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I crept in to the bed, next to a sleeping Stan. I brushed his brown hair away from his temple and kissed his cheek. He looked like an angel. I traced a scar behind his ear, wondering its story, and kissed collarbone. Suddenly I felt as if I was molesting him and stopped. I snuggled in closer to him. I could feel his breath on my neck and it tickled but I didn't want to move away. That is how I fell asleep.
I awoke in Stan's arms. He would just be stirring, yet he was too stubborn to actually open his eyes. Eventually he would blink his eyes and see me. His grip would tighten on my waist and he would lean in and kiss my forehead as I pretended to be asleep. That is how I woke up.
But that morning I was not awoken by the familiar sense of Stan's lips on my skin. I heard a clawing at the window. A brown barn owl was tapping against the window. It was still dark outside. I looked over to Stan his mouth slightly agape as I took his arms off of me and shuffled to the window. The glass was cold as I opened the window. The owl swooped in, grateful to be getting out of the cold, and stuck out its leg to me. I unraveled the note. The bird waited watching me carefully.
Brooke,
I know you don't want to talk to me. I understand and respect your decision. Yet, I am afraid I have some bad news. Your father is dying. Stacy has just sent me an owl with the news and I am sending the same owl to you. Please come to the house and we will go and see your father together.
Your Mother
I read and reread the letter once, twice, three times. I recognized my mother's writing, much like mine, we did our a's the same way. It seemed funny to me that my mother, after not contacting me for 8 years, had sent me a letter about a man she told me each day that she hated. I remember starting each day of school with that phrase when I was younger, "Have fun, Brooke. Don't play with any idiots like your father." Even though I didn't want to, I knew I had to go and visit with my dad. Even though I hadn't spoken with my father in more than a decade, I knew I would regret it if I didn't visit him. Stan started to turn around in his sleep. I sat on the chair by his desk and watched the sunrise while the owl hooted around me happily. Only when Stan opened his eyes, he seemed to register the fact I was not in the bed.
"Why are you up already?" He asked as he sat up. He looked over towards the owl.
"Stan," I started and took a breath. "Would you like to meet my father?"
We arrived at my mother's house at 7. A note was left in the kitchen for Abby and Mum to read when they started their day. I gripped Stan's hand after our feet touched the ground. We both stayed silent. The house was aligned with the other houses on the street. It seemed happy; it seemed normal. But inside lay my room with my bed where I cried continually throughout my teenage summers. Finally when I seemed ready I pulled Stan along to ring the doorbell. It felt strange, ringing the doorbell I had a key for. It was under the bed, tucked in a page of my diary. I gave a shaky smile to Stan, showing I was all right. He remained melancholy. I knew how he felt about my mom though he had never told me. The door opened seconds later and in it's wake stood my mother. She seemed skinnier than before, her hips still prominent though. Her high forehead was broken out and her brown hair was limp and lanky with gray speckling in it. She pulled me into a hug before I could get any words in. Stan dropped my hand so I could properly hug my mother. She patted my back as if she expected me to cry and my arms hung limply at my sides. She pulled back and smiled at me. She turned to Stan and her smile faded.
"You two are still together?" She asked, her voice tinkling like bells. It didn't match her appearance, it never did. She had been opera singer before she met my dad, she probably could have still been.
"Yes ma'am," Stan said lying with no trace of remorse. I clasped his hand in mine again.
"I thought you would have picked someone more suitable. Someone…human." She said. Her tone, I knew, meant she wasn't trying to be rude. But still I felt Stan stiffen.
"Stan is human, Mother. He is the most caring person I know." Better than you. I wanted to say but didn't. She awkwardly hugged Stan and led us inside where empty cups lay at my kitchen table. I could see the house was almost the same. It held the same pictures, same atmosphere. She quickly filled our cups with tea, which we sipped quietly.
"What's wrong with Dad?" I asked. Although truthfully I wasn't surprised Dad was going so soon. Everyone in his family had died before the age of 60.
"It's his heart. Something that even magic can't fix," She said spitting at the word. I felt like crying again. Stan hand found mine under the table and squeezed it.
"We should get going then," I said standing up. I had only been my dad's house once before. It was a short visit.
"I've looked online and the next plane doesn't leave until tomorrow," My mother said. Stan stared at her blankly.
"We will side-along apparate," I stated and I took her hand. Her face showed fear. She had only done it once before and vomited twice afterward. I told Stan the address and I took my mother's hand again, concentrating on the big house I had seen only once. We arrived seconds later and I looked over to see my mother barf all over the snow. It splattered in every direction. Stan materialized just inches away form the mess. Mother rubbed her hand across her mouth and composed herself. I took out my wand to my mother's surprise and cleaned the mess up. She seemed unimpressed and walked up the concrete porch steps and towards the huge white mansion. My mother was on a mission. I grabbed Stan's hand yet again; grateful I had brought him along. Mother rang the doorbell and a woman with black hair and a sickly complexion answered.
"Stacy," I said coolly. She wrinkled her nose to see I had brought my mother. A muggle, I could hear her sneer in her mind. "This is my Mother, Kate. And this is my boyfriend, Stan. Now where's my dad? If I wanted to talk to an ugly half-blood hater, I would have gone straight to Voldemort." I said. I was even surprised by my eagerness to make Stacy mad. Stan clenched my hand tighter but I had no feelings of remorse. She sneered and led us past several bedrooms, turning left and right down the halls. Mother tried to act confident but I could see her resolution drain when she caught sight of the pictures moving.
"MUGGLE! MUGGLE! MUGGLE!" One portrait kept screaming. Finally we came to stop in front of a white door.
"You may disperse now, Stacy," I said coolly again. She needed no other excuse and took off down the hall, her high heels clicking. Who even wear high heels when they are spending the day at home? Bitch, I thought. I opened the door slowly worried about what I might see. Would I find my Dad hooked up to many machines, barely conscious? A bed lay in the middle of the room with a heart monitor, as I had predicted. But my dad was anything but unconscious. Several house elves were hovered around my Dad. He seemed awake and was talking excitedly to the house elves. When he saw us, a huge smile spread on his face. I couldn't help but smile back. I suddenly wondered if my dad had not contacted me these past years on Stacy's orders only. He had been locked up and that's why he hadn't been able to come and see me.
"Brooke, Kate." He said and I went over and hugged him. He looked over at Stan.
"Young man, who might you be?" He asked pointing to Stan. Stan put his hand out for my father to shake.
"I'm Brooke's boyfriend, Stanley Shunpike." He said in a deep voice. I could tell he was nervous.
"Good man. Good man. Well I've supposed you've heard the bad news. I've only got weeks to live." He said simply. "So here's what we'll do. I'll talk to you one at a time. It's easier that way. People have been coming all week to try and tell me some old regret or secret that hadn't mentioned before. They want to give me a heart attack; I'm starting to think. We'll go by Pureblood first. That's how it should be in the world, always," He said pointing at Stan. I gasped in shock. He wouldn't even talk to his own daughter first? Stan shook his head, his eyes wide.
"No. I think you should talk to your daughter and ex-wife first. You shouldn't go by blood, go by how long you've known them." He was surprised at what my father had said too. I thanked him silently.
"So modest, young man. Fine then, I will talk to the muggle." He said and dismissed Stan and I. This did not offend my mother. I had enough sense as a child never to mention the status to her.
I closed the door on the two of them and sat down on an uncomfortable couch in a sitting area outside of the room.
"Your dad is, no offense, stupid. I have even known him for more than 5 minutes but that's how I feel. How can he not see how great you are?" He asked searching my eyes for something. We stayed silent after that, our hands entangled in each other's. I tried to listen to what my mother and father were talking about but I couldn't hear anything. He must have put the muffliato or silencing charm on the door. But still I stood with my ear poised and breathing softly. After about 10 minutes, Mother came out looking wary and took a place next to Stan.
"Half-blood!" I heard my dad cry from the room, motioning me in with his hand. I closed the door behind me. "Brooke. I don't know if you remember but your mother and I broke up for a good reason." I nodded even though I didn't remember. "Back then I was young and stupid, marrying a muggle wasn't uncommon, before the Dark Lord, you see? Then we had you and the Dark Lord rose to power. Some might say that I left to protect you and in some ways I did." I smiled him. I always knew he had left to protect us. "In others, I realized the error of my ways. I realized marrying a muggle was not the best choice. I wanted to be involved in the wizarding community and to do that I would need to marry a pureblood like myself. So I divorced your mother and now I have Stacy and we are right for each other, we have the same beliefs." He finished, by then I was crying. He said this so matter of fact; like leaving us was something he did every other day. So I was just come mistake he made? A coming of age tool? "I want you to marry Stan. Marrying a pureblood is good. Then you'll be accepted." I hated him, I remembered now. It suddenly came back to me. It wasn't my mother's fault for disliking my dad.
"No, Dad, you don't understand." I said, "Stan and his family accept me, and they wouldn't care if I were a pureblood or even a muggle. They love me and I love them. You did make a mistake and the mistake was leaving. I am great if you would have gotten to know me. If I ever married Stan it wouldn't be because I love him not because he's a pureblood. You are sick you know that? But since this is most likely the last time I will talk to you I am forced to say: I love you. Goodbye," I finished and stood up. I brushed away my tears and headed towards the door. I took one last look at my father. He was lying back on the bed looking considerably more worn than when had arrived. He was already bald completely but he had a thick mustache. I thought I could see tears in his eyes, but then I realized he was just yawning. And then I closed the door.
Stan went in after me, looking more shaken than I'd seen him in a while.
"Mother, why couldn't you have told me how awful he is?" I asked. She just smiled at me.
"Honey, I did. Everyday." She smiled sadly. "You know I want you to be happy. I just wonder if you're going to be happy with the life you're choosing." She put her hand lightly over mind.
"I know I'm going to be happy, Mother. I love him." I said whispering the last part and looking around to see if anyone heard. Mother smiled and took my face in her hands.
"You've become so beautiful. I wished I would have been there." She broke down crying and fell onto my shoulder I began crying too, silent tears and then big racking sobs and that's how Stan found us. He rubbed my back and looked unsure of what to do.
"Um… It's ok Mrs. Flintwood." He said as if in a question. Through her tears my mother laughed.
"Son, it's Kate, please." She said patting Stan on the back.
"Yes ma'am," He said.
"What did you talk about? You obviously didn't have any secrets or unknown grudges." I said after I'd calmed down, looking at Stan who had blushed a deep red.
"Oh… you know." He said shrugging it off.
"No tell me," I said pushing his shoulder playfully.
"I can't. It's a secret… mostly." He said smiling devilishly. I smiled back.
"He always does that," I told Mother who had witnessed it. We apparated back to my mother's house and Mother didn't even vomit this time. She made another pot of tea as Stan and I sat down at the kitchen table.
"Tell me. I won't tell anyone," I said bugging him.
"No! Brooke I can't!" His ears had turned red again. I dropped the subject when Mother returned from the kitchen.
"Go and show Stan your room, dear." She said in a loving voice.
"He's already seen it." I hated to bring up the last time Stan had visited. He suddenly stood up beside me.
"Bathroom," He said and shuffled down the hall, not having to ask where it was.
"I guess that's our cue to talk," I said sighing. Mother looked eager.
"Brooke, I forgot to say. I'm sorry. I really am. I'm sorry I drove you out of the house. I'm sorry I made you cry. I just… I want to be able to talk to you regularly again. I want to be able to go to your wedding and I want to be able to visit my grandchildren but I can't do that if you're still mad at me. So what we need to do is talk. I want you tell me what you hate about me," She said in a rush. I blushed when she mentioned marriage and kids. But truth be told, I didn't even feel an ounce of hatred towards my mother anymore. She was just being concerned the whole time, right?
"I forgive you, Mother. Truthfully this time too. I just want to know why you didn't contact me for 8 years. Why had it taken my father's ailing health to bring us back together?" I asked. The same could be said for me too though. I hadn't made any effort to contact my mother.
"I was bitter as I'm sure you were too." She said simply. We were silent for a while and Stan came back in looking flustered. Obviously he had been listening in.
"I'm sure my mother would love to meet you," Stan said as he finished his tea.
"Definitely. Mum loves everyone! She's so nice. You should come over for lunch one day." I said excitedly. Mother looked at me quizzically. I looked back at her. What?
"What about today? I'm sure Mum wouldn't mind having an extra guest for lunch." Stan said catching my excitement.
"I'll send a patronus!" I said gleefully and raised my wand. A crow erupted from the tip of my wand and warmth suddenly filled the poorly insulated house. I whispered my message and sent it of grateful that the rules of magic in front of muggles had been slackened if you were related. Mom looked in horror though.
"They're good!" Stan said defensively. Mother's shocked face slowly settled back into normality. Stan looked at the clock on the stove. It was already past 11.
"C'mon Mother!" I said. I was jubilant. My mother would be meeting my real family. I grabbed her hand and disapparated on the spot. Mother this time vomited again. I should have done a countdown or something. Stan rubbed her back as she leaned on my shoulder. We walked up towards the big house. Stan knocked and then unlocked the door. I laughed at the notion of Mum running around trying to clean last minute things.
"Mum!" I yelled into the house with a smile on my face. Mum came around the corner and discreetly put the broom in a crevice. "Mum." I said again smiled. My mother looked on in confusion. "This is my mother, Kate," I said pointing at Mother. Mum quickly ran over to her and gave her a big squeeze, which I'm sure Mother wasn't expecting. We were never big on hugs. I saw Abby, her face filled with curiosity come around the corner. "This is Abby." I said proudly standing behind Abby and pushing her forward though she had suddenly become shy and pulled away. I laughed anyway. "There's Maddie and Tyler too but they're at Hogwarts. They were here for Christmas. Tyler is so good at quidditch; we played a quick game everyday. Abby says she wants to be a keeper when she grows up, right, Abby?" I asked her as we settled down at the table. The table, the same as during Christmas, had been enlarged and could know sit 5 comfortably. I couldn't stop babbling all throughout lunch, I don't even think the other's got a word in. "This is the bracelet she gave me," I said continuing my story of Christmas. My face beamed with pride. "I just wish you could see a picture-" I slapped my head. "I'll be right back." I said climbing the stairs to my room to find the pictures I had just printed out from Christmas. I grabbed the pictures of the desk and headed downstairs again. I came downstairs to find Abby, mid-story, about something.
"Then everyone said 'Oh you're married! You're married!' and I'm like 'They aren't married,'" She said and everyone laughed politely. I handed Mother the pictures and pointed out people and faces. "I hang them up beside the bed. The good ones anyway,"
"You live here?" My mother asked in shock. I stared at her.
"Yeah!" I said as if this was obvious. Mother stayed silent and suddenly I lost my train of thought. I stayed quiet. Mum began to talk to Mother about gardening while Abby began to talk to me about that morning.
"Mum was in hysterics. She was practically bawling when she found the note. She thought you two eloped in Las Vega," She said and I blushed.
"Las Vegas," I corrected her. She nodded and continued with the story but I was barely listening. Did Mother not want me to live here? But this was my family! Lunch finished quickly after that and it was already 3. Ugh, I only had two hours left. "Mother, I'll teach you how to use an owl and we can contact each other." I told her and led her outside. We went to the barn in the backyard where owl's came and went freely. I called one of the owls down and taught Mother how to tie a letter to its leg.
"You sleep in the same room," She said interrupting. At first I thought she was talking about the owls, but then I realized she meant Stan and me. It was not a question but a statement.
"Yes," I admitted sheepishly. She stared at the owls. "We don't do anything… we just cuddle." I said embarrassed.
"I understand. I really do. Just don't do anything stupid. Use protection." She said staring deeply at a white owl. I blushed a deep red and I felt my face flame. I nodded a stiff nod. She left soon afterward, my mind still clouded with her words. I apparated her back to the house and I waved goodbye to my mother as I disappeared back home, a slight pink tint on my ears. As I went to sleep that night after work, I looked over at the picture I had put up early that day. My Mother was sitting next to Mum, with a smile affectionately on her lips. Stan smiled widely into the camera, holding Abby in his arms, he took his sister and tossed her into the air and caught her and then did the whole thing again. There, in that moving picture, was my family.