The house was too big without Elizabeth in it. Was it that her presence was so mighty that it filled every room? Every crack in the floorboards? Every crinkle in the wallpaper and splits in the wood? Maybe Roger Collins had just gotten too used to her always being here; either in her office or by the drawing room window. Ever present and ever trapped within the walls. Worry filled these halls now, mixed finely with dread and poured over a glass of anger and regret.
Collinwood seemed just wrong without her in it.
Was that a selfish thought? Oh, perhaps. Just because he had gotten used to Elizabeth's static occupancy , did not mean that he should be comfortable with the whole horrid situation that was her practical self-imprisonment. Nor should he miss her terribly now that she had left for a few days.
He always hoped one day soon she'd finally break free from the mansion's embrace and return to the waiting world. If you asked him months ago he might have said he would have given anything to see that. That was, of course, before the stain on society that was Jason McGuire tainted his beloved sister till death do they part.
The drafty old house needed her as badly as the family did. But now they had to deal with the leech attached to her now.
Roger watched as the doors to the house opened, eagerly creaking in delight to welcome back its Mistress. Elizabeth walked into Collinwood first, suitcase in hand. She looked well enough. Tired, of course, but still as put together and sturdy as she ever was.
Roger let out a tightly held breath and released the drawing room door's handles from his vice-like grip. "Liz," he said, relieved. "Welcome home."
Liz didn't look the least bit surprised to see him awake. The siblings met right in the middle of the foyer where she dropped her suitcase and quickly embraced Roger. He returned the squeeze earnestly.
Unfortunately McGuire also appeared in the doorway. Much to Roger's delight he seemed to be annoyed and agitated.
Ignoring the Irish intruder for now, Roger returned his focus to his sister. "Are you alright?" he asked, soft enough so that his so called brother-in-law wouldn't hear
"Yes, I'm fine. Just tired," she slowly released him and then gave him an incredulous look. "And how long have you been awake for?"
Roger shrugged and replied in a sarcastic tone. "All day. All week. Frankly who knows. The days have started to string together."
"Roger, really." She glared at him, she usually did when he made a comment like that.
What a comfort that glare was at a time like this. But like all comforting things in this house, it did not last. Because the parasite behind them finally decided to speak. And God forbid any Collins went five minutes without hearing the dulcet tones of Jason McGuire .
"Well now," Jason prompted, causing Elizabeth to turn. "Good evening, Roger. Or should I say good morning."
"Good might be an overstatement," replied Roger, dryly.
If that statement bothered McGuire he didn't let it show, still smirking away. "Waiting up for us? How sweet."
Roger didn't dignify him with a response, allowing his gaze to return to Elizabeth. "Well I assume you want to get right to bed, Liz. Well luckily it's been rather dull-"
"Where's Carolyn?"
Her tone was even, but her eyes were wide and almost frantic. She grasped onto Roger's arm and he could feel her nails dig in just so, but he went out of his way not to wince or comment on it. Welcome to the new reality of hiding things from McGuire.
Roger swallowed and gave a nonchalant little shrug. "Oh she's been around, nothing to worry about. Joe Haskell's been keeping an eye on her." In truth he had not really noticed his little niece's absence in his stupor. It was quite difficult to notice anyone else's presence in between popping corks and blackout periods. It was only when Vicki mentioned it did he fully realize that she had vanished from the house.
There was a moment of fear before Vicki reassured him that Carolyn was not somewhere in the middle of nowhere clinging to the back of someone more leather than man. For all his other faults, young Haskell was at the very least dependable and responsible ,so she was in slightly better hands.
Jason clicked his tongue, too loudly. Loud enough for Liz to turn to give him a glare. "Thank you, Roger," she said. "Why don't you get some rest?"
"I think that's a good idea for all of us," Jason interjected. "It was such a long trip, after all."
Once again, Roger pretended he didn't exist. "Are you sure you're alright, Elizabeth?"
A simple question, really. But it meant so much more. Will you be alright? Is this still what you want? What could he do? Please tell him.
Liz's smile was as genuine as a three dollar bill and her tone as sharp as any needle. "I'm fine, Roger. Go to bed."
"Yes sister dear," he teased, and kissed the top of her head. "Till tomorrow." And with a final judging look towards Jason McGuire, Roger forced himself to head upstairs and to his bedroom.
Once Roger had disappeared from sight, Jason sauntered forward. He grasped hold of Elizabeth's elbow causing her to flinch, and wrench her arm away.
"Don't touch me!" she hissed and marched past him, grabbing her luggage and going up the stairs before he could open his big mouth again or make any other sort of pass at her.
Liz simply marched into her bedroom and placed her suitcase onto the floor. Unpacking was a task for later, she had the rest of her family to check in on. First she crept to David's room. The decision to not include her little David in the wedding was one she was beyond grateful for. She shuddered to imagine the poor boy in the center of that circus. Liz remembered the sorrow in his eyes when his father told him he would be spending the time with Mrs Johnson, but it had fluttered away quickly when she promised a special outing again; just the two of them. She hoped he was sleeping: it was so terribly late. Luckily, when she peeked in she saw a little lump snuggled under the blankets and pillows; snoring sweetly.
She closed the door and crept down the hallway to Vicki's room. There was no light stretching and straining from the opening on the bottom, no sound of movement from the other side. So a small glance inside only exposed the darkness and Vicki's form resting in the bed. Liz started to close the door quietly, but Vicki quickly sat up.
"Mrs Stoddard? Is that you?" she called, voice ever so hesitant and clearly ringed with restlessness.
Liz stepped in further, if only to make herself more visible. "Yes Vicki, but go to sleep dear. We'll talk later."
Vicki violently shook her head. "Wait, please. Just one thing. I just want you to know that I called Carolyn, so she knows you're back."
Liz stood there. Stiff. Silent. Waiting for dread in her stomach for whatever Vicki might say next.
The young woman continued. "I'm sure she'll come home now that you're here. Joe said he'd drive her."
Silence still.
Vicki's voice cracked. "Mrs Stoddard?"
Liz's body was lost in the shadows now, as Vicki's eyes refused to adjust. The door creaked but her gentle voice softly replied: "Thank you Vicki, please rest." And then the gentle tap of the door being closed shut. Vicki was back to being hidden beyond her door, and Liz stood with her fingers lightly resting on wooden paneling.
One, two, three deep breaths later, she continued her tour of the upper east wing. Roger was snoring, Mrs. Johnson unseen, and Carolyn's door stood as a merciful barrier between the mistress of Collinwood and the painfully empty room behind it.
Four O'clock, and all was well. As well as they could be. Elizabeth slowly walked back to her own room, a place she missed more than she ever expected to. In the dark, one hand struggled with the buttons on her jacket while the other turned the door handle. She had just freed herself from the woolen confines and stepped inside, just beginning to pull the door shut.
And there, silhouetted in the moonlight of her large windows was Jason McGuire. Waiting.
"What are you doing here?" Her arms were crossed with her fingernails just digging into her sleeves just hard enough to be noticed. On the defensive, as per usual.
"Going to bed," he said with his teeth clenched. It was practically a growl. "Oh come now Liz, not here too."
But she did not waver. "You still have your room with a view, I hate to take it from you," One hand pressed against the wood of her door and slammed it all the way open. "Get out."
"Liz—"
"I said get out," This time her voice cracked, just enough. "I am never going to share a room with you. Are we clear? I'll endure being Mrs. McGuire but it is in name only . So don't expect me to act like your wife in whatever disgusting way you were thinking." Her eyes, oh those green eyes how they glistened. She wouldn't dare let any tears fall though. Not in front of him.
"I'm your husband, Elizabeth," he reminded her. "Till death do us part,"
"Thank God for that, at least. "
He straightened his back, glaring downward. "And what do you mean by that?"
"That it will be quite a cold day in hell before I let you stay in my bed."
She watched his face as it softened, as it so rapidly did when he wanted to butter her up. Like how gum melted onto a sidewalk. "Now Liz, I thought we said you'd be agreeable."
Liz didn't even bother to scoff, but stepped closer, tightly clenched fists thrown down at her side. "I'm not going around in circles with you. I am too tired and I want to go to bed."
The shadows of her bedroom fell menacingly across his forehead. "This can't be forever, Elizabeth. But because I'm feeling generous I'll allow it. For now." Despite the threat he stepped away, clasping his hands behind his back. "You're welcome."
"How kind of you," she spat. "You truly never change, Jason. You're as horrid as you were all those years ago."
Jason let out a short, hollow chuckle. "Your memory leaves something to be desired. From what I recall—" he leaned in, about to move but something stopped him cold. "…Goodnight, Liz."
She stared ahead.
He huffed and moved past her. Then he halted. "I won't hurt you Liz. On that, you have my word." He didn't turn his head, but he could hear her scoff. "Believe it or not."
The door then slammed behind him. Hard
The hallway was mercifully empty. Only spider webs in corners and dust particles that Mrs. Johnson had failed to attend to. Jason strode with his usual swagger; a long stride and chin raised. Collinwood always seemed more unfriendly at night. Not that it was all warm and cuddly in the daylight. But all the creeps and jitters seemed amplified in the moonlight. The floorboards creaked under his footsteps, the paintings of long-dead Collinses staring with eyes that seemed to follow him. He had gotten comfortable with it. Mostly. At least he could leave it at any time; securely now. Unlike….
He paused outside the guestroom he had claimed as his own. Unlike Liz . Eighteen years. That was still maddening to him. Sure, he told her not to let anyone in the basement but he didn't expect her to take it so far. She took that key and locked herself up.
Hell, when he heard from the supposed good people of Collinsport about Liz's self imprisonment, he had to keep his jaw from going slack.
Well now, surely now that they were married, now that everything was secure and settled; dear Liz wouldn't mind re-entering the world, now would she?
Jason grinned as he walked into his room, ideas swirling in his mind. Yes. The world and Elizabeth needed to be reacquainted and he was just the man to bring them back together. And with Liz becoming more agreeable as she ventured into the out-of-doors, well, he'd had every advantage to get exactly what he wanted.
"You sure you don't want me to come in?" Joe asked softly. "I don't mind."
Carolyn shook her head. "No, I'll be fine."
"Try—" he sighed. "Look, please try to make up with your mother." Mrs Stoddard wasn't going to let that snake kick Carolyn out. He had faith in that. But he knew that fear still lingered over Carolyn every hour her mother was away. "Just be careful, okay?"
She smiled at him, but it sure as hell didn't meet her eyes. His car pulled up to a little side path that led to the garage, formerly known as the carriage house. The pair just exchanged a look, not saying much but really what else needed to be said?
Carolyn slowly exited the car, and made her way up some ancient flagstones to the kitchen's side door. Unlocked. Good ole Vicki. The house was dark so hopefully all living people were asleep and it was just the ghosts she had to deal with. Carolyn tiptoed around the breakfast nook, through the kitchen, and down a short hallway to one of the little servant stairways up to the second floor. No one was around. Not even a sneaking David.
It was hard to tread quietly at Collinwood with its floorboards made from wood from the ancient days. But she was an old pro at creeping now at age knew every song the floor could sing and with what pressure would cause it to croak and croon. Avoiding all trouble spots she made it to her bedroom at the end of the hallway. Trepidation filled her over what she would or wouldn't find but she steeled her heart, opened the door, and found:
" Mother ?"
Elizabeth Collins-Stoddard was in her nightdress, her hair down, makeup removed and asleep on Carolyn's bed. But clearly that sleep was not sound or deep as she woke instantly once she heard her daughter's voice; sitting up slowly.
"Darling?" Her voice was rough. "I thought—I was worried that—"
"No, no Mother." Carolyn quickly shut the door behind her. "I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere." She walked over to the side of her bed, sitting down beside her mother and plastering a smile on her face. "That is, if you want me here."
Elizabeth's eyes went wide, holding her daughter's hands in her cold, cold fingers. "Of course I want you here." She bit down on her lower lip and took a deep breath. "Darling, about the wedding…" she trailed off.
Carolyn quickly pulled away and stood. "Mother, I don't want to talk about that yet."
"But we must!" Liz clasped her hands together, pressing them tightly against her chest, her eternal nervous habit. "I know you thought you were helping me, I do. But to go to that extreme-"
"I'm not sorry about it! If that gun went off, we'd all be better off."
"If that gun went off, you'd be in jail!" Liz was shouting now. " In jail for murder! Murder, Carolyn! How could I live with myself if my child was locked away because of me? I couldn't bear it. Not for one moment! I'd die, don't you understand that?"
It was an explosion of emotion, raw and painful that she couldn't even bother to keep them in check. Never in her life did she ever want Carolyn to see her like this. No; Elizabeth had to be a strong woman. The family cornerstone. Always. But the more she thought about that night, what might have happened, what her beloved child almost did. It was too much for any loving mother to handle. "I'd die if that happened to you."
It was a realization that both Stoddard women seemed to have come together. And they fell into each other's arms in near tears and apologizing for everything under the sun.
Liz cupped Carolyn's face in her hands. "I don't want us to fight anymore."
Carolyn nodded, not moving to wipe her eyes just yet. "Oh Mother, there's so much I have to apologize for. I said some horrible things to you, and I don't expect you to forgive me."
"It doesn't matter what you do, Carolyn," Liz soothed. "You know that. I'll always forgive you."
Those words stabbed Carolyn deep in her heart, but she pushed through. "Jason wanted me gone," she admitted. "He said you would agree with him."
She watched her mother's jaw clench. "Jason needs to learn that he doesn't run this house. Married or not."
Carolyn wanted to believe her, to erase that doubt in her heart. And she nearly could. The fire in Elizabeth's eyes made her nearly believe. Time was going to tell, wasn't it? "Mother, it's late. We should try to get some sleep."
"You too." Liz agreed. "Oh, and as for Mister Hackett-"
Carolyn rolled her eyes. "Consider the wedding on hold, Mother."
The tension slightly eased in her mother's shoulders. Liz pressed a kiss to Carolyn's forehead. "I love you, darling. Try to rest."
"Love you back," Carolyn whispered, lingering a moment before allowing her mother to step back and away. Out of the room. And shutting the door behind her. She sat on the edge of her bed and fell backwards, arms outstretched. She looked up at her ceiling, as if it held the answers of what the future was going to hold. But only the blank expanse stared back, almost mockingly. Silly Carolyn, it seemed to say, that would be too easy. Carolyn gripped her pillow by its corner and flung it onto her face. She pressed it tightly against her and screamed, the sound muffled and vibrated only on her mouth.