Note: This is told in Pattie's point of view and has a lot of fluff in it. I love just pointless fun family scenes and I hope you do too! The beginning is mostly just catching you up in the Halliwells lives and Pattie dealing with her wacky family. I tried to spice it up with comedy, but that's not my strong suit so I'd like it if you could tell me what you thought of any. Anyway, the end is a very awesome twist you never saw coming, even though I've been hinting towards it in the vaguest of ways the entire book.
Setting: Four months later: September 2008
The first few months after I found that letter, I read it every night just as my eyes were becoming so heavy that it was only a matter of minutes until I would pass out. And each morning, though I fell asleep with the paper tightly clasped in one fist, it was always resting on the nightstand when I woke up and I was always covered with my blankets. This process repeated continuously as I always told myself I'd remember to put the letter down before I let my exhaustion get the better of me, yet I never did. While reading, I studied the words so carefully; the way the ink was drabbled on the paper and the curvy scripture of my mother's cursive writing that soon enough I no longer needed the letter in front of me to be able to read it. I could recite her carefully chosen phrases by memory. Yet every evening I still held it in front of my face to try to take in more of the most intricate details, as if just to prove there had ever been a letter to begin with.
It was an unspoken gratitude between my aunt and I. She never mentioned removing the letter from my hand to tuck me in each night, sometimes at one or two in the morning, and I never woke up to see her. I guess it was just some sort of mutual understanding that didn't really need to be addressed.
For my sixteenth birthday, I will get another letter. My birthday is in late October, and it is early September now, so although it's just over a month to wait, I'm anticipating that moment with each passing second. Mom wrote at least 20 of them, stretching out over the long era of my life, and though I think I feel lucky that she's still there as guidance like she once promised, it also seems sort of surreal to me. If you've ever seen the movie 'P.S. I Love You' it's a bit like that, something to look forward to.
I'm sitting now at the kitchen table in the Manor, babysitting my cousins for at least the fourth time this past week even though I should be residing with my Aunt Phoebe. Aunt Piper has been busy lately and Uncle Leo won't be home from magic school for at least a few hours. Right now my aunt is focusing heavily on the foundation of what will be her new restaurant, the one thing I can honestly say I think she's desired since even before I was born. Strangely enough, despite our preconceived notions, she isn't going to be selling P3. The business at the nightclub has skyrocketed, and she's using some of the profits from that to pay for the loan of the building she's using for the restaurant.
Aunt Paige thinks she's crazy, and that it's ridiculous to try to run a successful club as well as restaurant, which I guess, spawns from her responsibilities as both a witch and whitelighter. Aunt Phoebe hasn't really said anything one way or the other; she's just waiting to see what comes of it. It's just "a leap of faith" as my Aunt Piper calls it, crediting me with giving her the inspiration to take the chance after my courageous trip to the past. I don't really see it that way, but I'll let her. She says she'll even hire me if her restaurant is a hit, and I bet it will be.
As far as babysitting goes, Wyatt is being a little angel today. I watch him, scribbling down the sums of his addition problems on the worksheet he was given and then moving on to practice his letters. He does this while chattering absentmindedly about how a boy in his class got in trouble for throwing dirt at someone else and how he'll be going on a field trip to a museum in a month, looking up only briefly once or twice to ask for help. I laugh, ruffling her sandy blonde hair as I remember the life of a first grader at Hoskins Elementary School.
Chris, on the other hand, fresh home from preschool at four, is gallivanting throughout the household shrieking at the top of his lungs. He's great at creating games to amuse himself, but I find myself leaving Wyatt so I can find him and tell him to keep it down or he'll definitely wake his baby sister up. His response to that is to shoot me a devilish smile and then orb out. I sigh, heading up the stairs quietly, hoping Chris hasn't stirred up enough of a racket to cause Penny to awaken because it took nearly an hour to get her down in the first place.
He's in his bedroom crashing to plastic cars together. I know this because even down the hallway, the sound is reverberated out against the walls. "Chris," I call firmly with a low voice. When I reach the doorway I'm just in time to witness a tower of legos obliterated as Chris slams a toy truck straight through it.
The colorful blocks burst apart, flying throughout the air and ricocheting off the walls, some of them hitting me in the face. I watch his eyes, lit up with the joy only a four-year-old can have.
That is, until he sees me.
"Uh oh," Chris moans, his face falling with realization as he braces himself. "Sorry, Pattie."
This is very out of character for Chris; usually Wyatt is the restless one while he tends to be content with staying wherever you put him. But his friend Hannah from preschool was celebrating her birthday today and brought a tray of cupcakes to share with her friends, leaving my cousin bouncing off the walls. When I don't give him an answer, he forgets his mistake with the blocks and resumes crashing the vehicles into whatever he lays eyes on first. "Wham!" Chris cries, "Bam! Bam! Kaboom!" Another statue of blocks comes tumbling to the carpet.
"No more Chris," I scold, "It's time to quiet down while your baby sister takes her nap."
I see the plan to orb forming in his eyes and catch him before he has the slightest chance. "Ah, ah, ah, do it and I'll send a round of frigid ice your way," I threaten, already raising my hand to my mouth. My cyrokinises actually can't effect another witch to a point beyond a mere chill, especially family, but Chris is too young to know that and in this family you have to fight fire with fire in order to get anywhere.
Chris reflects upon the idea of that and comes to the decision that he'd rather not suffer that fate. There's a gasp, "You wouldn't!"
"Don't be so quick to assume that, Christopher," I taunt him, using a phony voice of authority and doing the best I can to sound more confident than I am. "Then maybe I'll even feed ya to the demons if you're a bad boy."
I've got him with that. The thought of the mysterious, scary demons that he hasn't seem much of in his short lifetime recently trigger my victory. "Your commands are answered!" he mocks some television movie, scampering over to me and bowing down on his knees like a slave. "I'll do as you want, my queen!"
It's hard not to crack up with Chris when he's 'in character' and I find myself laughing hysterically as I gather him up into my arms and place a kiss on his forehead. "That's what I thought."
"You wouldn't really give me to the demons, would you Pattie?" he queries, pulling an innocent face with wide eyes and an ever adorable pout. I grin and hug him tighter.
"Of course not, you're too adorable and I love you too much," I reply, shutting his door as I carry him out into the hallway. "Especially because you managed not to wake Penny—" I'm cut off as the screaming of an infant rips through the second floor of the Manor. No such luck. "—up." Chris jumps down from my arms and down the hallway before I can stop him, yelling something about not being demon food and I smack my palm to my forehead. "Wait a minute, mister!" I call after him, but that's a lost cause because he's not coming back and I have a crying baby to deal with, so I leave the problem with Chris and head off to deal with my youngest cousin.
Penny's still hollering as I creep into her bedroom and dim the lights. I laugh, considering how she takes after her namesake. Grams was always yelling, so persistent that you always ended up doing things her way. It's a fitting tribute, I think, and a special compliment for me. In the weeks preceding her birth, I weighed in heavily on something that had been bothering me for months, the naming of a very special little baby.
They'd known it was going to be girl since one of the ultrasounds; I'd known from before that out of pure intuition and I'd known that Aunt Piper wanted to name her Prudence Melinda. That was the original plan for Wyatt as well until he ended up being a boy, and then I think I was too young for it to bother me, but growing up I realized how much I liked that I was named after my grandmother because of my mother's love for her. I wanted that to continue for another generation, I wanted to name my little girl Prudence one day in the future.
I considered this for weeks and weeks as the time neared my aunt's due date, but said nothing to no one. It was my aunt's happiness or my own, and if I said anything, I had to be prepared that there was no going back. And if I didn't, I had to be just as ready to live the rest of my life dealing with my decision. One day, feeling selfish, I walked in to my aunt's bedroom as she was lounged out on her bed snacking on a bowl full of chips and pretzels. Sitting down on the bed, I prepared to unload my problems to her once and for all.
Unfortunately for me, her water broke.
In the end, I never told Aunt Piper about my wish to name my daughter Prue. Although I was mentally training myself to accept that choice, later that night before either of my aunts had arrived and it was just Aunt Piper and I alone in the hospital room, she carefully rested the tiny infant in my embrace and whispered her name to me.
Penelope Melinda Halliwell.
My jaw dropped before I could control it. I begged to know why she'd changed her mind so quickly, but she just replied that she'd been mulling it over in her brain for months now. She'd realized how much it meant to me without me needing to say a word, and then thought it fair to recognize the woman that had raised her instead, like I wanted to.
I was free to name my little girl Prudence one day, she told me. Aunt Piper was done with having kids and she promised neither of my other aunts would name their little girls that either.
Lifting that same little child, yet now a year older, into my grasp, I'm in awe at how big she gets every time I see her. It seems like she grows within even an hour and begins reacting to every sound and sight around her. She and Kyra are a month apart; Kyra was born in June and Penny in July, but both has begun, at 16 and 17 months, using words such as Mama, Dada, no, and ball. Just the other day I was making breakfast before school and when I set the plate of waffles down on the counter, I managed to coax Kyra into mumbling 'eggo'; a few days later she's got it down pat and poor Aunt Phoebe is running low as they're now her favorites.
I rock Penny back and forth in my arms gently, shushing her and doing whatever I can to soothe her cries. Aunt Piper has been joking around that I'll need all the practice I can get with infants seeing as my Aunt Paige just found out she was expecting in June and then Aunt Phoebe followed with that same exciting news in August. And I keep reinforcing the importance of me receiving a paycheck at minimum wage if I'm going to spend next summer running the Halliwell Daycare center. Aunt Piper scoffed when I told her that the first time, but by the third round I think it's starting to sink in because I've begun sitting for at least 6 more kids around the neighborhood.
Penny is still crying and I prop on my widest smile, juggling her in my arms and smoothing her auburn hair. "Come on," I cheer brightly, "come on, Penny! Smile, little girl! Calm down! It's okay!"
She finally does and I think it's due to the tone of my voice, which is so high-pitched and sprightly that even the most depressed person would give at least smile. I set Penny down so she can get out her energy and roam free for a few minutes before I lay her down again because she's barely been asleep an hour. I know she's cranky and it'll probably be impossible to settle Penny down for a second time, but I know have to try so I want to give myself a break until then. I watch her little legs carry her around the room, not able to contain my enjoyment as I do.
Penny learned to walk at 13 months, almost a month before Kyra did. Emily and I had been watching Pirates of the Caribbean for the thousandth time and when Orlando Bloom came on to the screen she just pulled herself to her feet effortlessly and made a run for the TV screen, pressing her tiny fingers on his face. That's how I predicted she'd be a boy addict, and she's got great taste. But I guess it's a family thing.
I watch as she encloses her palm on a chain of plastic rings that belonged to me as a toddler and kneel down in front of her, trying to picture myself at her age and my mother in my place. "Penny, sweetie," I coo, grabbing one of her tiny fists to get her attention. "Can you say, 'Aunt Prue'?"
She has no idea who this person is. Just recently I've gotten her used to attempting Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige, although it sounds more like 'phe-beh' and 'paish'. Both are still developing, but she recognizes them by face and is trying to communicate by names more and more, as is Kyra. I've done the name with her uncles, brothers, and Billie, hoping I can surprise them when she's got their names more clearly. She says mine either missing both T's so it sounds like 'Pa-ie' or will just go for Pay-Pay instead, because it's the most she can pronounce.
"Can you say Aunt Prue, Penny?" I ask again, curling my bottom lip into a pout, "Please?"
"Aun..Aun," she begins, and I want to laugh because she can't manage to enunciate her t's and it's adorable. "Aun Proo," Penny mumbles with a hopeful grin, gurgling. She picked it up, just like that. I'm in awe.
"Good girl," I whisper, giving her a hug and kiss as a reward and, knowing she's done a good thing, she claps for herself, giggling. "Yes, Penny, I'm very proud of you," I tell her. She shrieks and claps louder.
I hear a door slam shut and begin to worry, wondering if Wyatt or Chris have gone outside and then considering why they would be doing this. I pick Penny up, intent on returning her to her crib, but Wyatt comes bounding up the stairs with Chris at his heels, the two of them both yelling at top level, "Pattie! Auntie Paige is here!"
Bouncing the infant on my left hip and ushering Wyatt and Chris out the door in front of me, the four of us quickly scuttle down the stairs where Aunt Paige is waiting for me.
"There you are," she comments, wrapping me in her arms. "How's the babysitting going?"
"I haven't had a spare minute to study for my biology test, start my US history paper, or begin reading the novel I was assigned for English," I moan. Though I deeply love spending time with my cousins, every second with them is another I'm behind with my work, and I'm keep up four honors classes minus US history 1. What was a few late nights last week is beginning to occur more periodically.
She wrinkles her nose at my list of tasks. "Ouch. What's the bio test on?"
Penny wriggles in my arms and I adjust her so she'll stop. "Anatomy of a pig. We're dissecting them next week." Her face goes sour, the same way I feel about the whole situation. "It's a real thrill, I know."
"I always hated that," she agrees as we wander into the living room. Penny squirms again, whining to get out of my arms and I let her crawl across the couch into Aunt Paige's lap. "Hi sweetie," she coos to the baby and then faces me again. "Then again, I always faked sick on those days to get out of it."
"Aunt Paige!" I pretend to be outraged and she laughs. "I'm shocked at you! How ever should I punish you for committing such a crime?" I get another chuckle and then move on. "I almost made my frog disappear when we dissected one in the seventh grade. Emily was my partner, she had no problem teleporting it somewhere else."
"It was almost worth the F you would have gotten, I'm sure," she replies and then realizes that she's forgotten the real reason she's came. "Speaking of magic and school," she begins, and I notice the school bag lying on the floor next to her, "You left this at my house yesterday when you stopped by to get some peace."
I've been taking a few classes at magic school recently just so I can keep in tune with the knowledge of witches. They aren't too often to get me behind in public school, but the work is enough that I need to set aside spare time to finish it. After Uncle Leo finally relieved me of duty here yesterday, Aunt Phoebe's proved to be no place to get any studying done. Kyra's going through hell with teething, although she's already been getting them for months, and spent a good amount of time yowling while Aunt Phoebe's hormones from the pregnancy have kept her unable to bear most hours of the day. Even Uncle Coop couldn't seem to handle them so I went to the one place where children weren't an issue.
"Of course, I won't be able to get peace there for long," I remind her, rubbing the bump that she's already got at three months. "Because soon two darling little infants will be screaming their heads off with you too."
"Such a bearer of positive energy," she scoffs, smirking. We found out not too long ago that Aunt Paige and Uncle Henry had not one, but two bundles of joy coming their way. Although we're all excited, three newborns between two of my aunts in three months isn't going to be an easy condition.
Wyatt and Chris are yelling from another room, their little voices shrieking up a storm. I sigh, brushing my bangs from my face and searching for them, "And you're sure I'm not just being realistic?" I ask, gesturing towards the noise. She doesn't want to, but she has to laugh, and then stands and follows after me.
"Wyatt! Chris!" she yells, letting them know that trouble is coming. Then, Aunt Paige shoots me a curious stare, "Have they been doing this often?"
I suppose what often is for siblings, seeing as I'm the only one in the family who doesn't have any and won't. "Often enough," I decide, "when I got here they were fighting over which one got the last piece of banana bread just as Aunt Piper ran out the door and left me to deal with this." I roll my eyes, "No wonder she's never home."
Aunt Paige shrugs, and when we reach the living room it's clear to both of us what's going on. Wyatt's found out that Chris has gotten a hold of his favorite trucks, one of the ones I saw him playing with earlier, and now they're at each other's throats as he tries to get it back.
"It's mine, Chris! Give it!" he shrieks. The duo are rolling around on the floor, Chris throws his arm back and away from Wyatt as he reaches for it. "Chris!" he mutters again, but Chris ducks out of the way.
"Dealing with little children is an art you must be skilled in, and I am the master. Let me handle this, Pattie," Aunt Paige says, handing Penny off to me and heading over as Chris climbs onto the couch, balancing on it's arm and holding the truck high over his head.
Penny gurgles and leans her head on my shoulder. I look at her, smiling slyly. "Let's just see if Auntie Paige has gotten in over her head, shall we?" I remark to the baby, who giggles and mumbles Chris's name. "Yes, Penny, Chris is going to give her a run for her money." I take a step back; my aunt is great with the kids, but she hasn't seen them at all since school started and they've both gotten a lot rougher and have a lot more energy over her now.
Lingering on the edge of the room, I observe the scene as Aunt Paige goes in to grab Chris from the side of the couch, but he pushes her out of the way and leaps off the side, landing on his feet and skittering away. Wyatt barely notices her, so intent on retrieving his favorite toy that even when she seizes him to stop he yanks out of her arms and after him. Aunt Paige calls both boys' name several times but her efforts are ignored. Wyatt continues to try and throttle his little brother, howling for his toy back and knocking Chris over. When Aunt Paige once again interferes, pulling Wyatt off of Chris, she is accidentally kicked in the face. Both boys scream over her, refusing to be separated from their argument until either wins. After a few more unsuccessful tries, she returns, out of breath.
"So, master, should I call a skilled artist to take care of the job for you?" I jeer at her, biting my lip.
"That is not funny, Patricia," Aunt Paige replies, glaring at me and sitting down to rest.
The boys keep up at it, Penny is cheering them on by her laughter. "On the contrary, your nieces are getting great enjoyment out of watching you make a fool out of yourself." Then I add, with a hint of arrogance "I tried to warn you, all mighty Aunt Paige."
She waves me away, rising to her feet and making off towards the kitchen. "Whatever then, you handle them, I'm going to make myself some lunch."
"It's four in the afternoon!" I call after my aunt. "How can you be eating lunch now?"
"Well it's feeding time for the fetuses in my book," she yells back, already in the kitchen. "And I'm eating for three, so four o' clock is the new scheduled time for eating lunch in the Halliwell Manor."
--
Ten minutes later, I've convinced Chris that it's time to give Wyatt his truck back and to next time ask before just taking. I've warned them the consequences of all their fighting, made a mental note to talk to my uncle when he gets home, and become convinced none of it fazed Wyatt or Chris. Wyatt carefully inspected his truck for scratches and when there were no major problems they began getting along again.
Stores need a manual for how to deal with magical siblings.
Wyatt and Chris parade into the kitchen as Penny is in her high chair munching on some cheerios and Aunt Paige is finishing up the last few bites of her sandwich. Before I can stop him, he climbs on top of the chair adjacent to her and pulls a piece of tomato out from inside the sandwich, shoving it down his throat.
"Christopher!" I reprimand. This is not the 'best behavior' Aunt Piper promised he'd be on, no where close. "That's not how we treat family, we do not take," I remind him as I take a napkin from the center of the table and wipe off the fresh juice tricking down from the corners of his lips. "Now what do you say to Aunt Paige?"
"Tomatoes are yummy," he squeals, reaching for another piece of the sandwich, at which I immediately grab his wrist and pull it back.
"Not a chance. I can tell mommy and daddy what a rude little boy you were being today or you can apologize to your aunt for taking her lunch without asking, it's your choice."
"Sowwy, Auntie Paige," he complies, feigning innocence and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"It's all right, Chris, but I think it's time to listen to your cousin and go play with your brother quietly, sound good?" she asks, although it's more of a command than a question. He looks longingly at the cheerios Penny is smashing for a second, then at the firm glare I'm giving him that says he'll be in trouble if he even thinks about going near them, and then retreats from the room with Wyatt not far behind. "What's up with the kid today, usually it's Wyatt who you can't get to stop bouncing off the walls."
She hands me her plate, which I add to the pile of dishes in the sink and then begin sweeping the jumble of crumbs on the plastic top of the highchair, although Penny fusses because apparently she's not done making a mess. "I know, I thought the same thing. One of his little friends had a party at school and apparently schools no longer monitor how much a sugar a child intakes because they get to give the kids back a few hours later once it's kicked in."
She smiles at me as if I've been inducted in to some club, as if she definitely understands. "Ah, a little boy and a mountain of sugar. You may as well bang your head against the wall in the beginning and get it over with."
"It's even worse because they're so magical and all they want to do is share it with the world, which I wish they could, but I doubt that would go over well. It would make for an interesting conversation on 'Career Day' though. My father used to be one of the top notch guardian angels out there, my mom is one of the most powerful witches in the universe and I'm an escapee from the institution," I quip, twirling a strand of my brown hair around my finger and giggling lightly.
"Well I seem to recall a certain niece almost showing off her telekinesis for show and tell one year. You couldn't have brought a teddy bear or necklace, you had to be the star of the class. Thank God Prue found out about that one and stopped you before you got to school."
Both of us turn around at the familiar sound of my aunt's voice. Sure enough, Aunt Phoebe is hovering in the doorway beaming. "Excuse me?" Aunt Paige snickers and I can tell she's imagining the effects of that.
"Yeah, that would have been a hard one to cover up," Aunt Phoebe scoffs.
"Ah, very discreet with that rebuttal I see." I roll my eyes and correct her. "And I was five, thank you very much.
"Whatever," she ruffles my hair.
Aunt Phoebe has Kyra settled in her arms. She is overjoyed to see me, screeching her own version of my name at the top of her lungs. "Well hello there little miss bug," I chuckle happily, pecking a kiss on her head. "What's one of my favorite little girls up to?" She just babbles in return. Then it hits me. "Oh no, that's why you're here isn't it? You've come to leave me with another one to watch?"
Both of my aunts laugh at my meltdown. "Ye of little faith Pattie," she grins with Kyra looking over her shoulder, trying to chatter to Penny from the other side of the room. "Why do you think I'd stoop that low?"
"Because you did yesterday."
"Well we've got to get you back for the mayhem you put us through when you were a little kid," Aunt Paige adds, nudging me as her laughter blends with Aunt Phoebe.
I turn to my aunt. "What is this, gang up on Pattie day?"
"Every day is gang up on Pattie day, that's the definition of parenthood." Aunt Phoebe first smirks at me, as if she's accomplished because of her witty banter, and then follows with a wink. "Actually, I came over because I thought you might need a little free time to work on some schoolwork. Can you believe it? I'm being nice!" She sets Kyra on the table so Aunt Paige can entertain her and then folds me into her arms. "And I miss you for a change, you're never at the condo even I though I think you might live there," Aunt Phoebe continues sarcastically.
"Gotta earn my keep," I reply, rubbing my fingers together to symbolize money. I turn around to walk away and then pretend to be struck with realization. "Oh wait! You don't pay me," I say bitterly with a half smile. "I'm really going to start charging you by the cousin soon. Aunt Piper will owe me a fortune in one week."
She shoves me out the door, both she and Aunt Paige laughing. "Go do your work." Ignoring the money comment, "We'll watch the kids for you."
--
So I do.
I spend twenty minutes memorizing every fact on the packet of pig body parts and how to use the dissection instruments. I take another hour reading three chapters into Catcher in the Rye and then work on my introduction for my paper on the Salem Witch Trials. I muse over the irony of the fact that I chose the Salem Witch trials for another five minutes until it's six o' clock.
Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige have checked on me repeatedly as I'm stretched out in the conservatory with books strewn out everywhere and they want to make sure I stay focused. Without looking up from my work I have mini conversations with them; both remind me continuously that they should be leaving yet by six neither has and Aunt Piper walked through the door in a cheery mood fifteen minutes ago so I know they won't be anytime soon.
Remembering the mahogany colored schoolbag resting near the couch, I lunge over for it. When I finally grab the bag, I tip it over so the contents spill to the floor.
Two books and a locket. My mother's locket.
I'd been crushed a few days ago when I thought it had slipped off my neck during school but seeing it now I sigh a breath of relief. It'd been resting in my first letter waiting for me, the locket my mom had rekindled from her childhood and never taken off that I could remember. Inside was a tiny picture of her and grandma on the left and then one of she and I on the right.
The snapshots that she'd sent along are resting between the pages of my book for the class I take on magical creatures. They're imprinted between the paper, book marking the being I'm supposed to research and discuss with my family. I open the book, folding down the corner of a page to seal the page and then glance at the three beautiful works of art. One of me and my aunts, one of me and my younger self, and one of me and her.
The inscription on the back of the last one reads: so you'll never forget.
It'd been a last minute thing, a sudden idea of Aunt Phoebe's while we were waiting in the attic for Uncle Leo to arrive so I could explain my plan. When the memories fade to the point that I can't place myself there again, when I'm almost convinced I dreamed the whole situation, all I have to do is look at these and then I'm set straight.
I return my attention to the book lying out in front of me. It's parted open to my assigned magical being, and my eyes float back and forth from the photos to my studies as I snatch a notebook from the jumble on the floor and begin to copy down some important facts about this creature. The pictures and words bleed into one so that I've somehow become so absorbed that the facts run through my mind in unison with the people caught in time.
The answer doesn't come at first.
In fact, it takes a good ten minutes.
I'd been scribbling away at my notepad, jotting down a thing or two but mostly spacing out as I doodled in the corner. I loved Magical Beings 101, in fact out of the four classes I took it was my favorite. But it was a Saturday morning. It was early. I'd spent three and a half hours gossiping with Emily on the phone and then another two cramming for the test I'd be taking to advance in my potions class. I vaguely remembered the clock reading somewhere around 2:45 in the morning before I let my eyes close that evening and then woke up with my face in the middle of the book three hours later.
Needless to say, I was exhausted.
It took every mature fiber in my being not to brew some sort of potion to drink keep myself awake through the test, though if anything went wrong I could always pass it off as a class experiment anyway.
Potions class had come and gone and I wasn't even paying the least bit attention to my professor as she chattered away about the latest group of witchly counterparts we'd been studying, fairies I think it may have been. I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, if anything at all, but I had fazed the rest of the world out of my little bubble. In fact, by the time I realized Ms. Wilson was going to be assigning us anything at all it was when Tessie tapped on my shoulder while my teacher was still three desks in front of me.
"Hey Pattie, Wilson's giving us some project and unless you want her to kick you out you should probably at least look like you were listening," she warns, reinserting her lollipop in her mouth when she's done and sucking on it.
I sat forward and blinked a couple times, fixing my gaze on Ms. Wilson when she arrived at my desk and flipped through my textbook until she found the was looking to disperse to me. "I think you'll find this to be very informative, Pattie. And who knows, maybe it'll come in handy for you in your life."
Examining the information printed on the paper, I quickly found myself loosing concentration again. I knew about these magical allies, we'd worked with them years back. Who was she kidding? I'd breeze through it, but I still wondered one thing.
How was this ever going to be helpful towards me?
I realize it when I looked back at that moment.
My eyes stay firmly planted on the paper for a few minutes. I don't just glide over the statistics either; I memorize them instantly and relate them to this figure. It doesn't take long because I'm already familiar with all the facts, they've been there all along and I've just missed them.
Not bothering to clean up the puddle of paper muddled on the floor, I jump to my feet, leaving the clutter behind and dart to the kitchen with the textbook wrapped tightly in my arms.
When I get there I'm out of breath. The scent of dinner is trailing across the room, wafting itself over to me and my cousins are all busy engrossed in their own little activities, but when my aunts see the look on my face, they immediately know something is up. "You need to come to the attic with me, right now."
Aunt Piper goes to object. I can tell that she knows this is a magical situation and she doesn't feel she has the time, but she is cut off abruptly by Aunt Paige. "No, Piper, look how serious she is about this. Let's just see."
They grab the kids and follow me up the stairs and it seems the most interminable moments of my life even though I'm skipping steps, racing for the attic. Fear grips my heart and it's thumping at top level. Aunt Phoebe reaches from behind me and I can tell she's trying to keep up because she's feeling what I'm feeling. Her empathy gives way to the conclusion that this is important, but she doesn't know why.
The hallway grows with each step so that the door to the attic is never within reach. I push myself until I'm finally walking through that archway to the attic, ascending the stairs and standing in front of the Book of Shadows.
Chris has fallen asleep in Aunt Piper's arms and she places him on the couch. Wyatt is playing with Penny on the floor, showing her his technique of chasing after demons. Kyra is bouncing in Aunt Phoebe's arms, like she can sense the impending occurrence of something exciting. Aunt Paige runs over the potion bottles, skimming through them slowly with one eye on me. Aunt Piper folds her arms and sits on the couch next to her son, waiting.
Aunt Phoebe is the one to come up beside me and places her hand on my shoulder as I shuffle furiously through the pages of the book, searching desperately for a spell I can't find. Turning each page, my hope builds and then falls.
"Do you want us to call Billie?" Aunt Paige wonders aloud, just for the sake of making conversation. Total quietness doesn't sit well with her; she can't function in a dead silent room without fidgeting.
"No, just us," I barely hear myself respond, still fingering through each piece of ancient family history but finding nothing. "Just us." Then, as if a light bulb clicks on, I finally recollect why I can't find it. "Aunt Phoebe," I begin, but feeling not quite ready for everyone else to know yet, I whisper what I need to say into her ear. Then, out loud, I ask, "Do you still remember that spell?"
She thinks about it too long and I have to stop my mind from jumping to conclusions that she won't be able to retain the spell. But she is, after all, my aunt, the best of spell-casters, and she does. "Being of—"
"No!" I yell instantly, interrupting her before she goes too far. "It's not for you; we can't call one of yours. We need mine, or it won't be right." Aunt Phoebe doesn't question me, she writes down the spell instead.
"Your what?" Aunt Piper inquires, becoming intrigued. She settles Chris on her lap as he snores.
"My muse."
Being
of creativity,
Show yourself now to me
Your light which shines
upon our face
Let our vision now embrace
I hold my breath. A form shimmers in, but not in the way of a demon. And then there she is.
Standing in front of us, no trick, is my mother.
And she looks beautiful.
"Mom!" I scream, throwing myself towards her, falling into her arms. She's ready for it. "Oh my god, I knew you'd come, I just knew you would if I called you. I knew it had to be."
"Oh, Pattie." It's all she can say before both of us are in tears. They're a mixture; from being so happy to see each other and equally missing the other so much in the lost years.
It takes me a minute to remember that my family is standing around me, probably in complete shock. I'm surprised they haven't already come colliding into one huge hug. Wiping the tears from my eyes, the two of us pull apart to face them. They're looks of pure shock mirror one another; not a single one of the three of them moves a muscle or even whispers anything under their breath for the longest time.
Mom still keeps me close to her, and I don't fight it now. I embrace it, fitting myself into the curves of her arms and letting my skin stroke against her shirt. "But Pattie," Aunt Piper finally finds the words. "How?"
"I don't know the whole story myself to be completely honest. But in my textbook it was explaining things about muses. And I was looking at the pictures we took in the past, mom," I look to her, unsure of myself, "and I don't know, everything just fit. When my teacher gave me the book, she said that it might come in handy in my life. I never thought she'd mean this…" I trail off. Ms. Wilson is one of the reasons Magical Beings 101 is my favorite class; there's something about her that's less like a teacher and more like a friend.
The day she'd prepared to discuss Shax in class for our unit on major demons I'd been called in early for her to check that I didn't mind her giving the details right in front of me about the demon that killed my mother. I admired that, it made me respect her. She gave me the option of skipping the class, but I showed up in tribute to Mom. I took my seat, completely set on making it through the class, feeling a pair of eyes from each of my classmates fixated on me. I knew and was friends with most of them, but my reputation as a Charmed One's daughter assured that whether I was associated with those kids or not, they knew the story: that somewhere in Shax's history was the death of my mother. I bit my lip and watched as the minutes crept by slowly with strength brewing within me, but when Ms. Wilson began talking about his powers it submerged. I raised my hand to correct her on a statement of hers about Shax's use of energy balls but it took me back into that moment, and before I knew it, I was sprinting out of her classroom and to the bathroom where I was sick, over and over again until my mind had gone numb.
I called Aunt Paige and told her I was feeling nauseous, begging to be picked up. Thankful she didn't read the pain coated in my voice, I grabbed my things and headed for the main hall to await her arrival. Needless to say, I was surprised to see Ms. Wilson standing over a cart of books. She gasped when she saw me standing there, apologizing profusely for going ahead with the class. Somehow I ended up telling her about my mother, unloading the things I'd kept from most over the years, such as my ability to hear her in the back of my head. I knew she was watching, her presence strongly felt, as if she was holding me together even in her absence.
I explain this thoroughly to my family, keeping a calm tone present in my voice. When I'm finished, Mom nods and considers this. "Smart woman," she decides finally, "she must have realized it. That's why she assigned Muses to you, hoping to clue you in so you could finally get some salvation."
I rock back and forth on the balls of my feet. I know my aunts are anxious. "I think my aunts need that a little more right now," I guess, taking a step back and leaving Mom free to be knocked over. "Go ahead, go for it."
Chillingly enough, they don't move.
They remind me of myself, what they wanted most right in front of them, but now that it's there, what to do with it? After a few seconds of nothingness, Aunt Phoebe gradually sets Kyra down on the floor by Wyatt and Penny. Then she casually walks up to Mom and touches a hand to her face. "You're real," she comments. "I saw Pattie touching you and I couldn't bring myself to believe it."
"Believe it, Phoebe," Mom tells her, not missing a beat. "I'm really here. It's not some cruel joke; you can say or do anything you want. So what'll it be?"
The scene unfolds in front of my eyes. Mom is already crying, but soon its spread and Aunt Phoebe is too. At the sight of her baby sister in tears, she gathers my aunt in her arms and consoles her. "Oh god Prue. I've just wanted this for so long, and I never knew how I was supposed to deal with it. I wanted to be strong for you. I wanted to prove that I was as brave as you'd thought me, that I could move on for you." She sobs louder.
"I know, Phoebe, I do." Mom squeezes her shoulder, shushing Aunt Phoebe and the two of them look no older than young children caught by the impact of reality. "Of course I'm proud of you," she adds. "Why wouldn't I be? You got through a battered marriage and managed to find the guy of your dreams and then achieve your hope of being a mother. I've never seen you fail any innocent or let a demon go unvanquished. I watch you, Phoebe. You've dedicated your life to helping others; you raised my baby girl and turned her into a fierce confident young woman. You're everything I've ever wanted you to be. Everything Mom and Grams hoped for."
Aunt Phoebe stares up at her, chocolate brown eyes widening. "I…I am?"
"How can you not believe that yourself, Pheebs? You've sacrificed everything for your family, and I've been watching you every step of the way. I wouldn't let you go through that alone," Mom promises, kissing her forehead.
"Losing you was like losing mom all over again, Prue. And I felt so responsible, like my staying for Cole meant choosing him over you," she weeps into Mom's shoulder much as I do with her and I find my similarities to my aunt. "If I had to go back and do that again—"
Mom shakes her head. "Don't try to rethink your actions. It worked out how it was meant to, Phoebe."
"I never knew how to grasp it, Prue. I spent my days praying you'd just walk through the front door. All I wanted was my big sister back, and I put so much energy in trying to be there for Pattie, and Piper, even Paige that I didn't know how to comfort myself. So I just closed that pain off." She searches for the correct way to explain everything she's suppressed for years, but Mom already understands. That's the beauty of it.
"You need to let yourself go, let all your emotions go. It's why you're the empath Phoebe; you have such a big heart, and so much compassion for others. But let our sisters help you too. If you're sad, it's okay to be sad. Okay?" Mom lifts my aunt's chin like she's done with me before and she nods then wraps herself in Mom's arms again. "I love you, Phoebe, and I miss you too." I see her glance as Kyra, amidst my other cousins on the floor. "And I love my little niece; she's gorgeous, just as her mother is."
Aunt Phoebe holds Mom to her for a long time before pulling away.
When she does, she comes to me and we cling to each other for support without any words.
Her next target is sitting on the couch with Chris still resting on her lap. When Aunt Piper, knee deep in her own tears, sees Mom coming she gently lifts him off and settles him next to her. The second Mom is seated, she collapses into her embrace. "Prue," she whimpers. "I don't even know what to say."
"Then don't," she cuddles Aunt Piper close. "Let me say it this to you then, Piper. I'm just as proud of you as I am Phoebe. I know you were hesitant to be the oldest sister, to have to step into my shoes and take leadership. But Piper, you've grown into the role so much, you're strong and you're brilliant. You have three perfect children, you've shaped my daughter into an incredible person, and Piper, you threw away your doubts about your being a witch to protect your family. I know how that was the ultimate thing to surrender for you and you desperately wanted to stop being a witch after I died. But you didn't, you held your own and kept on going."
"I didn't see any other choice," Aunt Piper admits, clutching the sleeve of Mom's shirt like a toddler. "I had to make sure they were safe like you did. I didn't think I could be you though, the one in charge.
"Of course you're not me honey," Mom continues, stroking her hair and rubbing her back. "I'm glad of that too. I love you for you Piper; if you were anyone else it wouldn't be right." Meanwhile, Wyatt has left his sister and cousin behind and scurried over to my mother, hopeful to climb onto her lap.
Mom accepts him warmly, resting her face in his sandy blonde hair. "You're my Aunt Prue?" he asks, staring into her eyes with the innocence of a child. I can't help but smile, Aunt Phoebe does too. From across the room, Aunt Paige watches as well and when our eyes meet she unsteadily looks away. My mother has a wide grin, she nods. "Pattie tells me all sorts of stories about you! Like the one time you were all sucked up into a giant ice cream truck and grandpa had to come to the rescue!" He's so into this that it makes me cry harder.
Aunt Piper can't seem to believe how unfazed Wyatt is. She picks her head up, "Wyatt, Aunt Prue has always wanted to meet you. She loves you very much even though she can't be around."
"Is that why you're crying, Mommy?" he questions bravely, clutching one of her hands.
"I'm just so happy to see her, baby."
"Me too, Wyatt," I put in, making my voice heard again. "Just like I've told you, it's been a long time since I've gotten to really see my mommy, and I've missed her. She's been up in heaven watching us, and guiding us." Chris rolls over and opens his eyes as I'm talking. I introduce him to the situation and my mother and not wanted to be left out, he crawls over Aunt Piper and settles himself between her and Mom.
Even Penny has gotten to her feet and joined them, reaching up to be included. "Aun Proo," she calls, waving her tiny arm expectantly. I cover my mouth in awe that she's placed the name with my mother and Mom lifts her to join them. Penny points to her, "Aun Proo here!"
"Very good, Penny," I whisper under my breath so I'm sure only Aunt Phoebe hears.
"I wish you could be here for them to grow up with," Aunt Piper says, her crying beginning to cease.
"So do I," Mom confesses as Penny wraps her hand around two of her fingers, squealing. "But I will be there to inspire them as often as I can while they grow up. I'll never leave my family."
"Just like you promised me," I recount, remembering how she'd told me that she'd always be my inspiration just before we parted in 2000. That'd come true, more so than either could have imagined. "When did you figure out that you could do this? When did you start being my muse?"
As Wyatt coils to fit in the empty space next to my mother, seeming very comfortable even though he's just met her. Mom thinks for a second, recollecting those moments and then comes up with an answer. "It wasn't long after, really. I'd been so fixated on keeping up with your every move; I just wasn't quite ready to leave you behind. And I knew you were in so much pain because of me, you needed to learn to trust again, to live. But I just couldn't figure out how to help you do that."
Aunt Phoebe strengthens her hold around me and I bury my face in one of her sleeves. She seems to intent on listening to Mom's story, but offers a smile to me when I look at her. I make an attempt to smile back and then huddle closer, strangely content standing where I am despite my need for Mom. Whether or not I'm in my mother's arms, she's there in front of me, talking to me like she's never even died. It's a miracle in so many ways to know that I can just be able to touch her if I want to, to tell her that I love her and I don't need to be next to her right now. I can let my cousins bond with her, because at this point even Kyra has noticed the scene before her and wobbled over to join the party. Mom looks to be having a ball as an aunt, having missed the opportunity in her life.
She continues, "So one day, I was talking to your father as we watched you battling Devlin, remember him?" I do, but it wasn't a question to be answered, she just keeps talking. "And then when I saw the muse who'd been inspiring us I just knew it. I'd told you I'd be there for guidance and inspiration and I knew this was the perfect way." She laughs as Kyra babbles and falls forward into her laugh with a moan, trying not to be distracted. "Your dad told me to go for it and to not stop until I got my way because I deserved it, being killed in the line of duty and all."
"Did you have to fight for it?" I asked, increasingly interested in the story.
"Yeah did you have to show them who was boss?" Wyatt pipes up, assuming fighting stance. I laugh and so does Mom. Our laughs have a similar rhythm to them, which I can't help but to notice.
"I did," Mom answers us, reaching the climax of her story and tickling Wyatt a bit for being silly. "The Elders didn't want me anywhere near you because they were convinced it would affect your ability to cope. But I know you, sweetie, you were too young to do that without help." She faces Aunt Piper and Aunt Phoebe, "you two were doing a great job with her but I knew that if she felt my presence and hear me again she'd stop fighting her emotions. It worked twice over because it helped me too."
"So you won, Aunt Prue?" Chris asks inquisitively as Penny screams.
"Yay!" Penny shrieks when she sees the excitement in her brother's eyes.
"Actually Chris," Mom declares, "I won with the help of Pattie's daddy, your uncle Andy, has she ever told you about him?" Both Wyatt and Chris shake their heads incredulously, whispering 'no' quietly. They're thrilled by yet another family member to learn about. Mom looks at me with a wry smile and I shrug back. I never meant to without information about my dad from them, it'd just never crossed my mind to bring him up.
"Pattie looks like you," Wyatt points out, diverting off topic. Aunt Phoebe bites her lip to keep from laughing when he says that, seems everyone in the family likes to rub it in. "Does Pattie look like Uncle Andy too?"
"She does a little bit especially her smile and eyes," Mom guesses, and I can tell she's trying to picture his face. "But you know how when Pattie tells you to do something you have to listen to her by the tone of her voice?"
"Yes!" Chris cries, folding his arms. "But that's cause mommy pays her to tell us what to do."
"No she doesn't," Wyatt protests, sticking his tongue out at me. "Pattie just wishes she did."
Mom chuckles and I throw Wyatt another glare. She drapes an arm around Wyatt's shoulders, going further into the explanation before my cousins can interrupt again. "Pattie's a lot like her daddy, boys," she tells them, and then returns her stare to me. "He stepped in for me and told the Elders that they owed me and if they stopped me from using magic after making us learn to embrace it that he'd personally go down to Earth himself and get the family involved, and he meant it. Powers or not, they learned not to mess with your father from there on out."
"Daddy did that for me?" I bring a hand to my mouth, astonished. I knew he loved me, but to go to those great lengths just meant the world.
Mom winks at me. "You are his spoiled little girl. He'd move heaven and hell for you."
"I love him, even if I don't say it enough. I've just never really thought about how to deal correctly with his death," I try to explain, if only to satisfy myself. "I never forgot him, but as time went on I made myself stop so I was only grieving one parent at a time."
"Sweetie, he knows that," I'm reassured. "And Andy loves you too. He's probably laughing at us right now."
"His two girls," I say and I'm aware of the way my eyes light up. Mom's do too.
She lets Wyatt and Chris back to the floor and gives Aunt Piper a kiss on the forehead. She watches my mother very carefully, as if noting every detail her mind had forgotten and then summons Penny over to her and hugs the baby close, afraid to let her go. Mom comes to me and envelopes both Aunt Phoebe and I in a tight hug.
"Mom," I interrupt the hug to remind her of something very important. I whisper to her, "Aunt Paige."
Aunt Paige has her back to us now, but she's been watching and listening to this entire conversation without a single word. Considering that this is the woman who always has the witty rebuttal and knows just what to say in every situation even if it's just a miniscule joke to make me laugh, that fact that she's been silenced by this proves is enormous importance.
The manor is practically silent now, even the boys know not to speak and risk ruining the family moments. Aunt Phoebe's eyes gaze into mine, brimming with empathy and concern for Aunt Paige. As far as she knows, they've never met. As far as she knows, Aunt Paige is just feeling like an outsider and awkward in the situation.
But I know the truth, and my mother is conscious of that.
I bet she's been holding her feet in their place and resisting all temptation to go running into Mom's arms. She's tense, that part is obvious enough, and like my other two aunts, Aunt Paige has been waiting years for her chance at reuniting with Mom. It's probably killing her.
Aunt Phoebe gathers with Aunt Piper on the couch when Mom begins to walk away and head towards her. Wyatt and Chris are at Aunt Piper's feet; they begin whispering again, sprawled out and playing a racing game in their small square space. Both babies are lazily lying on their mother's laps, both of whom have their eyes glued to their sisters, anxious to see the outcome of this. It's like a movie theater without the popcorn.
I stay back and clasp my hands in front of me, taking a deep breath. When Mom approaches Aunt Paige and taps her on the shoulder, she absentmindedly drops the empty potion bottle she'd been holding, its smooth surface plummeting towards the floor and exploding into tiny sharp fragments.
Only then does my aunt realize what she's accidentally done and she snaps back into reality. "Oh!" she yelps, bending down instantly to clean the clutter. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"
"Paige," Mom takes hold of her wrist and yanks it away from the glass, facing her directly in the eye. "Paigey, look at me. The mess doesn't matter; you can clean it up later, okay?" I hear Mom's sigh of relief when she finally manages to get Aunt Paige to stop shaking long enough to thrust her into her arms. "I've missed you so much, honey. Once was never enough."
"When you said to never say never, you weren't kidding were you?" Aunt Paige asks, gaping, crying.
"I hoped I wasn't," Mom declares, releasing Aunt Paige from the hug and rubbing her arms soothingly. "I knew there'd be a chance someday, Paige, that we'd see each other again."
Aunt Phoebe stops playing with Kyra and coughs, choking on her own shock. "Again?"
"Paige, I thought you said you'd never met Prue before?" Aunt Piper wants to know, sitting up and looking at Aunt Paige not with anger, but extreme curiosity. "You lied to us."
Aunt Paige squeezes her eyes closed in shame and looks away, but Mom steps up for her in defense. "Paigey, I think it's time they know." She pulls Aunt Paige, who has a steady flow of tears going, close to her and begins to explain. "After Pattie came to me in the past I cast a spell so you guys would forget about everything that had happened. But Pattie and I agreed," she looks to me as if for some support in the matter, "that I needed to go to Paige and tell her things would be okay. So I went the one place she and I had in common."
"That area down by the lake," Aunt Piper supplied without thinking. She'd known both of them had found it comforting but never put two and two together that it was a common space between them.
"Yes," Mom says. "And I told her everything. She didn't believe me at first of course, but I think I sort of convinced her. And then I had to leave her, and we weren't sure that I'd ever see her again." She looks at Aunt Paige tenderly and combs her fingers through Aunt Paige's hair. "And now here we are."
The bond my mother and aunt have is strong for two people who've only met once. It's like they've been communicating through thoughts in the past years. Two sisters who love each other no matter what.
"You were right about everything," Aunt Paige tells her. "I'm glad you came back. I wasn't sure how I was going to do this but then I thought of you and I was okay."
"I'm so glad we found you, Paige. Bringing you into this family is the best thing that's happened to us because of our magical heritage. I'm so proud of you for all you've learned, and for being an incredible aunt to my baby. You know you'll be a great mother," she praises, patting Aunt Paige's baby bump.
"Yeah, and Paige, don't worry," Aunt Piper assures her. "We understand why you didn't say anything now."
Aunt Paige breathes a sigh of heavy relief and allows Mom to hold her like she's done with my other two aunts. It's amazing how the woman who has never let her vulnerable side show relinquished it all to Mom.
"Can you stay for awhile?" Aunt Phoebe picks up the courage to ask. We all raise our heads to this question, nervous to hear what Mom will say, fearing the Elders will take her back as quickly as she came.
But to everyone's delight, she nods. "I think I can." I squeal happily, jumping up and down and hugging her when Aunt Paige lets her go. "I don't know how long I'll get away with it, but it's time to spend some time with my family, just like Grams and Mom have done in the past." She links her arm with mine. "What do you say to that?"
"It's a date," I grin back.
"Well, let's head downstairs to make dinner then, huh?" Aunt Piper perks up, getting to her feet. I can tell we're in for a feast tonight. She suddenly seems so happy, no doubt because Mom's here. Here with us.
Aunt Piper rushes the kids out in front of her in excitement, hosting Penny up into her arms as she does. Wyatt throws his arms up and cheers, "You can see my room!"
"Mine too!" Chris returns his cheer with even more glee.
"We share a room doofus," Wyatt replies as they disappear down the stairs and then the hallway, with Aunt Phoebe not far behind as she snuggles Kyra, who is beginning to fall asleep, in her arms. When Aunt Paige passes to leave, she takes Mom's hand and holds it for a long moment as they lock eyes, and then is gone as well.
It leaves the two of us alone.
We hold each other for what seems like ages, and I try to blink the tears back but they come anyway. Tears of joy and of sadness, I tell her those three simple words, "I love you," I tell her. "I don't know how I've done it without you."
"Hey, what have we discussed here?" Mom reinforces, "You aren't doing it without me. I'll be around as long as you need me, sweet girl. That's my job." We sit down on the couch together and she lets me lean on her.
I lace my fingers in between hers and we stay like that. I listen to the hum of her breathing and smell the scent of her perfume. I wonder if you go to heaven exactly as you were when you died, perfume and all. That part has always confused me, how my family members come back down adorned in different clothes and jewels, but maybe in heaven you can just be whoever you want.
None of these questions escape my lips, leaving some of the mystery still there. I don't ask my mother why she, like the other muses, isn't in one of those floor-length blue robes. I assume it's because she's always put herself above the law, those weren't her style to wear so she refused. After all she's just my muse; the Elders wouldn't be able to enforce that on her. I laugh to myself when I consider all this.
"We should go down for dinner," I decide when the silence begins to give me chills. "Our family is probably wondering where we are and if we got lost or something."
Neither of us moves.
"I think you're right," Mom finally agrees. "We should get ourselves downstairs, you know how Aunt Piper gets when we fail to show up," she continues, trying to be nice about it and creep around the word.
Bluntly, I intercept the statement, "Paranoid."
Immediately she corrects me, "she is overly concerned."
"Paranoid."
She attempts to stifle her laughter but fails in every way, "You're such a smart ass. I wonder who you got that from." I roll my eyes and Mom props a counterfeit image of innocence on her face, it makes me giggle as well. We share another hug and some more tears and finally get the energy topush ourselves up, moving towards the door when suddenly she stops and turns to me. Mom places a hand on my shoulder, "By the way sweetie, I meant to tell you, it was about time when you stopped reading that letter every night and let yourself get some sleep, not that I mind tucking my baby in every night."
With that, she winks at me and then continues on her way downstairs, while I hang back, alone. I begin to laugh because yes, that makes sense. My mother will never change. And right now, she's downstairs.
Waiting for me.
So yes, I guess you could say I got a happy ending, even though that sounds pretty cliché because this isn't a movie. But really, when you think about it, this isn't the end. This is an improvement towards my future and a single chance today to throw care to the wind and be with my mother like old times. I'm going to spend it wisely, and make sure my family never forgets the luck we were blessed with in renewing our feelings with Mom and finally setting the record straight that her death isn't our faults so all of us can move on with a smile.
I wipe the tears from my eyes and do just that, I smile and head downstairs. When I was little, Mom used to tell me that first impressions are important, but everyone always deserves second chances.
I'm glad I got mine.
Eleven reviews? Are you guys serious? You have me in heaven here! It truly makes me smile to know that people have enjoyed reading this story as much as I have loved each second I spent writing it. I was extremely nervous first coming to the site and sharing my work but you made it very easy for me. I've been writing for a long time, but this is the first story of decent length that I've actually ever finished and I wouldn't have had the ability to without your support. So I know I'm getting all sappy here but I'm going to give a shout out to the readers that have left reviews time after time throughout chapters. So thank you PirateQueen716, PiperPaigeP3, littlemissbad, lizardmomma, PrUe AnD AnDy, pruethesoldier, scme, WHYBENORMAL93, Eye-Of-The-Hurricane, future author at work, 'chuffy-barmed-oc', scare85, xcgirl3, SDAngel4p3, H.S. Pumpkin, and Phoenixlighter.
Okay this part is important. I'm considering both sequel and prequel type stories to this. Neither relates exactly to the story, but I love Pattie and she's very much a part of my Charmed world and I'd love to keep her around. I've also got a couple of one-shots planned (Yes Molly, that includes the one I mentioned to you!) but I'd really love to know if you guys like Pattie as much as I do and would like to read up on her more. Should she stay?
As I've said in chapters prior, I plan on posting an epilogue soon. Nothing major, just a final closing to the story much like the prologue, but I thought I'd say everything here. Thanks again for your support!
Megan