"People have their complexities. They have their heroic moments and their villainous moments, too."
-Ryan Reynolds
The next couple weeks had been very stressful. As in, extremely stressful. The authorities had been true to their word in contacting extended family, and it caused a whirlwind of chaos for the siblings. For starters, Melanie's father's family were the only ones who lived in the United States, so they were the ones cops brought in. Second, since Oliver's father was unknown, that meant there was the possibility of him being sent off somewhere Melanie couldn't be. Lastly, Isobel fought tooth and nail to ensure the Salinas siblings not only stayed together, but stayed with her.
Melanie found Isobel's dedication to be heartwarming, but also a bit frustrating. Since Melanie's paternal family were still alive, she could very well be sent off to live with them, which would mean being separated form Oliver. Sure, there was a slim chance of the three year old being put into Isobel's care, but, again, those chances were slim. Needless to say, things weren't really working out the way they were supposed to.
And it only seemed to get worse from there.
...
"She can come live with me." Georgia McNamara, Melanie's middle-aged aunt, had traveled all the way from the South to ensure her niece had a place to stay. It was a bit unsettling, knowing a woman the sixteen year old had never met suddenly wanted take her. Add a couple more unfamiliar relatives, and it made the teen feel as though she were living in some kind of weird nightmare. "I pretty much raised the girl's father," Georgia went on. "There shouldn't be any reason why she should stay here."
"Ms. McNamara, we appreciate your concern, but we need to consider the other relatives, as well." An officer gave the older woman an apologetic smile. "We'll run some background tests on you, and then get back to you as soon as possible, okay?"
"That's nonsense," Georgia snapped. "My niece wasn't a young woman. I'm more than capable to take care of her."
After a couple more minutes of arguing, Georgia was eventually taken out of the policeman's office, leaving the officer and Melanie alone together. There was a long silence that fell over both of them, one that was filled with frustration and defeat.
"I don't feel comfortable with this," Melanie said. "I don't know these people, and suddenly they're coming into my lives."
"I understand this is a frustrating time for you," the officer stated, "but once we have this squared away, you and your brother will have a nice place to live."
"We've been living with Isobel for the last couple weeks, why can't we keep living with her?"
"She's not a blood relative."
"None of the people I've seen today are related to Oliver," Melanie exclaimed, "and I know for a fact you'll try and separate us. I've taken care of him since my mother got sick, you can't just take him away."
With a sigh, the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm doing the best I can here," he murmured. "There's only so much I can legally do. So far, your aunt and a few cousins were the only ones who showed genuine interest in taking you in."
"And that's where I draw the line," Melanie snapped. "My father's relatives never made an effort to see me before. They never cared about me before! I don't need to live with them."
When the officer looked at Melanie, there was a look in his eyes that made the teen uneasy. She couldn't quite explain it, either.
"Would you like to stay with Ms. Giovanni?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Is she a good caretaker?"
"Yes."
"If I interviewed her and your brother, would you be satisfied?"
"Yes."
That seemed to be all the officer needed to hear.
...
While dealing with unfamiliar relatives proved to be unbearable, the one thing Melanie couldn't stand was the change in herself. Ever since the day her mother died, and the day the sixteen year old somehow broke all the glass in Isobel's apartment, there was an unnatural transformation going on in the teen. It was like an energy she couldn't quite explain, one that felt otherworldly. There were moments where, if her emotions were too out of control, Melanie would feel the energy surge a bit, but she'd have to calm herself down before things got too out of hand. There were also moments where she'd feel extremely restless, like she needed to go and release all that pent up energy. It was difficult, if Melanie were being completely honest.
Isobel noticed the change as well, and was trying to be as supportive as possible. She wanted Melanie to be comfortable in her own skin, to feel as though she weren't so different from anyone else. It was a nice thought, but there were a lot of things that set the teen apart from everyone else. In the end, it all went down to skin color. But now, there were unexplained occurrences going on in Melanie's body. There was no way she'd fit in, or feel comfortable, with something like that happening.
"Change isn't always seen as good in the beginning," Isobel would say. "It can take time for people to grow accustomed to them."
But how long was Melanie supposed to undergo this change before she felt comfortable with it? She didn't like how the energy felt. She didn't like how restless she'd get. And she really didn't like how connected it seemed to be to her emotions. It made Melanie feel like an even bigger outcast.
Melanie seemed to be undergoing plenty of "changes" in her life. First with Joni's death — which the teen later found was due to cancer — the next being from ruining Isobel's apartment, and finally from the possibility of being separated from Oliver. None of those changes seemed like things Melanie could grow accustomed to. She wanted her family back, and no matter what, it felt like everything kept pulling them apart.
Letting out a sigh, the sixteen year old brought her legs up to her chest, her arms wrapping tightly around them. She had to think of a way to stay with Oliver and Isobel. Melanie felt comfortable in the Italian woman's presence. And the teen knew very well why she needed to keep her half-brother with her.
There's gotta be something I can do to keep us together, Melanie thought. Her chest constricted at the thought.
...
Isobel stood in the kitchen, preparing a small lunch for Melanie and Oliver. The siblings had been staying with her until things smoothed over with their mother's death. It was heartbreaking, seeing the two looking so lost and confused, but Isobel would do her best to make them feel at least decent.
Before the siblings came into her life, Isobel had absolutely no experience with children — she had none of her own. But as Melanie and Oliver slowly started working their way into her heart, Isobel started to understand the complexities that came with taking care of them. Children needed different levels of reassurance and comfort. Considering Oliver was only three, he needed more than Melanie, in some ways. Since Melanie was older, she wanted to come across as too mature for comfort. Isobel found that to be interesting.
At the same time, however, the Italian woman knew that, deep down, Melanie was probably in just as much emotional pain as Oliver. They both lost their mother, an important figure in their lives. Yes, Joni was essentially dying, but the siblings hadn't expected it to be so soon. Melanie had hopes of her mother overcoming her illness and getting involved in their lives again. Oliver, however, only knew his mother as emaciated and frail. He couldn't recall a time where she wasn't. Either way, it was a saddening sight. Isobel wasn't sure how she, a woman Oliver was unfamiliar with, could bring him comfort or solace.
The one thing Isobel was grateful for were the siblings being allowed to live with her. It was better than Melanie and Oliver being put in child protective custody.
...
In the weeks that had gone by, Bucky had since forgotten about the girl in the pharmacy. Instead, his time was filled with his usual routine. He'd wake up, go to school, spend some time with Steve, go home to spend time with his family, and occasionally go to the Y to box. Bucky was also in the process of starting a job. In the recent months, his family was dealing with the loss of George Barnes, the eighteen year old's father.
There had to be a steady income somehow, and Bucky knew that his mother couldn't do it all by herself. It wouldn't be fair to Winifred to try and care for four children while trying to keep food on the table and a roof over everyone's head. Bucky only wanted what was best for everyone.
But, in all, that was Bucky's life at the moment. There wasn't much else he could do. Well, he'd sometimes go out with pretty girls to pass the time — and to keep himself distracted — but that was pretty much it. The life of Bucky Barnes was in no way exciting or fantastic. He was just doing his own thing.
That is, until he heard some people talking.
It wasn't really unusual to hear people talk, and a lot of the time Bucky learned to ignore it. But there was just something about what he was hearing that caught his attention. It involved a woman named Isobel Giovanni, an Italian immigrant living in the poorer parts of Brooklyn. Add in two black kids, and there was something that struck a deep chord in Bucky's chest.
(A/N):
First off, I'd like to apologize for how long it took to post this. I've been so busy lately that I had to push this off momentarily. Secondly, I know this isn't the best chapter, but I hope you guys can at least tolerate it. Lastly, be sure to leave some constructive criticism where you think it's due. If you're finding things in the story that aren't making sense, please tell me about it! Don't assume that I'll know what's bothering you and somehow fix it. I'm not a mind reader. Constructive criticism is what will help this story develop and become better.
Nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplot, and the bed I sleep on. If you've got ideas for OCs or subplots, be sure to PM me or leave a review. I'll add them in as soon as possible.
Leave random facts in the review section, if you want. It could be on something new or on something old; it doesn't matter to me.
Blessed be, guys,
Florida Mayers