She wandered the house. Everything was how it was supposed to be. The old clock was chiming two and the afternoon shown in dappled. She noticed how quite it was until she heard someone at the piano. She rushed upstairs to where the piano had sat. She could hardly let her self believe she was going to see her son again!
A small boy came bounding toward her.
Eliza crouched down and yelled, "Philip!"
"Mama!" the boy shouted.
Philip ran to her and into her arms. Her arms had missed her first born.
"Where have you been?" the boy exclaimed
"Oh darling! I'm back. I'm back," she whispered. She held him so tightly. His curls were out of control and not brushed. In life she would have made him go and brush it but now nothing mattered. Her boy was back after so long. She could smell that he had been running in some field like he had when he was alive.
She was crying when she looked up. No longer the small boy but a young man. A tall man who was now clutching her.
"Philip?" Eliza gasped.
"Hi ma," said the 19 year old.
"But you were a boy a minute ago!" she said confused.
"Yeah, that's how heaven works I guess. You see me how you want to see me," he explained.
Philip looked happy, before he had died. There was no sign of any pain or anguish like when she saw him last. He was still a bit gangly but his boniness didn't bother her.
She embraced him again and never wanted to let go.
"Ma, I know my hair is a mess. I will go brush it," he said.
"No. Don't! Your hair is perfect," she said urgently. She feared if she lost sight of him he would disappear.
"Mama I am so sorry again," Philip said looking at the floor. Now he was suddenly 9 again.
"What ever for sweet heart?" she asked.
"I didn't mean to get hurt! Honest I didn't. I just wanted to be brave like daddy!" Philip cried. He now had tears flowing.
"Oh sweet heart no crying," she said. She wiped his tears and she missed the action of comforting. The children at the orphanage were often too old to cuddle, and all of her other children had long since aged.
Philip looked up and she saw his gleaming eyes. She always loved his eyes. They were like Alexander's, so bright.
"I heard you playing the piano," she said changing the subject.
"Yeah mommy! Wanna watch me?" he asked. Eliza would never grow tired of hearing his small voice.
"Sure. What have you been practicing?" she asked.
"Aunt Angelica taught me this piece last time she visited. Don't remember what it is called though," he smiled.
"Aunt Angelica was always better at teaching you piano," Eliza laughed.
"You were good to. Remember un deux trois quatre…"Philip said before Eliza finished with, "Cinq six sept huit neuf."
She remembered placing her hands on his small hands and guiding his fingers over the keys. She always wished those moments would last forever.
He ran to the piano and began playing. But then he was again 19. As he played Eliza was crying. How much he looked like Alexander she thought.
When the piece was over, Philip turned back around.
"Mother! Why are you crying? "He asked.
"I'm not crying my dear. I am just so proud and happy," she said.
"Mother, I hate to be causing you more pain," Philip said kneeling down in front of his mother. After the age of 11 Philip was almost 6 inches taller then her and 3 inches taller then alexander.
"I just am so happy to see you!" Eliza said.
"Me too!" Philip smiled.
"You are so handsome!" Eliza said. It was true. He could court any woman he would have liked and that girl would be lucky. It had always pained her to send him away to boarding school, but after years he had been molded into a gentleman.
"Ma, you're crying again!" Philip exclaimed.
"I know. I am being foolish!" Eliza said, trying to smile.
"Please tell me," Philip replied.
Eliza saw her son and knew she could not hide it.
"You died too young. You had so much to live for," she answered.
"Oh ma. I know. It is unfair. I didn't want to leave you and father. But I had to defend the Hamilton honor," He said. Philip still just as adamant like his father to keep the pride.
Eliza brushed back his curls. Though she did not have any favorites or gave special treatment, Philip was the one she saw most like alexander. So smart with a dash of foolish pride. But that did not matter. He believed each day would be better and she always knew he would do great things. She remembered the day he was born, wishing he was just like alexander, she also remembered her anger when he died, wishing Philip was nothing like his father.
"Ma?" Philip asked.
"Yes, my darling?" she responded, realizing it had been silent for a while.
"I believe father wants to see you," Philip responded.
"Oh he can wait. I'm here with you," she said. But she knew she had no choice. Philip's short visit was only a bridge to Heaven.
"Daddy said he wants to see you really really bad," Philip said reverting back to his nine year old self.
"Fine, then darling. Can you show me where he is?" she said gently.
"He's just down the hall in his office," Philip pointed vaguely.
"Can you take me?" She asked.
"I guess so," he said grasping her hand.
He led her briskly out of the room and down the hall to the right. Alexander's office was in the farthest part of the house.
Getting closer she could smell, old books and candle smoke.
"Oh, I wonder if I look alright," Eliza whispered without realizing it.
"Mother, you look beautiful. Father is a lucky man. I do not think he would be who he is without you," Philip replied. This time Philip stayed his 19-year-old self.
They reached the old door. Eliza stood there a moment griping her son's hand.
"Ma, he needs you. You need him," Philip said smiling.
"My son. How did I ever get so lucky to have you for a son?" she said turning. She held him again, this time without tears. She was becoming accustomed to this transfer from one person to the next. Now that she knew she would see him again it eased the parting.
"I love you ma," Philip said. Philip opened the door without Eliza being completely ready. Eliza looked in and saw a man hunched over a desk. Papers were everywhere and the man was writing furiously.
The man was wearing his military uniform and was making small sounds of annoyance. Eliza hardly wanted to interrupt but she knew this man, her husband would never stop unless someone broke him out of it.
But to her shock her husband turned around then and said, "Eliza."
That's all for this installment! Sorry if I wrote Philip a little younger than his actual age but I thought it was cuter. Hope you enjoyed this bit. Let me know if you liked it and feel free to leave suggestions for Alexander Hamilton's segment or any future works.