April 1999

Sue Ellen carefully traversed the path that led to Miss Ellie's cherished garden, an enclosure which was a stone's throw away from Southfork's pool. Squatted beside the Hibiscus plant, Eleanor adhered to the flower with tender love and care. "Bobby said I would find you here."

Eleanor peered up from beneath her white bucket hat. "Dad didn't need me in the office today." Her mother nodded her head in affirmation, yet she was acutely aware that J.R. had likely done all within his power to elude his daughter. He had been the same way when they were married; it was the only day of the year he appeared too ashamed to face her. Eleanor also suspected that the low workload at the company had very little to do with the new financial quarter and was a convenient ploy to avoid conversation with her. He had even skipped breakfast.

"Sweetheart, can I talk with you for a minute?" Sue Ellen rippled the tip of her manicured nails between the metallic wind chime that hung from the wooden swing-seat nearby and pondered the last time she had visited the quiet corner of the ranch. She supposed it must have been in the days before she left Dallas for the drizzly London skies.

"Sure," Eleanor whipped off the gardening gloves from both hands and joined her mother on the bench.

The weight of their bodies propelled the seat into motion and they quietly rocked back and forth for a minute or two. "It's been some time since you and I last talked about Kristin and I wondered if maybe you would like to," Sue Ellen nervously started. She had finally reached a state of contentment and closure. On the odd days her little sister entered her mind, Sue Ellen didn't feel hounded and she could only remember the fond memories of their childhood. Eleanor, on the other hand, stiffened at the mere mention of her name.

"There isn't much to say." Eleanor stifled the desire to flee and Sue Ellen timidly curled an arm around her shoulders to prevent exactly that. The circumstances of her birth had been swept into the wind, another Ewing myth that they so rarely acknowledged. In fact, anyone from the outside who looked in would have assumed Sue Ellen to be Eleanor's natural mother. They shared the same wide hazel eyes and porcelain skin. Eleanor had even inherited little mannerisms from her - the way she brushed wisps of hair from her eyes, the tendency to chew on her bottom lip when she was nervous - so it was easy to forget the common denominator.

Sue Ellen silenced the voice in her head that willed her to end the conversation there. "It's okay to wonder about her," she promised.

Eleanor curled her lips to one side, "I don't." She was six years old when she first learnt of her maternity. What she remembered most of the conversation was the floral scent of perfume as Sue Ellen held her close, as if terrified to lose her. The very next day Miss Ellie sat Eleanor down in her garden with a metaphor about flowers and how it didn't matter who planted the seed; it's more important who loves and nurtures the flower until it blossoms. The day after that she and Sue Ellen purchased the wind chime in memorial of Kristin. On every anniversary of her death, they visited the token of remembrance and Sue Ellen vowed to answer any question Eleanor had. Except, none ever came.

Sue Ellen nodded her head, "I do." She often found herself torn between parallel universes and what their lives would have been if Kristin hadn't died prematurely. She wouldn't have been Eleanor's mother but she liked to believe she would have loved her niece and formed some kind of connection with her sister. "I think about who she would have become if she were alive today."

"Do you ever wish I was your daughter?"

Sue Ellen tilted her head to one side and lifted Eleanor's chin, "You are mine in every way that matters." It was a rhetoric she had delivered for many years, yet her response still felt insufficient.

Eleanor irritably retracted from her touch, "You know what I mean." Her mother had never once treated her differently or poorly. In fact, there were times that Sue Ellen showered her with even more love than she did John Ross. Her adoption was public record and it was widely understood that Eleanor had been the result of an affair between J.R. and Kristin, two things which fuelled her insecurity. It was difficult to believe that Sue Ellen didn't possess a slither of resentment toward her for what her very existence represented.

"I love you, sweetheart," Sue Ellen tucked loose strands of Eleanor's hair behind her ear. The day of Eleanor's formal adoption had been as happy a day as the first time she really held John Ross. "I loved you from the very first day I saw you." She could still remember the faint smell of baby powder and warm milk when she held Eleanor for the first time in the Southfork nursery.

"What about daddy? Do you love him?" Eleanor abruptly swerved the focus of attention and Sue Ellen buckled underneath the scrutiny. Her silence was all the response Eleanor needed and the muscles in her face tightened with tension. "Are you two back together again?" Her mother's departure from the rodeo had coincided with the sudden disappearance of her father, who failed to make an appearance at breakfast the next day. It wasn't unlike him to leave his bed unslept in but it was suspicious timing.

"Would that bother you?"

"I just don't want to see you hurt, mama," she expressed one of her deepest fears as if it were an inevitability. Eleanor adored her father but he had let her mother down more than once before. Vows of faithfulness and loyalty didn't fit into his repertoire, even in his sixth decade.

"You won't," Sue Ellen confidently promised, "Your father is a dear friend. Sometimes, he's been more than a friend." Eleanor uncomfortably recoiled with wide eyes and Sue Ellen wrinkled her nose playfully. "Whatever happens between us, I promise it won't affect you or your brother." She and J.R. had rekindled their romance and it was as heavenly as the first time he courted her. The early days of a new relationship, or reunion after a low period, always was for them.

Unconvinced, Eleanor placated her mother with a small smile. "Just be careful, please."

"I will," Sue Ellen squeezed Eleanor's shoulder. "Besides, shouldn't I be the one worried about who you date - not the other way around?"

The crunch of footsteps from behind prompted Sue Ellen to peer over her shoulder and J.R. wandered into view, yet maintained his distance to observe from afar. He knew instantly why they were there and it unsettled him. As far as he was concerned, Kristin was ancient history and, to his mind, Sue Ellen was Eleanor's mother. She raised, loved and cared for her better than Kristin ever did in the first few months of her life in California. Every other day of the year, he could pretend Kristin never existed - except, this one.

Sue Ellen extended a subtle wave to him and J.R. raised his hand in reply. Their past was never far behind them.