredibly dashing," she told him.
"I had to at least try not to look shabby next to you," he chuckled, but he looked pleased, and proud. Gloria was grateful. It seemed that any concerns her father had about her marrying Alexei had been put to rest. "Now, let's go see if he can manage to talk enough to get those vows out when he gets a look at you."
All teasing aside, Alyse did not really expect her soon-to-be son-in-law to have any difficulty being articulate, though his expression of delight and anticipation when Gloria appeared was all someone might hope to see on the face of the person they loved most.
It was a near-perfect wedding. Abigail was adorable as she scattered flower petals. Gloria looked stunning, mature and elegant; Alexei handsome and smitten, though thankfully not tongue-tied. The ceremony itself was not long, and soon enough they were officially wed, and the celebration began.
Alyse was rather grateful that neither side of the family went in for long speeches. Aside from a handful of short ones over dinner while folks were eating, which were natural and pleased and came mostly from Cal, and Alexei's father, most of the festivities were given over quickly after to music and dancing, and after the few traditional starting dances were done, the formality ended, and it was truly just a joyous celebration.
Alyse stole Cal back from their daughter. "You owe me a dance, soldier," she smiled, pulling him onto the dance floor.
"No man is his right mind would ever turn down a request to dance from a beautiful woman," Cal chuckled, following along without resistance and bringing her in close into his arms. "Especially not if there's any possibility he might get lucky." He waggled an eyebrow, grinning mischievously.
Alyse laughed. "A handsome gentleman might have a chance. If he's a good enough dancer."
"For you, I could dance all night."
For a few minutes, Alyse lost herself in the music, in the lights, in Cal's strong arms. She knew he was far more stressed out than he was acting, but that the very last thing he would ever do would be to let down his daughter on her wedding day. So even though they were all worried about Charlie, he was smiling, and beaming, and focused entirely on making sure Gloria had the most perfect day possible; and now, that she did as well.
So, she leaned into him, and enjoyed the warm safety of his embrace, and thought of how nice it would be when he retired in the next few months, and was no longer disgruntled with his desk job, or in danger of being sent back into combat. Once he retired, they could travel more, and spend afternoons at the country club with Maes and Elena, and socialize, and dabble in whatever suited their fancy. And spend far more time with their family. All of them, all over the world.
Wherever they might be.
Elicia was certain she would never get tired of weddings. Especially not the ones that involved her family. Her granddaughter was radiant, and she thought Alexei was a perfect addition to the family. She had found him and Alphonse deeply lost in conversation earlier that day, before the ceremony, while Alexei was trying not to be too nervous.
In these troubled, complicated times, it was good for everyone to have time to get away, to relax, and to enjoy and celebrate the things that mattered in life.
Not that everyone appeared to be having a wonderful time, though most of them were very convincingly hiding it. As much as Shelby was trying, Elicia could see a tightness in her eyes, pain hidden behind her smiles that slipped as soon as people turned away. In those moments, she was vulnerable, and a little pale. Even as she watched her children enjoying themselves. Or at least, Abigail, who was just big enough to "dance" with her great-grandpa Alphonse at the very edge of the dance floor. Cameron was perfectly happy to play in a corner with another toddler from Alexei's side who belonged to a cousin, and Summer had passed out in Shelby's arms, exhausted from so much stimulation and excitement. The table behind her held a mostly untouched plate.
Elicia sidled over and sat down in the next chair. "Would you like your hands back?" she offered.
Shelby smiled tiredly. "Maybe for a few minutes." Carefully she shifted Summer, and handed her over. The baby settled into Elicia's shoulder as snugly as she had been in her mother's, sighed, and relaxed.
Elicia smiled. She would never tire of holding little ones, and it gave Shelby a moment to actually eat the food that she had clearly not been able to get to, and breathe for a few minutes. Being the mother of three was definitely a handful. Doing it on her own, given the circumstances had to be trying, and emotionally exhausting. She watched her nibble at the plate of relatively simple offerings. "Are you all right, Shelby?" she finally asked, trying not to sound meddling.
Shelby gave a small shrug. "I'm tired," she admitted after a moment. "And worried. It seems like all I've done for a month and a half is worry; about my children, about the future…about Charlie."
"I promise, we're all worried about Charlie." She was not at all alone in that. Elicia worried about her grandson daily. "We'll find him, or he'll come home. But you know, you're family, and you have our support. Please, don't hesitate to ask for anything."
Shelby nodded. "Thank you, and I know that. My mother understands, but my father… I can't even go over there anymore without listening to him go off on a tirade about how Charlie's abandoned us, and what a terrible person he is, and how my father was right that I should never have married him… and I can't take the kids over because I don't want them to hear it. Not that way. I know Cameron and Summer are too small to really understand, except that Cameron misses him, but Abby... she wants to know where her daddy is, and I can't tell her, and… I'm sorry," she cut off abruptly, wiping a tear away quickly with her hand. "This isn't the right place to talk about unpleasant things."
"Anytime you need to talk is the right time," Elicia replied with a small shake of her head. "And, forgive me for being pushy, but you look ill." It might just be the stress getting to her, but Shelby was going to be worse off than that, holding it together too long, too tight.
She waited as Shelby sat quietly in thought, still picking listlessly at the food, until finally… "I'm pregnant."
It was a good thing she was sitting, because that had not been what she had been expecting in response. That, nor the crack of anguish in the younger woman's voice, and she understood; whether Charlie came back or not… if they were through or not… on top of everything else, she had a fourth one coming, and none of them over the age of four.
Elicia couldn't hide her surprise. "Does Charlie know?"
Shelby shook her head. "No. I only found out recently… after he disappeared. I've been trying to figure out how I'm supposed to do everything… and take on another child and I feel like a terrible mother, because I can't even find it in me to be happy about this child. It's like a nightmare… but I don't want to feel that way about it."
Elicia could feel her heart breaking for the other woman. Shelby wasn't weak, or even submissive, far from either, but she was having a lot tossed at her. It must be painfully overwhelming. "You know… in your position, I'd probably feel the same way."
Shelby looked at her, startled. "Really?"
"Absolutely. I can't imagine being happy about it in the current situation. The timing is unfortunate, and it's not anything you'd have chosen, or I would have chosen. You deserve so much better than this, and what's happened isn't fair and I hope you know that as much as I love my grandson, and as worried as I am for him, I don't approve of how he's treated you, and I'm frankly a little surprised you haven't divorced him. I wouldn't blame you either way there either, honestly. But that's your business, not mine. Just, please don't think we would think less of you for it, or for choosing to stay." Elicia hadn't quite meant to get right to it like that, or say quite so much, but it seemed to have been the right thing, because Shelby looked stunned, then slightly relieved.
"I'm not sure why that makes me feel a little better, but it does, thank you," Shelby said finally. "Part of me feels like it would be wisest to just… get over it and move on, but until I know if he's even alive or where he is… I just don't feel like I can move in any direction. I just have to put that on hold, so I can keep doing everything else I need to do; take care of the kids, go to work, go to school. I can't let those things fall apart. If he never comes back, I'll need them more than ever. I know no one will leave me to do it alone, not really, because your family is wonderful, and my mother loves us too much, but I feel terrible for needing the help. This was not where I pictured myself at this point in my life, and I was an idealistic idiot not to see it coming."
"There is nothing foolish about putting everything you have into making it work when you've made the commitment, when you love someone. The only foolish thing is continuing to do if or when it proves to be to your detriment. If you still have hope that you can work things out, then wait. Do what is right for you, and for your family. I wouldn't presume to do it for you. That said, if you need anything from me while you're getting things together and getting life in order, please ask."
"I will," Shelby promised with a small nod. "Though right now I'm not sure what I need that hasn't already been offered, except perhaps sanity."
Elicia couldn't help a small chuckle. "I'm not sure you'll find much of that around here."
Cal sipped his glass of champagne and watched as Gloria took yet another turn around the dance floor in Alexei's arms. The party had been going for hours, and while he felt he had put in a decent showing, most of the people he would not have called youngsters had vacated the floor, leaving it to those with the energy to enjoy it.
At the moment that meant Gloria and Alexei, Dare and Lorraine, and many more of that twenties crowd. He had even seen his father-in-law talk Shelby out onto the dance floor for one number. Anyone who wasn't dancing was standing or sitting around, chatting over drinks and whatever last nibbles of cake might be on their plates.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves for the most part, even the members of his family who were hurting. Cal would smile through anything if it meant his family had a good day. Nothing should mar his daughter's wedding, and he didn't want her to ever look back on this day with sorrow or regret. Alyse either. Though he knew that wasn't entirely within his power, he could do his part.
So, he smiled, and laughed, and danced with his daughter, and with his wife, and even his daughter-in-law. He spoke eloquently during toasts, and welcomed Alexei as part of the family, even as Gloria was now part of theirs.
It was a relief to finally be relegated to background wall art for a bit, where he could sit, and sip, and watch without anyone feeling like they needed to come up and speak with him for the sake of polite conversation. He was just the father of the bride; he was just paying for the event. That was plenty in his mind.
Which did not keep him from being sought out in his quiet corner with his champagne, but at least the person who did was not someone he had to pretend around.
"Well, everything looks like it's gone smoothly," Tore commented as he joined him at the wall with his own glass, "And they look very happy," he gestured at Gloria and Alexei.
"Which is precisely as it should be," Cal replied with a nod, sipping his champagne.
"Which is why you're over here brooding enough for all of them."
Cal eyed his friend sideways without turning his head. "Do I look brooding?"
Tore shook his head, and sipped from his own glass. "Not at all. I'm sure no one else has noticed."
"If you noticed, Alyse has." Though Cal doubted his wife would say anything about it. It was on her mind too. "We were hoping he'd show up."
"I was too," Tore admitted quietly. "I've still got a guy on the case, but all I can say for sure is he's almost certainly not in Central."
"I appreciate the extra pair of eyes," Cal replied. His own investigations had still turned up nothing. It was as if Charlie had managed to disappear off the map, and since he wasn't technically missing they couldn't involve the police. "I just wish I could understand what was going through his head. None of his reasons for leaving are the reasons I left home." At least, not the ones left in the letter.
"Me neither." Tore shrugged, sounding equally bemused. "Well, not entirely. I think, I hope anyway, he just needs time to think things over and realize that what he's looking for is right back here, waiting for him."
"That's what I keep telling myself." Cal just hoped that if his son came back, he and Shelby could work things out. For now though, he was about ready to drop the subject.
Tore seemed to sense that as well. "So, how do you manage that relaxed, happy expression?"
Cal held up his glass. "A lot of champagne."
Charlie looked at the few sens left in his wallet as he walked out of the post office into the darkening skies. It wasn't much, but it would be enough until his next payday. Meager as it was, it was all he could scrape together. He just hoped that what he sent eased some of the burden of raising his children, and showed Shelby he'd meant what he said in the letter.
Enough sens for a drink in the local bar. Charlie tucked his wallet back in his pocket and headed up the street, which also wound uphill, towards the only bar in town. It had taken him a while to find a place where they were desperate enough to take a laborer with only half-use of his auto-mail hand, but he finally had here, in the backend of nowhere.
Charlie walked into the bar, which was fairly crowded this evening. Though he doubted that was unusual. He hadn't been here long, but it seemed to be the only place for adults to spend their time unless they were at home in this town. Like his new boss, Old Man Eli, who ran the automotive shop. Of course, only an old man going blind and arthritic would hire him, and at the barest wage, given he could not really afford the help. Still, Charlie didn't object. There was a room above the shop that came with the job, and meals with the old man if he wanted to walk next door to the house, so he could afford to send most of his pay back to Central. Not that he'd told Eli that's what he planned to do with it.
No one in town knew his real name, or why he was here. Charlie wanted it that way.
"What'll it be tonight, Harlen?" the bartender, Evan, asked him as Charlie sat down at the bar.
"The Cretan Dark," Charlie replied to the alias, ordering one of the small variety of beers available on-tap at the establishment. It was, in his mind, the most palatable.
He paid, and in just a minute Evan was back with his drink, then off to fill orders for another customer. That was another nice thing about a crowded bar; if Charlie wanted to be left alone, he generally was, because there was always someone else to talk to. It had only taken them a couple of days to get bored of the newcomer.
Charlie had given them the most basic story possible, and one he could keep up without trying too hard; a soldier, medically discharged, hard on his luck and just looking for work. Outside of a couple of combat stories, he was ordinary and relatively dull.
He looked down into his beer, holding onto the bottle with his good hand. The other one still ached constantly, even though it was now at least functional. Charlie took a drink, and even though he tried not to think too hard, his mind wandered to his family. He knew exactly where they all were tonight, of course. There was no way he could have forgotten the date of his sister's wedding.
They were all up near North City, celebrating his perfect sister, as she married her dashing, handsome, talented Alexei. Not that Charlie had anything against his sister's new husband. In fact, he rather liked the guy and he thought they were about as perfect a match as he'd seen.
Far more right for each other than he and Shelby had turned out; and he couldn't bring himself to lie any of that at Shelby's feet. All he could see looking back was a long string of him screwing up over and over, right back to the beginning, and it was Shelby and the children paying the price. He'd been a terrible parent, a worse husband, and while he knew it must have hurt Shelby to find him gone, he was certain that by now she had already realized that life was better without him in it. All he was any good for—and barely at that—was providing a meager living, and they didn't need him for that… just his wages.
When he left, he'd had some vague, fuzzy notion of redemption, of making enough to fix some of the mess he'd made of the life of the woman he loved more than life itself. But could he? The longer he was gone, the more he was coming to realize that he might not be able to go home again. His father surely was furious, his mother heartbroken, his sister disgusted… they would see it as abandonment, no matter what he said, and they wouldn't be wrong, in the end. But wasn't it better this way? He couldn't be an embarrassment if he wasn't around.
He was more use to them here, in this old, run down town, working for an old, run down man, fixing old, run down cars. It would never be enough, but every sen was a small, heartfelt apology.
Author's Note: 2/13/2020 Happy day-before Valentine's Day. As a gift of how much I appreciate everyone who's reading (first time, reread, long-time readers) I will be posting several chapters tonight, because we get back to the major action here pretty soon!
