X
X
X
X
Becca knocked on the door and waited for a response.
"Wilson, go away! I don't-" Becca opened the door and Mary stopped. "I'm sorry. I thought you were Wilson."
"I heard." Becca smiled weakly. "Do you think we could talk?"
"I guess." Mary sighed as Becca walked over and sat down in the chair. "I'm sorry, this is weird."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. I mean, you're dead."
Becca laughed and moved her hair off of her shoulders. "So are you."
"Yeah. But, I never met you. You've always been dead. And now you're here, and you're sixteen, and it's weird." Mary looked down at her hands. "I feel like the other woman."
"That's because you are." Mary wasn't amused. "Sorry, I was just trying to make a joke. Guess it wasn't funny."
"Did he send you in here?"
"No, I wanted to see you. I'd wanted to come since you got here, but I was trying to give you some space. I'm sorry about what Billy did. He doesn't understand."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that. Billy understands a lot more than people give him credit for."
"Like when he told you that Wilson loved you?"
Mary raised her eyebrows. "You know about that?"
Becca nodded. "I saw it. I watched them all the time. I was the only one from my family up here, except for some drunk uncle that I never really knew who found Jesus and then died. I used to be really lonely. I spent most of my time watching them. So, in the process, I've seen you- which makes this a lot weirder for me than it does for you."
"What did you see?" Mary wasn't mad, more like intrigued.
"Oh, tons of things. I saw Wilson meet you. I saw your first date. I saw him break up with you. I saw you two in Buffalo. I saw you the last few months. Pretty much everything."
Mary's mind flashed to that tape of her that circulated through the GlenOak Police Department a month ago. "Everything?"
Becca smiled. "Not everything. I do have some morals."
"So is that what you wanted to see me about? To tell me that you know all about me?"
"No. I wanted to say thank you."
She didn't get it. "For what? Stealing your family?"
"For taking care of Wilson and Billy. They were so happy when you were around. I know you guys never actually married, but you were always the mother I couldn't be to Billy and the wife I couldn't be to Wilson."
"You make it sound like I did something great. I didn't."
"Yes you did. I'm sure you don't see it, but you did what many women never would have done. You saw Wilson for himself and not just some pathetic widow or some screwed up teenager."
"To be honest, that was one of the things that first attracted me to him. He was interesting. He had a past. He was broken. …I was still whole when I met him. I wanted to take care of him. Then it ended up being the other way around."
"That's not what he's said."
"What does he say about me to you?"
She started laughing. "He told me that he wasn't sure if I'd like you or not. That you were a good girl. I never was and he knew that."
"You weren't? He talked about you as if-"
"As if I was a God?"
Mary laughed a little. "Yeah, sort of."
"Wilson would never say a bad thing about me- ever. But how do you think I ended up getting pregnant at sixteen by a freshman?"
Mary shrugged. "Things happen."
"No, things happen to people like Wilson. Because of people like me. My parents hated me, for no real reason, and I guess I decided to give them a reason to hate me. I was never home, I drank a lot, I slept around, I dated guys way too old for me."
"So then how did Wilson end up with you?"
"Wilson wasn't the guy that you know now. He wasn't even the guy you met when you were in high school. He had the makings of being that guy, but he wasn't there yet. At least not until after he met you. When I met Wilson, he was the big-shot swimming prodigy. It was a shame that he had to give that up. Anyway, he'd go out to the parties and drink and stuff. He was this little popularity-hungry kid. Well, he wasn't that little. He was about 5' 7" then.
"I was someone else's girlfriend, and he'd still talk to me. For hours. He was just your typical high school guy, nothing special. But that was nothing compared to after I died. He'd have these bouts of self-loathing depression. Sometimes he wanted to spend every second with Billy, others he wanted nothing to do with him all. He didn't go out a lot, but when he did he just wouldn't come home. He'd go out and drink a lot and started sleeping with lots of girls. He became something of a legend and he used that to his advantage."
Mary couldn't believe it. "Did he tell you all of this?"
"I saw most of it. But I asked him about it and he didn't deny it."
"So what snapped him out of it?"
"I don't really know. He said that he just woke up one day and realized that he was a father and he had to start taking pride in his life. I'm not sure if I believe him."
"Was it the grief counseling maybe? He said that helped a little."
"Maybe. My theory is that he let go of the idea that anything he could ever do would bring me back."
"But he still carried you with him. At any given moment you could just look at him and know he was thinking about you."
"That was just guilt," Becca admitted reluctantly.
"I don't think so. He spoke about you with passion, not just sadness."
Becca shrugged. She wasn't so sure about that. "Did you ever get jealous of me? I know if I was in your position I would have."
"No. I understood that him loving you didn't mean that he loved me any less."
"He really did love you. He still does. And I think what you had was better than what he and I did. Wilson kind of grew into loving me. He loved you from the moment he saw you."
Mary blushed a little. "No, he didn't."
"Yes, he did. Close your eyes and think back to that first day you met him. He loved you more than anything."
"I feel like I need to apologize for that."
"What, him loving you? Don't."
"Why not? If it was the other way around, and I finally had my husband back, and then you showed up, I'd hate you."
"I don't hate you."
"Why not?"
"Because you looked out for them when I couldn't."
X
X
X
X
A/N: I did some total Wilson character assassination in this, which I am still grappling with. That whole thing was an idea I was toying with, but it doesn't seem to be at all conducive to the type of father he ended up being once he met Mary at the park that day. And a lot of this chapter was just rehashing my other story, and for that I apologize, but Mary never knew any of that stuff (not that it was real, I just made it up.) Now she does. Yet again, another interesting concept that didn't turn out anywhere near how I wanted it to be.
Next chapter is the last one. It's short and leaves you hanging in a "there was no possible ending to this story" kind of way. It actually isn't 100 horrible. Just about 60. That's an improvement I'd say.
X
X
X
Would you be willing to take care of Wilson and Billy? Review and tell me.
X
X
X