A/N: Another long one ... In the interest of reaching a wedding chapter before Christmas, I hope you don't mind. :)
I can't possibly thank reviewers, readers, and rebloggers enough for all of your support. I'm well aware that where we will end up is not everyone's idea of what should happen, but I love that you've all been along on the journey.
xx,
CSotA
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Daisy kissed her Papa goodbye and almost bolted from his car that morning. Mr. Molesley had told the students at the end of the day yesterday that they'd be meeting a new sub for Miss O'Brien today. He told them she seemed very nice and that they would call her "Miss Stephanie." Daisy had never had a teacher who asked to be addressed by her first name, and she thought that was pretty interesting, indeed.
She hung her coat and now-empty bookbag and carried her notebooks and novel into the classroom. She was early, but she didn't mind; she'd use the time to finish up the book she'd started the day before so that she could return it to Miss Baxter at lunch.
She barely made it into the classroom before she stopped short, surprised by the scene before her.
The room had been completely rearranged: the desks that Miss O'Brien had always kept in strict rows were now assembled in groups of four, stationed around the outside perimeter of the classroom. Daisy noted that they had colorful nametags on them, and she made her way around the room slowly and scanned each desk until she found her own. She checked to see with whom she'd been placed and was pleased to see her desk next to Marigold's - something she knew Miss O'Brien would never have done.
"Good morning!" came a friendly voice from behind her, and Daisy whipped around to see a young woman - Miss Stephanie, she presumed - sitting at the teacher's desk. That had also been moved, Daisy noticed, so that it was off to the side of the room and not in front of all of the students.
"Hi," Daisy said shyly, placing her books on her desk.
Stephanie got up and peeked at where her first arrival had sat. "Daisy Carson, I presume?" She extended her hand, and Daisy shook it gently and nodded.
"Mr. Molesley tells me you're fairly new here, too. Moved at the beginning of the year?"
Daisy nodded.
"Well, Misty Cove seems like a nice town," Stephanie said. "I only arrived a couple days ago, so maybe you can tell me some of your favorite spots later on."
Daisy smiled brightly. "Okay," she said softly.
Stephanie nodded and headed back to her desk.
If this is the young lady who doesn't usually talk to strangers, I'd say this is looking like a promising day, indeed, she thought.
"I still think I should go," Charles huffed. "I should be with you … to support you."
"Beryl offered first, Charles. Besides, you and Daisy need an afternoon together, without me, and Beryl wants to bring me to a dress shop near Becky's home afterwards. Bring Daisy to the library, see a movie, or make dinner with her. Hey, try to find out what she wants to do for her birthday next month." She reached up and patted his cheek. "Just don't forget about my equine and feathered friends, hm? Although Anna will be here later, and I think she's bringing John."
He smiled at her in his defeat. "We won't forget about anyone. And it's not that I don't think Beryl is good enough, you know that -"
"I do," she interrupted. "Of course I know that. But Becky is very comfortable with Beryl, and will likely divulge more - if there is anything to divulge, which I hope to God there isn't - than she would if you were with me. I'm going to try it by myself first, though. I just … I'm not sure anyone else needs to hear whatever Becky may say," she whispered.
"I know," he replied lovingly. "And Beryl will be careful? Drive mindfully, not be slamming on the brakes and hurting you when you're in the car?"
Elsie laughed and shook her head. "You daft man," she said softly. "Of course she'll be careful. She's catering our wedding, remember? She needs me good and healthy for that!"
"True." He drew her into his arms and held her tightly. "I'll miss you. I'm not used to going all day without seeing you."
"We'll be apart for five hours, for heaven's sake!" She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently. "Now, off you go! I think I see Beryl's car coming up the drive."
Charles turned to look out the window just as Beryl was parking by the walkway. "Fine. I'll see you tonight, then. And I think I'll bring Daisy to the store after school and she and I will make dinner, so don't worry about picking anything up."
She squeezed his arm as she moved to get her coat and purse. After a moment, she doubled back and took the cane, too … just in case.
"Perfect," she replied. "Thanks."
On the way to Becky's home, Elsie filled Beryl in on the painful details of why her visit was so urgent.
"My word," Beryl whispered tearfully after hearing Elsie's account of the entire situation. "The poor thing. But you don't know what happened?"
"I don't, and I don't know if she's even going to remember anything at all. I almost hope she doesn't, to tell the truth. I shouldn't think it would matter, except that Sarah and her brother are still out there somewhere."
Beryl shuddered. "Yeah, well, hopefully the police find her, at least. Any news on that front?"
"Actually, yes," Elsie said. "Please keep it to yourself, though, although I don't mind if you tell Bill. Mary said the Chief told her they have video of Sarah purchasing a gasoline can at a Home Depot in Portland. He can't prove that it's the same one they found remnants of at the office, but it's pretty damning even if it is only circumstantial. They searched her apartment in Misty Cove and didn't find one there at all."
"And the brother? Have they contacted him at all?"
Elsie shook her head. "Not yet, but if I were them I'd have someone watching his home at the very least. There's no way of knowing if he knew anything about the fire, and he hasn't been connected to any of the rest of it at all, except in that vile letter."
"Which is why we're here," Beryl said, nodding.
"Yes," Elsie said, her lips set in a firm line as they pulled into the parking lot of the home. "To see what Becky remembers … and to warn them all that Sarah or her brother may show up at the door."
Beryl reached over and squeezed her hand. "You see to Becky, love … and leave Mags and the front desk staff to me."
"You're a godsend, Beryl," Elsie replied, squeezing back. "You really are."
"Ellie!"
Becky ran to her sister and Elsie put a hand up in warning, causing Becky to screech to a halt before careening into her.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Becky whispered. "I forgot you're hurt." She opened her arms and Elsie allowed herself to be wrapped up in a gentle hug, placing a kiss to Becky's cheek as she squeezed her in return.
"That's fine, love, don't worry," Elsie told her sister. She leaned back and brushed her knuckles over Becky's face and patted down her hair. "I am feeling better every day, but I have missed you,my dear."
"I've missed you, too, Ellie," Becky said. "Where's Beryl?"
"She'll be down shortly," Elsie said, taking Becky's hand and leading her to the bed. "Let's sit, Becky, shall we? I have something I want to talk to you about."
"Is it about the wedding with Charlie?" Becky asked excitedly. "And Daisy?"
Elsie smiled fondly at how much Becky was looking forward to that. "No, but we can talk about that after if you like. Beryl has some ideas about the cake and I think she'd like your input," Elsie winked.
"Chocolate," Becky said immediately, nodding.
"I figured as much. Now, Becky … what I need to ask you about is rather important. I don't want you to be afraid to answer my questions, but if you don't remember, it's fine to say so."
"Have I done something wrong?" Becky whispered, her eyes filling with a sudden fear that just about broke her big sister's heart.
"No," Elsie soothed, swallowing a lump in her throat as she took Becky's hand.
"Alright."
"Becky, do you remember Timmy, the nurse who used to work with you?"
Becky's face darkened instantly and she whipped her hand out of Elsie's grasp. "Yes. But I don't want to talk about him."
"You must, Becky, but only for a little bit."
Becky looked up at her sister. "But you said I wasn't in trouble," she insisted, her brow furrowed with worry.
"You're not," Elsie reassured her. "But I need to ask you about that night, alright? You can trust me, love." She laid her hand palm-side up on the bed, and she breathed a sigh of relief when Becky took it again in her own.
"I know. Ellie always takes care of Becky," she whispered.
"That's right," Elsie said. "Now, can you tell me what happened before you and Timmy had a fight?"
"Before? Before I … Before I hit him?"
"Yes, Becky. You must have been very angry with him. I'd like to know why, if you can tell me."
Becky stared at the blanket on the bed, and Elsie felt her sister's hand begin to tremble in her own.
"It's alright," she soothed, rubbing Becky's hand gently with her thumb. "You can trust me, love, remember?"
Becky nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "He tried … He tried to ... kiss me," Becky whispered, and her tears spilled over. "And I didn't want him to."
Elsie clenched her teeth and took a deep breath. "No, I imagine you did not."
"He wouldn't listen," Becky added, "and so I pushed him away. And he got angry, Ellie. So angry. He held me down on the bed and slapped me … I just couldn't help it, I got so angry. I pushed him off me, and started hitting him …" She broke down then, unable to say any more.
Elsie moved over and wrapped her arms around Becky, letting her cry on her shoulder as she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that what Becky had recounted was all that had happened.
"It's alright, sweetheart. It's over now, you know that. I'm going to try and make sure he never sees you again."
"You always told me, Ellie. I did what you said."
Elsie held Becky at arm's length, wiping at her sister's tears. "What did I tell you, love?" she asked, confused.
"You always said that if anyone ever tried to touch me or hurt me that they didn't have a right to do that. You said I should fight back, and that I should tell someone right away. When we moved to London - do you remember how you used to say that? I always remembered, Ellie. Always."
"You did an excellent job remembering that, Becky. I'm so proud of you." Elsie squeezed her sister tightly, and she let Becky cry until she'd run out of tears.
"Why did you ask about it?" Becky said suddenly.
Elsie sighed. She'd been afraid Becky would ask that, but she'd prepared an answer that she hoped would suffice.
"Because his sister used to work with me, and she's been telling lies about her brother. I wanted to prove they were lies, and I knew you could help me to discover the truth. You're so very, very smart, Becky love."
"I am smart about some things," Becky agreed. "Oh!" She popped up from the bed and headed over to her bookshelf, selecting a volume and handing it to Elsie.
"This is for Charlie," she said proudly.
Elsie took the book from her and glanced at the cover.
"Great Expectations," she read aloud, smiling. "This appears new, Becky. Where did you get it?"
"One of the nurses brought it in and gave it to me. She didn't like it, but I already have my own that Beryl gave me on my last birthday," Becky explained. "I know Charlie will like it, though, and I want him to have it. He's my brother now, Ellie."
Elsie beamed at her little sister. "He is, and he will treasure this, Becky. Here," she said, grabbing a pen from her purse. "Would you like to write him a message inside - inscribe it to him?"
"May I? I don't want to ruin it," Becky said with some hesitation.
"No, you won't ruin it," Elsie explained. "Sometimes, when you give someone a book, you add a little message to personalize it. It makes it extra special for the person who receives it."
Becky nodded. "Alright, but you must promise not to read it," she said seriously.
Elsie leaned over and kissed Becky on the forehead. "I promise. I'll wait out with Beryl and Mags, alright? When you've finished, you can come out and join us."
"And then we can visit with Beryl?"
Elsie smiled at her. "Yes, and then we can visit with Beryl."
"Deal."
Daisy helped Charles to set the table while Elsie was carving the turkey breast they'd prepared for dinner. Daisy laughed when Max jumped up onto one of the chairs, but she scolded him just the same.
"Get down, Max," she giggled. "You can't have dinner with us! Yours is in your dish!"
"Ah, but his isn't roast turkey," Charles explained. "Well … I don't think so, anyhow," he added, looking at the bag of kibble with mock concentration.
"I don't think so, either," she laughed.
"Here we are," Elsie said, putting the last of the serving dishes out. "I'm so hungry, and this looks amazing! My compliments to the chefs."
Charles thanked her and made sure she was comfortable before taking his own seat. As they filled their plates, Elsie asked Daisy about her first day with the new teacher.
"Oh, she's great!" Daisy praised. "We did a really fun activity for Social Studies. She put a map of the United States on the floor!"
"Come again?" Charles asked. "As in, she taped a paper map down?"
Daisy shook her head. "No, Papa. She used tape to put the outline of the country down, and then she put in a few states like a jigsaw puzzle. Then she gave each group four more states to put in, and she had some herself, too. When each group had put one state in, she'd add one to the puzzle. By the time we were done, they all fit perfectly! I had Alaska," she added, "so that was easy. I just put it off to the side. When we were finished, we all had to go and draw a star for the capital city, and label it if we knew what it was."
"And how many did you all know?" Charles asked. "That seems quite difficult to me, not being American."
"I knew Maine, Massachusetts, and Hawaii," Daisy said proudly. "And we're learning them this month."
"Did you say you're seated in groups?" Elsie asked.
"Yes - and I'm with Marigold," Daisy said, positively beaming. "And Miss Stephanie said she wants to talk to you, Papa, because she thinks I'm in the wrong reading group."
"Well, even I knew that," Elsie murmured, sending a wink and a smile Daisy's way. "What are you reading now?"
"Charlotte's Web," Daisy said. "Miss Stephanie handed the new books out today, but I read much more in class than what she assigned. She called me to her desk before lunch and asked me to let her know when I'm done with it, because I told her that I usually read faster than the rest of my group."
Charles smiled proudly at his daughter. "That's wonderful, Daisy. I'm glad you spoke up for yourself, petal – good for you."
The rest of dinner passed fairly uneventfully, with each of them making small talk and discussing the upcoming wedding.
"Mary is thrilled that we want to use the house," Charles said as went to fetch the pie they'd made for dessert. "I think it's giving her something happy to focus on."
"Can I help to decorate?" Daisy asked, and Elsie nodded.
"Yes, and I think Aunt Becky wants to help with that as well. I may put you two ladies in charge of that, if you don't mind?"
Daisy's eyes lit up and she nodded. "Oh, yes, please!"
Charles caught a glance from Elsie as Daisy started in on her dessert. He pursed his lips and nodded, knowing they had other things to discuss.
"Daisy," he ventured, "Elsie and I have something else we need to talk over with you."
"Okay," Daisy replied hesitantly. "Is it about the wedding?"
"No, it's not about the wedding."
"Daisy, do you know what a foster family is?" Elsie asked.
Daisy shook her head. "No."
"Well, it's a home where a child can live if they're unable to live at their own home," she explained. "Like if their parents are unable to care for them, in some way."
"Alright." Daisy furrowed her brow.
"And Elsie chose a number of years ago that her farm should be one of those homes, should any child in Misty Cove need one," Charles added. "But it was a long time ago, and she never needed to provide a space for anyone … until now."
Daisy tilted her head, trying to follow the conversation, but clearly something was escaping her.
"So, someone is moving in with us?"
Elsie looked at Charles, but he nodded for her to continue.
"That's quite possible, Daisy," she said. "You see, Tommy might need a place to live."
"But he's living with Jimmy's family!" she laughed. "Mrs. Kent is taking care of him, and his Papa … well, he's coming home, isn't he?"
"No, Daisy. He's not coming back," Elsie explained.
"But … why not?"
Charles wasn't sure how to explain it, so he decided to settle for the basic truth.
"Tommy's Papa was not his real father. Only no one but Mr. and Mrs. Barrow knew that … until recently, that is."
"Oh. Well, then … maybe that's good," Daisy breathed, surprising both of the adults.
"I'm sorry?" Charles said.
"Well, he was mean sometimes, wasn't he? To Tommy. I think … well, I know he was," she managed.
Elsie nodded. "Yes, he was," she agreed. "Which is one reason why, even if he were to return, Tommy would most likely be sent to a safer place to live."
"Like here?"
"Like here," Charles confirmed. "And Mrs. Kent is very good to Tommy. But, in order to take a child in permanently, one needs to have had their home approved by the people in charge of all of that," he tried. "And she hasn't done that."
"Maybe her house isn't big enough," Daisy suggested. "Tommy said he's sleeping on Jimmy's bed, and Jimmy's sleeping on the floor."
"Yes, that's one other thing to consider."
"So … Tommy's going to stay here? With us?"
"I believe so, yes. Is that alright with you?" Elsie asked.
"Oh, yes," Daisy said, nodding. "It'll be like having a brother, sort of."
"Sort of like that, perhaps," Charles agreed hesitantly. "He'd take the room next to yours."
"He must be so very sad," Daisy whispered, twiddling her fingers under the table. "To have lost his Mama, and his Papa not wanting him."
Charles's eyes misted over, and he nodded. "Yes," he whispered, the long-ago pain of his childhood seeping into his heart once again. "I'm sure it's quite hard on him."
"Well, we'll have to make him happier," Daisy decided. "When he's ready."
"He could be coming as early as Monday, I think," Elsie added. "Do you think we can prepare his room over the weekend? What do you think he'd like?" she asked Daisy.
"I'm not sure," she replied, "but I'll try to find out tomorrow." She gave a brisk nod, sealing the deal.
Elsie watched as Charles gathered the dirty dishes and brought them into the kitchen, and then turned back to Daisy. "Thank you, sweetheart," she said to the girl. "I'm glad that you're alright with Tommy coming here."
"How long will he stay?"
"Well, we aren't really sure. But I'd say, if things go well, he can stay as long as he needs to."
"He has Aunt Mary now, doesn't he? Is he going to live with her some day?"
"I don't know," Elsie said. "But probably not, at least … not for quite a while, if ever. He doesn't really know her at all."
"But he knows us."
Elsie smiled at her and nodded.
"Yes, he does. And we're going to have to give him space, but also be extra nice to him as these next weeks go by, alright?"
Daisy nodded. "Yes. We know how it is when our Mummy dies, don't we?" she asked, looking up at Elsie, who saw the sadness in Daisy's eyes and knew it was reflected in her own.
"That we do."
Charles slid into bed that night with a deep sigh.
"What a day," he breathed, leaning over to kiss Elsie's forehead as she finished the last chapter of the book she'd been reading.
"Mm," she hummed, turning the page.
He watched her as her eyes danced over the words, a smile breaking out on her face as she came to the last bit and closed the book gently.
"It was just as good the fifth time, I presume?" he teased.
"It's my favorite of Austen's novels," she sighed happily. She laid the book on her nightstand and picked up a wrapped package, handing it to Charles. "Speaking of reading, this was sent for you today."
He furrowed his brow, taking the package from her. He shook it by his ear, feigning ignorance. "You shouldn't have told me what it was," he muttered, and she smiled at him and shook her head.
"Daft man," she whispered, reaching up to brush a wayward curl from his forehead with her fingertips. "Just open it."
He pulled off the messily-tied ribbon, already suspecting the true giver of the gift from its misshapen bow and the childlike wrapping. Tearing the paper off and casting it aside, he turned the book right-side up and read the title.
"Great Expectations," he said softly, smiling and shaking his head. "Dickens, of course." He looked at Elsie. "I presume this is from my new sister?"
She nodded, beaming at him for the use of the familial word. "Go on, then. Open it," she encouraged him.
He pried open the cover and read the inscription, written in Becky's signature scrawl:
To Charlie, because I love you. And because you take care of Ellie. And because I always wanted a brother to talk to.
Love,
Becky
Elsie watched as his lip quivered. He wiped at his eyes but could only manage to shake his head, feeling foolish. He tried to hand the book to Elsie, but she put her hand up and pushed it back to him.
"No," she whispered. "She told me not to read it; she said it was for your eyes only."
He laughed a bit and nodded, then set it on the bedside table. "I don't have that one," he said softly. "I'm not sure why, but it's one I never acquired. I don't think I ever mentioned it to her, though. And most of my books are still in boxes at the beach house, anyhow." He licked his lips and turned to his fiancée. "I shall treasure it always," he said seriously. "And her."
"I already knew that," she said lovingly. "Come here," she added, pulling him down beside her.
He hummed in her ear as he kissed it, moving his way down to her neck as she tilted her head to allow him easier access. His hands began to roam her body, and he smiled as he lifted her nightshirt and his hand brushed over only skin as it traveled up and across her hip.
"Someone came to bed a bit underdressed," he teased quietly.
"Someone missed you these last couple of crazy days," she replied, reaching her hand behind his head and pulling him down for a kiss. "And someone is afraid that starting next week, these evening activities will be a bit fewer and farther between if we have to get accustomed to a new house guest."
"I'm sure we can find time," he murmured against her lips. His tongue glanced across them, seeking entrance which she readily gave.
As they kissed hungrily and he moved over her, Elsie sighed with utmost happiness.
"I never imagined this," she whispered, her hands reaching up and grasping the hair at the nape of his neck, her fingernails scratching at his scalp as she did so. "Ever."
"I hope I'm not a disappointment," he said, a playfulness in his eyes.
"Hardly," she reassured him, her eyebrows raised as she reached down to guide him.
He looked deep into her eyes as he joined them at last, moving slowly and gently within her. As he got lost in the familiar sea of their love - whispered words, worshipful sounds - the last coherent though he managed was that his life was complete.
Monday, April 13
Elsie jumped when the phone rang by her side. She'd been dozing on the chair in the living room while reading her book, but she had been expecting the call.
"Phyllis?"
"Elsie, you're all set. I just got back from the office in Portland and you're approved! Tommy can move in at any time."
"You're sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," Phyllis laughed. "I've sent a note to his study hall teacher to send him down after lunch, and I'll talk to him then."
Elsie felt a nervous twinge in her stomach. "What if he doesn't want to come?" she asked, worried.
"I'm not sure what we'd do," Phyllis admitted. "Mrs. Kent could apply to become a foster parent if she wanted to, I suppose. In the meantime, I think the court would look for Tommy's next living relative, though."
"Which is Mary."
"Yes. And before you ask, I have spoken with her. She called me this morning."
"She what?"
"Ha! That was my reaction, too. But she wanted to know if she had a legal responsibility to take Tommy in. She's not in a good place, Elsie. I've encouraged her to seek Charles out, and her family, and I think she will. But if it were my decision, her home would not be on a short list of places I'd send him just now."
"No," Elsie said, nibbling on the corner of her lip, "I bet not."
"I'll call you after I see Tommy, alright? If it all goes well, would you be able to take him in today?"
"We would," Elsie assured her. "We spent most of the weekend getting the spare room ready just in case. Daisy even managed to find out a few things about him, like his favorite color and such, and we tried to work those things in."
"Excellent. She's such a thoughtful girl, you know."
"I do," Elsie said, smiling.
"Do you think Charles could bring him by his house today if all goes as planned? That was something Mary and I discussed, actually. The house is technically hers now, and she'll want to rent it eventually but is in no rush to do so now. Still, though, Tommy will need to move more of this things into your place that what he brought to the Kents' house. And then, when Mary moves forward, she and Tommy can decide what to do with the rest. She'll bring the key by your place sometime this afternoon, if that's alright."
"I'll be here," Elsie sighed. "Oh, Phyllis … that poor woman. All this and she has to plan a funeral for her husband, too - whom she didn't even like. I feel sorry for her … and you know I never thought I'd say that."
"Yes, well, circumstances change," Phyllis mused. "I'd forgotten about the funerals. Who's handling Laura's, do you know?"
"Well," Elsie ventured, "Charles and I discussed that last night, actually. I wondered if I would call Mrs. Kent and see if she'd like to help Tommy and I do that. I'll ask Tommy first, of course. It should be his decision, in part. But clearly Laura's husband will be useless, and that poor woman deserves to be laid to rest in peace."
"Well," Phyllis said softly, "I'll certainly support you in any way I can. In fact, I'm sure Edith will want the entire staff to contribute to that."
"Probably. How's she doing?"
"Fine. Getting big," Phyllis said, "but she's had a good couple of weeks, all things considered."
"Good. Alright, call me later. And, Phyllis? Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Elsie managed to keep busy while Charles was at the school picking up Daisy. Phyllis hadn't called but Elsie wasn't terribly surprised by that, knowing as she did how busy days could get at the school on a normal day, let alone one where the kids would all have been discussing the fire and, more specifically, the now-public identities of the two people who'd perished in it. An article had appeared in the Sunday paper, which was being published by the next town over and distributed to the residents of Misty Cove, and she was sure everyone had seen it by now. She was glad Tommy had chosen to go to school, though, knowing from personal experience that a normal routine would help him more than anything else. It had now been a full week since the fire; in some ways, it seemed like a month, but in others it seemed like mere hours.
When Charles finally arrived, much later than she'd expected, Elsie was shocked to see that he already had Tommy with him. She had expected Tommy to be dropped off later on by Mrs. Kent or perhaps even Phyllis. As she watched both kids get out of the car and head to the barn she took a deep, cleansing breath, and stepped out the front door.
Charles approached her with a calm demeanor about him, and she relaxed instantly, knowing that Tommy must be there of his own volition, at least in part.
"Alright, then?" she asked, and he nodded.
"It is," he confirmed, dropping a kiss to her smiling lips. "I arrived to pick up Daisy, and Tommy was waiting with her. Phyllis was with them, and she asked me into her office. We went over a few things," he said, glancing at the barn, "and then stopped off at the Kents to pick up the things he had there."
He reached for Elsie's hand and nodded toward the living room; they both headed back into the house and sat on the sofa.
"He seems fine," Charles said. "I think perhaps he's operating on autopilot, just trying to make it through the days. The sadness, the unknowns … I think school is the only thing he can count on, and he seemed happy to have been there."
"I agree. It's the one constant in his life at the moment. I hope he thinks of us in that way, eventually."
"He may," Charles said. "We're going to the house shortly, so that he can pack a few things." He raised his eyebrows. "He wanted to see his room here first."
"Good. I hope he thinks of it as his," she mused. "Perhaps once his things are there." She hesitated, then added, "You're sure you're alright bringing him there alone?"
"I am," Charles reassured her. "To be honest, I think it'll be good to have some time alone with the boy, as uncomfortable as it makes me … and, no doubt, him."
She reached out and cupped his face, smiling fondly when he turned to kiss her palm.
The ride to Tommy's old house was fairly short, but neither he nor Charles could find anything to say, each of them lost in his own thoughts.
When Charles pulled up in front of the house and parked, he handed the key to Tommy.
"I'll come in and help you, then," he stated, his tone of voice leaving no room for argument.
"Thanks," Tommy said.
Charles looked at the boy, noting that the color had drained from his face.
"Are you ready for this, Tommy? I mean … well, we can come back another time, if you'd like?"
"I don't think it'll be any easier then," Tommy said sagely. "Will it?"
Charles shook his head. "No, I don't think so."
"Right, then," Tommy nodded. "I have a few things I'd really like to take today, and then maybe we can come back this weekend?"
"Whenever you'd like," Charles said supportively.
"I wish Elsie had been able to come," Tommy whispered, and then he realized how that sounded and looked up at Charles, worried. "I didn't mean it like -"
"I know what you meant, Tommy," Charles interrupted, reassuring the boy. "No hard feelings. She's rather a calm and no-nonsense presence when you need one."
The boy smiled at him faintly and nodded. "Exactly."
"Let's go, then, shall we? Because she'll have my head if we're late for dinner," Charles teased.
They made their way up to the porch and unlocked the door, and Tommy led Charles inside. He reached out to turn on the light, and Charles took a moment to gaze around at the room.
The furniture was solid but looked old, he remarked. There were a few framed photos on the wall; upon closer inspection, he noted that they were all of Tommy, and all school photos at that. There were no personal, candid photos, no wedding picture, and no evidence that the elder Mr. Barrow ever lived there: no pipe on the table, no umbrella in the stand; none of his shoes on the rack, and no man's coat on the hook. It was as if, when he'd left, his wife had removed any trace that he'd ever existed at all.
Tommy disappeared down the hall, and it occurred to Charles that he should check the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and pulled everything out; locating the trash, he dumped everything, tied the bag shut, and brought it out to the trash barrel. He remembered that no one had thought to do that at his parents' house and that, once he'd finally gotten there himself, it had been a horrible task. He gave the pantry cupboard a quick glance but didn't see much in it at all, and nothing that would perish soon anyhow.
He made his way down the hall, thinking perhaps Tommy might need a hand.
"Tommy?" he called softly.
He heard a sniffle and poked his head around the corner, but all he saw was the room he presumed to be Tommy's … empty.
"I'm in here," Tommy's voice came from across the hall, and Charles crossed into the second bedroom. He found Tommy sitting on his parents' bed, crying softly into a pillow that he was clutching to his chest.
"Well, now," Charles said, his quiet voice rumbling as he sat down next to Tommy. "I should have thought I'd find you in here."
"Why?" he sniffled, wiping furiously at his eyes.
"Because it was your Mum's room," Charles said simply. "It makes sense you'd want to spend time surrounded by her, doesn't it?"
"I guess."
Charles sighed. "When Daisy's mother died, we were about to be divorced. We didn't have any of her things in my house then, and I didn't get on well with the man she'd been living with. But Daisy insisted on going there - made me bring her by the flat - and so we went.
"When we arrived, I wasn't sure what to expect. But Daisy knew what she wanted. She ran straight for the bedroom - her Mum's, not her own - and dove straight onto the bed." He reached out and tugged gently on the corner of the pillow that Tommy was holding. "For one of these," he added with a sad smile, shaking his head. "It smells like her, doesn't it?"
Tommy nodded, blushing. "It's stupid."
"It's not," Charles insisted. "It makes you feel … close to her, I suppose."
Tommy nodded again. "It does," he whispered harshly, burying his face in the pillow again.
"Bring them both," Charles said, nodding toward Laura's other pillow as he gently clapped Tommy's shoulder. "Bring whatever you wish. And if you forget something, we'll come back."
He handed Tommy a handkerchief. "I'll get the boxes we brought out of the car," he said quietly. "You take your time and let me know when you're ready to fill them, alright?"
"Yeah," Tommy whispered, wiping his eyes and then blowing his nose. "Thanks."
Charles pursed his lips and nodded, then got up and headed out for the boxes. He'd brought three, not really knowing what Tommy would need but figuring at least the largest of them would be suitable for the majority of his clothing. He carried them into the living room and set the smaller two on the sofa, taking a minute to secure the bottom of the largest with some packaging tape.
Tommy emerged from the hallway and set the pillows on the sofa by the remaining boxes, then wordlessly took the one Charles had just assembled and headed to his bedroom.
Alright, then … Charles reached for the second box and set it and the third up with a securely-taped bottom. He waited, not sure of what to do, and his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He smiled when he saw Elsie's text:
You boys managing alright? x
He heard a dresser drawer slide shut and typed a quick reply:
Yes. He's packing clothes.
OK. Give him space.
That's why I'm standing in the parlour, texting you. Love you. Home soon.
She sent one last answer, making him smile again:
Can't wait. x
He pocketed the phone as Tommy was coming down the hall dragging what appeared to be a very heavy, very full box, which he deposited next to the chair by the end table.
Charles picked up the other two boxes and handed one to Tommy. "Care for some help?"
"Yeah, sure. Thanks," Tommy shrugged - trying for a nonchalance that wasn't fooling either of them.
Charles nodded, and followed the boy back down the hall.
Into the boxes went a variety of items, some of which made Charles take pause, not that he'd have said anything: photos, some of Laura's jewelry and one of her scarves, a few books, a photo album, a couple of toys - those things he expected; the coffee mug, pen and pencil set, mantle clock, and a few knick-knacks - those he couldn't possibly explain. Regardless, they meant something to Tommy, and so each was carefully wrapped in newspaper and placed in the box.
"I cleaned out the kitchen," Charles volunteered, "and we should leave the trash barrel by the road. When's your trash picked up?"
"Fridays," Tommy answered.
"Alright, I'll come back then and bring the barrel back up." He hefted the clothing box and Tommy grabbed the one holding the books and toys, and they put them into the car. They went back for the last box, which Charles picked up effortlessly while Tommy went around and turned off the lights. He came back to the living room and grabbed the pillows off the sofa, clutching them tightly and taking a deep breath before looking up at Charles.
"It may surprise you to hear it, Mr. Carson, but I've been happy here," he said, his voice wavering. "She made it nice, and she did the best she could. Sometimes it wasn't bad at all."
"I have no doubt about that, Tommy," Charles said, standing up a bit straighter as he evaluated the condition of the boy before him: shaken, he thought, and barely holding it together. "Let's go. Elsie will be wondering where we are, hm?"
"Yeah," Tommy said, heading out the front door.
Charles locked up and deposited the box in the trunk with the others before taking his seat behind the wheel.
"You don't have to call me 'Mr. Carson,' Tommy. It's Charles." He chuckled, then added, "Or Charlie, if you prefer, which is what Elsie seems to have everyone calling me these days."
Tommy looked at him seriously, as if assessing the man beside him.
"Charles, I think," he said, nodding. "Thanks."
"Well, that's alright, then," Charles said, starting the car.
Dinner was a fairly quiet affair, with Elsie managing to keep the conversation flowing by discussing the farm, school, and potential plans for the upcoming weekend. She didn't bring up the funeral, but she knew she and Tommy would have to discuss that soon.
Tomorrow, she promised herself as she stole a look at the boy now sitting to her right.
"Showers, then," she said when everyone was finished. "Daisy, why don't you go first?"
Daisy nodded and did as she was told, and Tommy and Charles cleaned up after dinner.
"Thank you," Charles said to him, and Tommy nodded.
When it was Tommy's turn in the shower, Charles joined Elsie in the sunroom and handed her a glass of wine.
"Daisy's finishing up a bit of homework," he said, explaining his girl's absence, and Elsie nodded.
"Thanks for this," she said, holding up the glass, and he clinked his against it.
"Here's to new changes - may they go smoothly," he said with a tilt of his head, and she smiled and nodded before sipping the deep, velvety red wine.
"Oh, that's a good one," she praised, and he smiled at her.
"Well, it's not every day we do this," he said, nodding in the general direction of Tommy's room.
"Don't I know it," she sighed.
Elsie looked up the steps and saw Tommy heading back to his room; a few minutes later, she heard Daisy in there, too, and Max's nails scurrying back and forth across the floor.
She and Charles looked at each other, curious, and made their way to the dining room, where they stood and listened to what, exactly, was going on. They remained silent, neither wanting the children to realize they were being overheard.
"Come on in, buddy," Daisy said. "Come see Tommy."
They watched Max trot into Tommy's room, and Elsie looked at Charles and mouthed, I think he just jumped onto the bed.
They heard Tommy murmuring something they couldn't quite make out, and then Daisy answered, "Well, I'll leave his bed here, but he'll probably sleep with you." Then a pause, and she added, "I thought he might make you feel a bit better. He's a really good boy."
"Yeah," Tommy answered, "he seems like it. I never had a dog, but I like Max."
"He used to come in and cuddle with me when I was sad at night," Daisy said quietly.
Charles looked at Elsie, who wrapped her arm around him in a tight, sideways hug, no words necessary or even adequate to address how they both were feeling as they listened to the exchange.
"It was awful," Daisy told Tommy.
"It's why you didn't talk, isn't it?" he asked her.
"Yeah. But that's easier now. I don't know why, really. It … It just is."
"What's it like, living here?"
Elsie heard the bed creak and realized Daisy must have joined him on it.
"Nice. It's great living with the horses, being able to be with them every day. I talk to them a lot," she confided. "I was supposed to at first, I know that, but … well, they don't talk back, you know? They just listen." Max's tags jingled, and Elsie knew they must be cuddling him. "Like you, huh, Max?"
Daisy and Tommy giggled, and Elsie presumed one of them had just received a very wet dog kiss.
"And you work, right? Have chores and stuff?"
"Some," Daisy said. "Papa does a lot, and Anna and John, because Elsie still can't do anything in the barn. She doesn't leave the house, really. But she's supposed to come back to school soon."
"Good," Tommy said. "Everyone misses her."
"Yeah, I bet. It's nice, being here. She's a good ..." She hesitated, and Charles leaned over and kissed Elsie's temple, knowing what was coming.
"She's a good Mum," Daisy said softly. "Not that you want another one, I know. But, well, she takes care of us … like a Mum should. And she's really nice."
"Yeah, but you don't get in trouble anyway," Tommy scoffed. "So she's likely never angry with you."
"Well, then don't get in trouble," Daisy said simply, causing Elsie to snort with laughter.
Charles looked at her, then tilted his head toward the bedrooms: Shall we? Elsie nodded, and they joined the kids.
"Getting settled in, then?" Charles asked.
"Trying to," Tommy said. He looked up at Elsie and added, "Thanks for letting me stay here."
Elsie made her way over to him and ruffled his hair, making him blush a bit. He got choked up and tried to stop his tears from coming again, but he couldn't quite manage it.
Elsie sat gingerly beside him and wrapped her arms around him, letting him cry on her shoulder once again.
Charles reached out for Daisy's hand and gave it a little tug. "Come on," he whispered, and she followed him back to her own room.
Elsie sat and held Tommy until his sobs quieted, rubbing his back the entire time.
"Sorry," he snuffled, wiping at his nose.
"No," Elsie said firmly, and he looked up sharply.
"Don't ever be sorry for how you feel, Tommy, do you hear me? You need to let it out, Tommy. If you don't, it'll eat you alive."
He nodded, already having felt some of what she was explaining.
"We're here for you, but it's not going to be easy at first. You're going to be sad and angry and hate it here sometimes, and that's alright. But please, let us help you through it. Don't ever forget that Charlie and I want you here - Daisy, too." She ruffled his hair again. "Otherwise, we wouldn't have worked so hard to get you here."
"Thanks," he managed. "I can still work here, right? I mean, I am sure you need stuff done."
"Absolutely," she confirmed. "I'm not sure what I'd have done without you before I got hurt, Tommy. I am sure we can find things for you to do now that you're here all the time."
"Well, you didn't have Charles living here then," he pointed out with a smirk.
She laughed softly. "Perhaps not," she allowed, "but he can't do it all." She leaned forward and whispered, "He's no kid anymore."
Max shifted and laid his head in Tommy's lap, nudging the boy's hand until he earned a pat on the head.
"Can he really sleep in here?" Tommy asked, indicating Max, and Elsie nodded.
"I'm sure he'd love it," she whispered, reaching out to scratch Max's ear. "And we're right down the hall; if you need anything, just come and get one of us, alright?"
"Yeah, well … that might be weird," Tommy said, flushing as he reminded himself that Elsie was, in reality, kind of like a teacher.
"Perhaps," she admitted with a smile, "but you'll get used to it."
"Elsie?"
"Yes?"
"She needs a funeral. My Mum, I mean. Obviously," he added with a slight eye roll. "But I don't know how that happens."
Elsie reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "We'll take care of that when the time comes, I promise. I've got some ideas, and we'll need your input every step of the way. No one knew her as well as you did, after all."
Tommy nodded. "Okay. I just don't want him there."
"I don't think we have to worry about that," she said, a steely glint of something in her eyes, something Tommy thought he recognized, and it surprised him - it looked like hate, but he couldn't be quite sure, because he never associated that with Elsie before.
And then he remembered when the social worker came by the house, and how he'd told Elsie about that; he remembered how he knew she'd sent someone, and how she'd confirmed it without saying a word. And he remembered how he knew that minute that she was watching out for him, and how he'd understood instantly that Elsie would do what she had to in order to protect him.
"I forget sometimes … about you, about what you told me. How you understand."
"It's hard to deal with your feelings when you love and hate someone at the same time," she said softly. "But we're here to help you through it all, I promise."
"Okay," he yawned.
"Alright. Time for bed, I think," Elsie said. She got up and looked at the shelves, noticing for the first time that he'd unpacked the things he'd brought. She smiled at the picture of Tommy and Laura that was set out in the exact center of the bottom shelf, realizing he'd put it there so he'd see it from his bed.
"She had it in her room," he said softly. "From last summer, when we went to the beach."
Elsie nodded as she ran her hands over the books, noting a few of the titles.
"Are you much of a reader, Tommy?" she asked.
"Yeah. Horror, mostly," he said, "as you can see."
"I've read a few of these," she said, moving on to the neighboring shelf. "Oh, what a lovely clock. It looks quite old."
"It was my Granddad's," he said lovingly. "My Mum's Dad. He died when I was ten, but he was a clock maker. He made that one, and he gave it to Mum when she was a little girl. It was her favorite thing in the house."
His face darkened, and he added more quietly, "My … no … Her husband broke it once, but I managed to fix it."
Elsie turned to him and sighed. "It's alright to still think of him as your father, Tommy. That's how you knew him for so many years -"
"No," he cut her off firmly. "I can't. He didn't love me like one, anyhow. I understand that now."
"Well," she said, "it's a lovely clock. Charlie has an antique one that he got for his birthday. Maybe you can teach him a thing or two about it?" she suggested with a half-smile.
"Oh, yeah," he said, his eyes lighting up. "I'd love to. I've seen that out there; it's really lovely."
"Well, then, we'll work on that tomorrow, maybe. But now you should try to sleep, young man," she said sternly, but he saw the mischief in her eyes.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, yawning again as he tucked down under the blankets.
"Goodnight," she said softly. "And remember … just down the hall."
"Got it. 'Night. And thanks."
"You're welcome."
Elsie left the door open a crack in case Max had to get out. She found Charles in their bedroom, where he'd moved the glasses of wine that he'd topped off.
"Everything alright?" he asked, and she nodded.
"About as good as it can be, for now," she said. "I left him snuggled up with Max and one of the pillows he brought."
"Laura's," Charles said by way of explanation, and Elsie nodded her understanding.
"Come here," Charles said once she'd changed into her nightclothes. He'd built the pillows up against the headboard and she crawled up on to the bed, sitting between his legs and leaning back slightly on his chest. They sat quietly for a while, drinking their wine as they allowed themselves to get lost in their own thoughts.
"I love you," she said eventually. "For this," she added, "and everything else."
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, and then he rested his chin on her shoulder.
"I love you, too, Els. More than anything."
A word or two in review would be lovely. Thanks so much to you all! x