A Way Home

Chapter 8 – I'm Sorry

"I'm sorry that/ I forgot/ I'm sorry that/ I wasn't there/ I'm sorry that/ it had to end this way/ I'm sorry that/ I ran away/ I'm sorry that/ you're all alone/ I'm sorry that/ I forgot your special day/ But someday/ all this may change;/ all this will be rearranged/ But our lives will never be the same/ I'm sorry that/ I missed your spotlight/ I'm sorry that/ the room is empty/ I'm sorry that/ by the end of the day/ it will be too late."

– I'm Sorry, Fuzzy-Pamplemousse

-

I smiled to myself as I sat in the carriage. I knew that I was going to see my family again. For me, it had only been about a week, but for them, it had been ten years. I wondered if Erik would recognize me. I knew that Charity and Dominique wouldn't, but if Erik didn't, then my quest would be hopeless. I doubted that he would have forgotten what I looked like, but I still didn't want to take any chances, so I had worn the same dress I had been wearing when I had left. It was the last dress he had seen me in, so he would be sure to recognize me.

The taxi carriage stopped, and the driver got out. I handed him some money (I had kept some with me from before I had gone back into the future), and then I walked past the fountain. It was a beautiful marble one, and I had persuaded Erik to fix it up so that it could be used again. It was still running, even after ten years had passed without Erik's care.

I gazed around the garden. The garden had been Erik's pride and joy. He had been very proud of it, as he expressed himself through it. He didn't write music much anymore – or, at least, he hadn't before I left – but he and I had sung a little every now and then, to help Charity sleep, and sometimes just to each other. I was always the one who was off-key, but he had said he loved it anyway, because it was from my heart.

I went up the steps and knocked on the door. I heard someone's footsteps, and I smoothed out my dress. I looked a little frumpy, but it couldn't be helped. I was so nervous. What would they say? Who would answer the door? All this was running through my mind as the person's footsteps grew louder.

-

"You get your butt into that tub, or I'm gonna leave this here person at the door and spank your hiney!" Maria threatened menacingly as she approached the front door. Dominique giggled at the empty threat, and she ran off, still in her play dress. She may have been ten years old, but she still was allowed to have some fun.

Maria sighed and rolled her eyes. The child was impossible! She spotted Charity, and stopped her.

"Miss, could you please get your sister into the tub?" She asked.

"Sorry, Maria," Charity said, her face still long and forlorn. The child hadn't been happy once since she had come there. Maria didn't know why, but she was sure it had something to do with the child's parents. "She doesn't listen to me. She's more likely to listen to you, than me."

The doorbell rang, and someone knocked on the door.

"Well, then, you get the door, alright?" Maria said.

"Sure," Charity said, and she moved towards the door. She unlocked it, opened it, and stood there with her mouth hanging open like a codfish.

-

"Dominique?" I asked, shocked that the woman who had helped me into the twenty-first century was here. "What are you doing here."

"Am- am I dreaming?" She stuttered in disbelief.

"No," I said. "I got lost in the time stream, and the machine was damaged, so I couldn't go back to the right time. I came here to find my family. What are you doing here?"

"Charity, who is it?" A voice called from inside. The young woman turned her head towards the voice.

"No one, Maria. Be right there," she called, and then she stepped out onto the steps. "You were supposed to come right back, at the exact time," she said to me.

"Charity?" I asked suddenly. "Your name is Charity?"

She didn't answer me. Instead, she started walking, and I joined her. "When I was small, I was put in an orphanage. I escaped with my sister, and we lived on the streets since then. I had forgotten about my parents. Well, not completely, I hadn't, but enough that I hated the very memory of my father, and mourned my mother." She stopped walking and turned to me. "You have to understand the position I was in," she said. "If there was a terrible event in your life, one that changed your whole life for the worse, wouldn't you want to take a chance to change it, and bring back that person who you lost as a child?" She asked.

"Of course," I said. "But sometimes, when we change the past, we change the future, and make it worse." I was thinking about my mother, my real mother, being a drug addict, and me being left with my aunt and uncle, who I then started to call mother and father.

"Yes," she said, "my name is Charity. And I went back in time to save my mother from dying."

She looked at me for a moment, and then buried her face in her hands. I heard her sobbing, and I knew that she was crying. I put my arms around her and hugged her. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, and realised that I was crying, too. "Oh, my baby," I whispered. My daughter had been the one to help me to the future. What a revelation.

"I'm so sorry that I wasn't there," I said, thinking of Charity being in the horrible orphanages. How terrible. I could only imagine what she must have gone through. And her sister as well. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't be there for you when you were growing up," I said. I held her at arms length and looked at her. "You're a grown woman now," I said, " and I missed it all. I'm so sorry." I hugged her again.

"Rebecca?" A soft voice asked.

I released Charity from my hug, and turned to see Erik standing not too far away. With a cry I ran to him and buried my face in his chest. My husband. My wonderful husband. I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him tight. I would never let him go again.

"It's really you," he whispered in a voice of awe, and he hugged me back. "I can't believe it." He released me and looked down at my face, tilting my chin to look up at him. "Why didn't you come for me?" He asked, and then I realised that he was feeling abandoned.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "But I had no control over the machine."

"I don't understand," he said.

I opened my mouth, and then had an idea. From what Charity had said, she was feeling very much the same way that Erik was. I knew that Erik probably wanted me to tell him what had happened, but just at that moment, I thought that he needed to be with his daughter.

"Come here," I said, beckoning to Charity, who had stayed where she was, shuffling her feet and looking uncomfortable.

She came and stood beside me.

"Why don't you tell your father what happened?" I suggested.

"But it's your story to tell," she protested.

I shook my head. "It's yours," I said, "because you were the one who saved me."

"What?" Erik asked, looking from me to Charity.

"She'll explain it all," I said. "Right now, I have to find my other little one." I turned to leave.
"You'll probably find her running around in a filthy dress somewhere," Charity called to me, "or, if Maria actually got her to take a bath, you'll find her in her room, in a bathtub."

"Thanks," I said, and I came back to give her a big hug. It felt so weird being a mother of a teenaged daughter, when only what seemed like a few years ago, I was a teenaged daughter. It was all so strange.

I went to the house and knocked on the door again, leaving Charity and Erik alone to talk. Henri opened the door and did exactly the same thing that Charity had done when she had first seen me.

"Rebecca?" He asked in disbelief.

"C'est moi," I said, throwing up my hands with a smile on my face. I was home again, and although I couldn't make up for lost time, I still felt like I belonged. It would just take a while for my children to get used to it again.

Henri led me into the house, and directed me to the room where Dominique was. I entered the room after giving a light rap on the door. Maria looked up from where she was standing with a soft towel, wrapping it around Dominique.

"Hello, Maria," I said, "long time, no see." I smiled lightly.

"Mon Dieu," Maria breathed, and she dropped the towel into the bathwater.

"Maria!" Dominique screamed, and she picked up the sopping towel, covering herself with it before anything could be seen. "Ce n'est pas gentile!" She protested.

"Oh, je m'excuse, ma belle," Maria said, and she quickly fetched another towel. I covered my eyes, as Dominique didn't know who I was, and would be very embarrassed if I were to see her naked. I knew what it was like to be a young girl, whose mother is fussing over her way too much. It had happened to me, so I didn't want to be the one to do it to either of my daughters.

Once Dominique was behind the screen, and Maria was helping her get dressed, I set to work dumping the bathwater. By the time Dominique had finished dressing, the bathwater had been thrown away, and the room was no longer smelly musty and muggy from her bath.

She came out in a simple dress, but it was one that made me smile broadly. I had been the one to make that dress. It wasn't the most stunningly beautiful dress, but it was pretty, and I knew that Maria had probably forced Dominique to wear it. I could tell by the girl's expression that she was not happy.

"Dominque," Maria said, "this is your mother." She smiled at Dominque, who gaped at me, just as Charity and Henri had.

"Charity is going to be so surprised," was all she said. I could tell that she was feeling awkward, as she had never known me. But, still, I had known her, even if it was for only a few days, and I knew that if I spent time with her – and with Charity – I would get to know both of them as well as I would if I had never left.

"Hello, Dominique," I said. I squatted on my legs so as to be able to face her. Her head already went up to my shoulder, and I could tell that she was going to be tall, like her father. She was only ten, and she was only half a head shorter than me. She would definitely be tall like her father. "I love you," I said, knowing that she needed to hear it.

"Forgive me if I don't say the same," she said, "but I never knew you the way Charity did. I find it difficult feeling love for someone who I have never known."

As much as her words pained me, I knew they were true. I thought of what I had said to my mother when I had been in the twenty-first century, albeit briefly. What I had said had hurt her, but it had been the truth.

Still, though, I couldn't help but wonder if this was just a façade.

"Will you forgive me for not being there for you?" I asked. I couldn't help it, but my face was turning red, which meant that I was about to cry. I didn't want Dominique to think I was trying to goad her into giving me a hug.

But she smiled at me, and said, "Of course." Then she gave me a hug anyways. I squeezed her tight. I just hoped I wasn't strangling her.

A/N: Thinking that it's almost over? Maybe, maybe not… okay, it's definitely not over. There's still more to come, and (not likely, but possibly), another in the series. I'm considering it, but I still don't know for sure. Anyways, please review, and here are the translations:

1. "It's me."

2. "My God."

3. "That's not nice!"