Chapter 225: The Storm Before the Calm

Sunday, January 22nd, Morning

(Song lyrics in italics)

Andrew came out onto the porch. He found Kelly leaning on one of the columns. She was dressed in works boots, battered jeans, and a heavy Carhart jacket to fight the cold. Andrew noted she held a mug in her bare hands and looked in the inlet.

"I saw you on Be Heard today," Andrew said.

"Was it when Cara and I screened for Kay to win the championship?" Kelly asked.

"Yes," Andrew said, "How did you know?"

"What other play would they show that I was in?" Kelly asked.

"Gee, biter much?" Andrew asked.

Kelly shook her head, "No, I've just been thinking since before the crack of dawn," she said.

"About what?" Andrew asked.

"I went up to the Kilpatrick Farm, just before I left for the game," Kelly said.

"And?" Andrew asked.

"The girls' weren't there, so I got a chance to see Holden," Kelly said.

"Is it bad as Huck reported?" Andrew asked.

Kelly shook her head, "No," she said.

"That's good, I suppose," Andrew said.

"It's worse," Kelly said.

"On my," Andrew said, avoiding swearing, "What's going to happen?"

Kelly sighed, "That's what I've been kicking over here, what to do," she said.

"You have to do what's right," Andrew said.

"I know, I came to that conclusion, and have been working out when I'm making the call," Kelly said.

Andrew nodded, "So, when?" he asked.

"Tomorrow," Kelly said.

"So, if you worked it out, why are you out here?" Andrew asked.

"I'm trying to teach myself to live with the choice," Kelly said.

"Oh," Andrew said.

"I'll be in, in a moment, just let me get through this, alone, we'll talk about it later, and turn on the radio, please," Kelly said.

"Okay," Andrew said, went inside, but before he did, he turned on the radio.

Inside this cold heart is a dream
That's locked in a box that I keep

Buried a hundred miles deep


Sunday, January 22nd, Early Afternoon

Bittersweet, that's what it was, Ashlyn reflected as she passed through security and slipped back on her shoes. Ashlyn enjoyed her time with James and even caught herself thinking about doing it full time. After the initial few days, weeks, or months, the dissatisfaction would return.

After finding her gate, she walked over towards a coffee shop. Ordering her coffee, she returned to the gate via the newsstand. Ashlyn purchased some bubble gum and a B. Davis magazine.

Once at the gate, she settled in. Opening the magazine, she started to look at the various articles, and she sipped her coffee.

Five days and no basketball games to coach, Ashlyn reflected. What followed the break were four games in twelve days, the last four games of the season. The second to the last game will be the final home game for the seniors. Brett, Baylee, and Avril will be gone.

Ashlyn sighed and looked down at the magazine. That meant this summer she's moving Brett into Norte Dame. Who is going to make the trip? It would be too odd, many parents co-parent, but how many have a giant ginger, an NBA all-star, an ex-New York Socialite, and Ashlyn for parents. If anyone could handle it, it would be Brett; it's been her whole life.

Maybe Chase would finally let Brett off the hook. Ashlyn knew she was tough on her oldest, but she didn't want her to make the same mistakes and to lose her family in the process.

Ashlyn sighed; she missed Savannah. Every so often, Savannah, whom Ashlyn never totally got along with, would visit her. She got to know her niece and nephew, Joplin and AB. Thank God she didn't use the Pierce naming convention, like Savannah did, but Katy could have been a nice name. The visits from Savannah stopped four years ago, and that's when the cold war with her parents turned hot again.

Seeing that old man again didn't help. Over the years, there was nothing, but now he shows up to be in her life. Where was he when she returned from Atlanta with a knee that aged to an age she still hadn't reached. Where was he when she raised the kids alone, while James won NBA Titles.

The call to board her flight cut off her thoughts, saved by the bell, Ashlyn reflected. Ashlyn collected her stuff and headed towards the gate to check-in and head home to Tree Hill.

Deep in my soul in a place that's surrounded by aeons of
silence

And somewhere inside is the key
To everything I want to feel


Sunday, January 22nd, Early Afternoon

The book slammed shut, and Brooke carefully removed her eyeglasses. She needed them for reading, but she didn't need people knowing she wore them. Looking down at the table, she saw her second oldest reading something. Izzy looked up at her mom.

"I take it you figured it out," Izzy said.

"It was tough, but I got everyone fitted into the East Range," Brooke said.

"That would be, me, Kay plus one, Candi plus two, Karen and Andy, Angela and Jess, Trin and Wyatt, did I miss anyone?" Izzy asked.

"The hardest part in Candi's party needs three rooms," Brooke said.

"Well, it will be a full house at Beaulieu; when was the last time it happened?" Izzy asked.

"You're second wedding," Brooke said.

"It was a re-commitment ceremony because Keith had to report, that's why we got married the way we did," Izzy said.

"The courthouse?" Brooke asked.

"It wasn't a courthouse, and it was beautiful," Izzy said.

"In the minimalist municipal sort of way," Brooke said.

"It wasn't municipal. Well, you got to make me a Beaulieu Bride when Keith came back," Izzy said.

Brooke nodded, "So, speaking of the past," she said.

"Here it comes," Izzy said.

"Who is Jessalyn Wettin?" Brooke asked, "Also, why does she have Chase worried?"

Izzy sighed, "She's Jessalyn Windsor if you remember my junior year," she said.

"The girl you broke her nose?" Brooke asked.

"That was Daria and Ashlyn broke her nose," Izzy said.

"The girl you beat up at the basketball game?" Brooke asked.

"Not my proudest moment, but yes," Izzy said.

"Chase is worried about some sort of revenge?" Brooke asked.

"It's possible, if things hadn't changed, she could be rather spiteful," Izzy said.

"Revenge, I remember those days, it got me nowhere," Brooke said.

"I hope you're right," Izzy said and nodded.

But the dark summer dawns of my memory
Are lost in a place that can never be

Can someone please show me the way?


Sunday, January 22nd, Evening

She was sitting in her parlor floor living room with several large books opened before her. Fallon looked out the front windows onto Waverly Place. The world outside was alive, and that's the world of the Village. Finally, Fallon turned back to the books and picked one up.

Looking it over the ledgers, these were for the Stafford Foundation. She made sure it was the proper ones and not the set she suspected Tanner kept to show her. The print outs were long and dull. She did know there were two accounts that the money donated came. One, and where most of the money donated came from was the Godfrey Endowment. That was the money Godfrey Stafford; her four-time great-grandfather, started the foundation. The other pool of funds was donations given to the foundation for worthy causes, which was usually a smaller amount.

About halfway down the spreadsheet, Fallon stopped and tapped a number with her finger's tips. She saw that number before. Looking back, she found it. Fallon slowly double-checked it two or three times and noticed the donation account has been larger than the endowment recently. That was seldom heard of in her history as a patron.

Slowly, now with a finer tooth and sharper eye, she went over the previous year month by month. The money came in from a company called Humbert Ltd. The same amount of money would go out a month later to Nabokov International. Neither of these names Fallon had heard before. With the dollar amounts being passed around by the foundations charter, she must and signed off on the donation.

Fallon got up and walked over the stairs, and went to the library on the 3rd (Second) Floor. She walked over to her safe and accessed it, pulling three monthly reports from the foundation from last year. Fallon returned to the living room and opened the accounts.

With a careful eye, she checked them out and nodded. Something wasn't right here. Carefully, she packed everything up and secured it in her safe. Fallon double-checked that her pistol permit was up to date and loaded her personal protective weapon.

Next, she went to the alarm panel and set the alarm to its top security level. Fallon wanted to be careful and couldn't trust anyone in the Stafford Organization or at the foundation. That meant face to face time with one of the few people she truly trusted.

Carefully, she shut down the elevator in her townhouse and headed up to her bedroom. Fallon locked her bedroom door and put her pistol on the pillow beside her in bed. There is only one thing we say to death, not today, Fallon reflected as she laid down.

Can someone please help me?


Sunday, January 22nd, Evening

Its Sunday, and after the grandkids returned to their mom, Lucas had time. He often found himself going for a drive or taking in a bad movie. Today he found himself in a diner drinking coffee.

He looked out onto the streets and could see the town building up for the basketball playoffs. That was what Lucas liked about this diner; they either didn't know who he was or didn't care. He would be left alone here to read the paper, drink his coffee, or eat a meal.

He was looking over the sports page. The NFL Conference Championship Games were today. Unfortunately, the Panthers weren't in the playoffs, again. He shrugged; he would watch the NFL on occasion but not enough to consider himself a hardcore fan.

Next, he checked the hockey scores. Lucas needed to brush up since Trin is coming home, and for some reason, she loves the Hurricanes. There's going to be hockey on one of the TVs if they are playing. Lucas noted something and thanked God; the all-star break was during Trin's visit.

The Hornet's won last night against Brooklyn. That's three in a row for the Hornets; they might be able to string something together there, Lucas reflected. Miami won yesterday as well, that's good; James and Company are starting to string something games together, that's good.

Lucas sighed, no word on where his sister is going to play this up and coming season. Lucas almost had money on her staying in Brooklyn, but a return to Atlanta was an outside chance.

Lucas shook his head and put the paper down. He looked at his coffee mug and wondered if he should brave another cup of de-cafe.

That was when his smartphone buzzed. Lucas thought Brooke was pulling the lease tight, again. Izzy's in the house, so the grandkids were with their mom. Also, Sawyer is fifteen and doesn't want to be with her dad all the time. He looked at his smartphone and saw the name, Fallon Stafford. That peeked and eyebrow; he opened the text.

Fallon: Need to talk while down there. I can't explain, but very important.

One of the oddest texts he had ever gotten. Shrugging, he sent back his response.

Lucas: Okay, name the place and time.

Fallon replied.

Fallon: I will, later, face to face.

Lucas nodded, shrugged, and sent his reply.

Lucas: Okay.

Next, Lucas orders another cup of coffee, de-café.

For I cannot see and the silence is raging


Sunday, January 22nd, Afternoon

The light weakly shined through the window panes. Slowly, it moved across the sill of the bay window. Sawyer noticed that the sun was trying to heat the world, but it wasn't making much headway.

Turning around from the window, Sawyer saw Keni lying on the bed. Sawyer shrugged and adjusted her off the shoulder sweatshirt; her sports bra strap was visible as the sweatshirt resettled. Keni looked up at Sawyer, putting a bookmark in the book about Area 51 she's reading.

"What's on your mind?" Keni asked.

"A lot of things," Sawyer said.

"Like?" Keni asked.

"I get asked out all the time, but you don't," Sawyer said.

"I wouldn't say that," Keni said.

"I've just not noticed, or you've never mentioned," Sawyer said.

"Most guys come over to talk to you when we're together," Keni said, "And the group dating thing turns them off. Thank God we'll be sixteen next year."

"Which I don't get," Sawyer said, "Anyways, you're way hotter than me."

Keni shrugged, "I don't believe that," she said.

"What do you mean?" Sawyer asked.

"You're blonde, tall, athletic, everything most people find attractive," Keni said.

"What about you?" Sawyer asked.

"I'm short, skinny, and dark before you say anything, I have no curves, where you do," Keni said.

Sawyer walked over to the bed and sat down. Keni locked eyes with Sawyer. Sawyer slowly reached down and took Keni's hand.

"Keni," Sawyer said.

"I've been asked, but nothing I've taken seriously," Keni said, "But that's not what's bothering you."

Sawyer shrugged, "I guess it's because my family is coming home," she said.

"Is that a bad thing?" Keni asked.

"The drama might come back," Sawyer said, "And it's been four years since most of them have come home."

Keni nodded, "Well, we'll have to wait and see," she said.

"Well, hopefully, no drama," Sawyer said, and Keni just nodded.

Silence
Silence
Fade into silence


Sunday, January 22nd, Afternoon

The light coming through the window didn't impress. The northern smog and overcast ate up the light energy making the sky a dull gray pall. This weather isn't anything new and has lived here long enough; she expected it. Trin turned away from the window and looked over the great room.

Wyatt had long since retreated to his room to watch YouTube or Twitch on his tablet. Trin wasn't sure which one it was. One thing she knew was Wyatt missed Ellie. His cousin cum aunt was the one Scott he was the closest.

Trin sighed, and as she finished letting it out, her smartphone started going off. The rhythm of Public Enemies He's Got Game echoed in the great room. Trin pulled out her smartphone and answered it.

"Yes, James?" Trin asked.

"Next Wednesday, I'll be playing at Barclay's; how many tickets?" James asked.

"So soon?" Trin asked, "James, you don't have to do this."

"He's my oldest nephew; I never see him. Anyway, I do want to have a relationship with him," James said.

Trin sighed, "I know, and the usual number, two."

"No, Ellie or Fallon?" James asked.

"Nope, Ellie is already in Tree Hill," Trin said.

"I should have known that Ashlyn told me," James said, "Anyway, still single, Trin?"

"Yes, James, it's difficult being a single mom; not everyone finds the right one," Trin said.

"Good point," James said, "I'll see you Wednesday; tickets will be at will call."

"Thanks, James," Trin said and listened to the phone disconnect. For a long, moment or two, Trin stared at her smartphone. James always had the best interest of her and Wyatt at heart. He's too nice of a guy like that, and also a good of an uncle. But James had the bubble; he lived it.

Trin sighed; maybe he's right; what do I have to lose? Trin reflected. She opened her contacts and flipped through them. She found the one she was looking for and called it. Trin waited for it to connect.

"Hey, what are you doing Thursday Night? Want to go out?" Trin asked, once the party at the opposite end answered.

Silence
Silence
Fade into silence


Sunday, January 22nd, Afternoon

The bad thing about being grounded was the sheer boredom when it came to the lack of technology. Nothing to do but except work out and homework. This week she started and finished a book, a strange biography she found on her dad's shelves, The Black Count.

Her time for the week was coming to an end at Tree Hill Hall. Brett slowly packed her stuff into a bag to go with her to her momma's place, Jamlyn. She sighed and looked out the window onto the trees and inlet that Tree Hill Hall overlooked.

Brett knew about the darker history of this property and knew that the property used to be called Tree Hill Plantation. Brett didn't know the reason her dad would take her into the woods to one of the three cemeteries on the property. This cemetery was the simplest and, in many ways, the most primitive. It was also the only one that her dad maintained himself.

Every so often, someone would arrange to visit that cemetery. If Brett were in residence, her dad would make her come along. They would carry long arms to protect them from the wild predators, but these trips her dad always held in deep reverence, as if it's a religious pilgrimage.

Brett also remembered her dad and Aunt Kelly talking about the yearly donation that the estate made to Shaw University in Raleigh. Her Aunt Kelly told Brett, no matter what, that donation has to be made, every year, on time, and had been since 1970.

"Almost ready?" Chase asked from the door.

Brett nodded, "Yeah," she said.

"What are you thinking about?" Chase asked, picking up on Brett's tone.

"The cemetery in the deep woods," Brett said.

Chase nodded, "Yeah, the scared ground," she said.

"That has to be the original Murphy Cemetery," Brett said.

"It's not a Murphy Family Cemetery, but it's a Murphy Cemetery," Chase said.

"It's not? Then who's buried there?" Brett asked.

"Ask your dad, that's a conversation for him. Anyway, get your stuff, time to bring you to your momma," Chase said.

"Okay," Brett said, turned from the window, and grabbed her bag. She made a mental note to talk to her dad about the cemetery in the deep woods.

Memory
Memory
Inside is the key to a


Sunday, January 22nd, Afternoon

Looking up from her laptop, Ellie saw the weak light coming through the few odd windows. It's Sunday, she's used to working on Sundays, but usually, she would pick a coffee shop, be home, or at some odd library to work. That's not how Sophia Dwerryhouse wanted her to work here. That meant she was assigned to a four-foot by two-foot workstation, positively hell.

She pushed her bangs out of her eyes and sighed. Ellie bent down and re-read the article she's been writing. There was more meat on the bone than her typical fair. She wanted to make sure everything was perfect for the first assignment from her new employer. Ellie looked over God knows what draft this was.

After finishing the last few lines, Ellie nodded; she liked what she wrote. After a deep sigh, Ellie pressed control-p to send the article to the printer. As a pre-caution, Ellie also saved the file.

Standing up, she stretched out her back and walked over to the printers. About halfway to the printer, her Apple Watch binged. Ignoring it, Ellie kept moving towards the printer. Collecting the sheets of paper, Ellie returned to her work station and completed putting together the package that she needed to submit the article when she finished it. Walking over to the back of the office, Ellie placed the package in the inbox and logged it in.

Having a few minutes, Ellie walked over to the coffee station and got herself a cup. Standing there, she looked out the window and drank her coffee. Looking out on to downtown Tree Hill.

Ellie's Apple Watch binged twice in quick succession. Shaking her head, she looked down at it and checked her messages.

Message 1: Winter storm warning for the Cape Fear Region, possibility of two to three inches of snow.

Message 2: Ellie, when are you coming home? I need to let the cook know how many for dinner. Brooke

Message 3: Libby, where are you? Are you ghosting me? I've been looking for you everywhere. Call me! Ainsley.

Ellie shook her head, sipped her coffee, and looked out the window. She sighed, "Some people will never learn," Ellie said, taking another sip of her coffee.

Memory
Memory
Inside is the key to a memory


(BLOG Post in italics)

They say that there is calm before any storm. This is that moment of peace for a time of period of strife or violence. With my life I tend to find the storm comes before the calm. That's just my experience, what is your experience? Comment below.

RavenHussar

T3 Collective


Author's Notes

Welcome to the end of Episode 5, The Storm Before the Calm. This episode is an interesting one for me, and reasonably long. I don't know why, but I enjoyed writing it up to a certain point. As I finish this now, I'm about halfway through a two-week quarantine. The world has changed a lot since I started this Episode so many months ago.

Roughly, it takes me the same number of days as chapters in each part. I try to write at least one chapter per day. During that day, the world I live in caught fire for various reasons. Also, I suffered a personal tragedy near the end of writing this episode. A close friend died in an accident, and I had to travel to his funeral. That is why I'm in quarantine.

I general don't do spoilers. Partially because of all the work I put into it, and I don't want to ruin the story. I do give hints. I've been asked about Peyton in this story. She's an important part of this story, in fact the emotional crux of one of the threads running through this story. So, I can't give it away or the whole story will fall apart. I will say, there are things hinted at, and the devil is in the details.

Several important things to discuss is about the back story. There is coming out most of the back story that I built back over the years, but had no place to use it. It just happens to be fitting with the times today. These were things I had planned out years ago.

The idea of doing the back story of all the girls from Angela and Ashlyn's championship team was just fun, and I can pull out some of that back story. It also makes me flesh out some of the other characters for the readers.

Thank you for your reading and reviews.

Thumper

The Annus Horribilis Secrets

1. Carson Murphy has passed away. (Episode 2)

2. Spencer Churchill "Church" Grady was killed in action as a US Navy Seal and buried in Arlington National Cemetery (aka The Garden). He is also Jessica Ashlyn Scott's Dad. (Episode 4)

3. X

4. X

5. X

6. X

Playlist

In Chapter 184: I Will be Heard by Hatebreed

In Chapter 186: Judas by Fozzy

In Chapter 189: I Will be Heard by Hatebreed

In Chapter 190: Prelude 12/21 by AFI

In Chapter 197: I Will be Heard by Hatebreed

In Chapter 203: I Will be Heard by Hatebreed

In Chapter 210: I Will be Heard by Hatebreed

In Chapter 218: I Will be Heard by Hatebreed

In Chapter 224: I Will be Heard by Hatebreed

In Chapter 225: The Beginning and The End by Anathema

Poems

Translation Guide

In Chapter 182: Banríon is Irish for Queen.

In Chapter 186: Marguerite, Léa peux-tu amener Wyatt, sa mère est là pour lui is French for Marguerite, Léa can you bring Wyatt, his mother is here for him.

In Chapter 186: Oui Maman is French for Yes Momma

In Chapter 186: Au revoir et merci Madame Legrand, Marguerite et Léa, is French for Goodbye and thank you, Madam Legrand, Marguerite, and Léa,

In Chapter 186: Bienvenue, Wyatt, et bonne nuit is French for You're welcome, Wyatt, and have a goodnight,

In Chapter 186: Au revoir, Wyatt, is French for Goodbye, Wyatt,

In Chapter 195: et ursus is Latin for She-bear