A/N: Um … I think of this as the "love it or leave it" chapter of this story - as in, after finishing, you'll likely reaffirm that you love this story or … not.
Please do leave me a review at the end if you are able, and I promise that I'll reply if I can.
xx,
CSotA
There's enough love in this world
to wash away all the pain,
sadness, sorrow, rain …
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Three weeks and two days until the wedding
Elsie, Beryl, Anna, and Daisy all piled into Charles's Volvo. It was just shy of nine in the morning, and everyone was still a bit groggy - particularly Daisy, who'd been up late the night before, reading the book she was trying valiantly to finish.
"Have a wonderful time," Charles said, kissing Elsie through the open passenger-side window. He leaned in front of her and added to Beryl, who was seated in the driver's seat, "And take good care of my car, please."
"What are you so afraid of?" Beryl asked indignantly. "I do know how to drive, thank you very much."
"You drive like a mad woman," Elsie laughed. "So any funny business and Anna's jumping into that seat. One of my kids is in that back seat, Beryl."
She turned and shot Daisy a smile and a wink; Daisy quickly turned back to her book, but the brilliant smile on her face couldn't be missed by anyone, and Anna gave the girl a little nudge and a wink of her own.
"Yeah, yeah," Beryl grumbled playfully as she slid the gear shift into Drive and headed out to the road.
As most of them had skipped breakfast, Beryl went through the drive-thru of the coffee shop to stock them all up on coffee, tea, and pastries. They spent most of the first part of their trip in silence, but once she finished her coffee, Elsie found herself voicing one of the things on her mind.
"A forty-five-year-old bride," she mused, tapping her finger on her knee as she gazed out the window and over the ocean. They were following the seaside to Becky's home, after which they'd head down to a dress shop in Portsmouth. "Becky has already teased me - said I waited long enough."
"Aw, I don't think there's anything wrong with that," Anna chimed in.
"That's because your husband is almost the same age!" Beryl laughed.
"True," Anna acknowledged with a smile, "but there's something to be said for waiting for the right person, isn't there?"
"I wholeheartedly agree, Anna," Elsie said, a fond smile on her face as they pulled up to Becky's home. "It certainly paid off for us."
Elsie got out and went inside to fetch Becky, who was waiting by the front door for her.
"Ellie! I'm ready to go! We're buying my dress today, right?"
Elsie wrapped her sister in a hug and smiled. "Hopefully we are, love. And my dress, too, if you don't mind!"
"And Daisy's too, right? Is she in the car?"
"She certainly is, and she cannot wait to see you. You'll be sharing the backseat with her and Anna, so you'll have plenty of time to get caught up."
Elsie signed the book that Mags handed her, promising they'd have Becky back before bedtime.
"We'll be having dinner on the way home," Elsie clarified, and Mags nodded.
"Oh, believe me, I know," she said, chuckling. "All I've heard about for two days now is that restaurant."
"Well, it seemed fitting," Elsie said softly. "Charles and I had our first date there, and it's right up Becky and Daisy's alley. But we'll be back by eight, I promise."
"Have a fabulous time," Mags said, coming around to give Elsie a hug. "And congratulations, Elsie. Your Charles seems like quite the catch."
"That he is," Elsie agreed, beaming. "I'm so very lucky to have found him."
"Oh, I'd say he's pretty lucky, too," Mags said with a wink. "Now off you go - and God help you if there's no Boston cream donut in that car for her."
Becky laughed, but then stopped abruptly and turned to look at Elsie.
"There is one, isn't there, Ellie?"
"Yes," Elsie laughed, taking Becky's hand. "In fact … there may be two."
Becky squealed with delight as they headed out, Mags looking after them with a smile and giving a small wave when Becky turned around to bid her goodbye.
"Here we are!"
Beryl pulled into the parking lot and everyone sighed with relief, anxious to have gotten off the highway. It had been rather congested with traffic - vacationers for the summer, no doubt - but that hadn't caused Beryl to slow down at all.
"Thank God," Anna muttered. "Here in one piece."
"I heard that, thank you very much," Beryl said sharply, causing Daisy to giggle.
"Come on," Elsie said. "Anna can drive home, perhaps."
"Sounds good to me," Beryl grumbled, but her tone immediately improved when she spotted the display window of the bridal shop.
"Ohh," she breathed, "Daisy - look." She pointed to the window, and Daisy gasped: there, in the largest of the three display areas, was a collection of dresses specifically made for flower girls and junior bridesmaids.
Elsie noted the dresses and immediately, albeit silently, picked out her favorite two of the five and hoped that Daisy would agree, and they walked in for their appointment.
"Good morning!" The loud voice virtually echoed throughout the small shop, and Elsie's eyes combed the place, but to no avail.
"Good morning?" she called out hesitantly.
"Elsie Hughes, right? I'll be right out … just … grabbing … some … things," came the voice again, this time amidst the crumpling of what sounded like various garment bags and a clicking of clothes hangers in what Elsie presumed was the back room of the place.
Beryl just rolled her eyes at Elsie.
"Well," Elsie said quietly, "at least he's going to be prepared."
"Right," Beryl quipped. "There's always that. I assumed a woman owned the shop. My mistake, evidently." She turned to the rack nearest them. "Oh, Elsie, look! It's the one in that catalog I showed you."
Elsie looked at the dress Beryl was holding and held her breath, hoping she wouldn't have to voice her opinion about it aloud. Beryl meant well, but what she'd chosen simply wasn't what Elsie had in mind.
Just then a mountain of dresses in zippered bags, presumably containing dresses, emerged from the back door - held, Elsie believed, by the owner of the mysterious voice.
"Sorry about that," said the man underneath the bags. He moved over to the empty rack waiting by the dressing room area and hung them one by one on the rod. "Took the liberty of pulling out a couple of things after speaking with you the other day …"
Elsie made her way over to the man and offered her hand, noting how his lank brown hair was much too long on top and kept falling in his face. "I'm Elsie," she said, her eyes glancing at the purple tape measure that hung loosely about his neck.
"Septimus Spratt," the man replied, shaking her hand firmly. "It's a pleasure." He turned to face the other ladies. "I presume you're all the wedding party, yes?"
"Not me," Anna replied for them all. "I'm just here for moral support."
"Nor I," Beryl added. "Caterer. Beryl Patmore, owner of The Cheeky Devil up in Misty Cove."
"Oh! I've heard fabulous things about that place!" Septimus raved. "Excellent!"
Everyone sort of stared at him for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to say. Only one thing was certain: Septimus Spratt was not what they expected to encounter at the dress shop this morning.
"Do you own this place, Mr. Spratt?" Beryl asked forwardly. Elsie cringed, closing her eyes briefly and sighing aloud.
But Septimus seemed unfazed by the question. "It's Septimus, please. And as it happens, I do not," he admitted. "It's my Mum's shop, but she moved two years ago and left me in charge." He looked around the place with pride and added in a conspiratorial stage whisper, "It used to be all pink. Can you possibly imagine? It was revolting! Had to change it all up to what it is now."
"Well, what it is now is lovely," Anna said. "And I've heard of you from a few friends who've shopped here. You do an incredible business! But surely you're not doing it all yourself?"
"Just me and Madge," he said, tilting his head toward the back room. "She's killer at alterations; I couldn't survive without her."
Becky and Daisy had moved over to the display in the window and were discussing it in hushed voices, pointing now and again to certain things on the dresses and then to other items across the room in the shop.
"What's all this?" Elsie asked gently, coming up between them and laying her hands on their shoulders. "Plotting away?"
Becky nodded seriously. "Daisy and I want to match," she said emphatically.
"You want to … match," Elsie repeated slowly.
"Yes," Daisy confirmed. "We know that we're supposed to have the same color, but Auntie Becky and I want the same dress."
"But yours will likely be one of those, Daisy," Elsie managed, indicating the girls' and younger ladies' dresses.
"No, Ellie. Please - we want to match," Becky insisted.
Elsie took a deep breath and turned to Septimus with a raised eyebrow and a plea in her eyes; he, however, was already smiling and nodding.
"We can make that happen," he assured her. "You said a simple, beachfront wedding, right? And no stark white. Champagne or a sand color for you, a darker color for these two lovely ladies? And the groom will be in a linen summer suit?"
"Precisely," Elsie confirmed.
"Well, then, why don't we start with what I've pulled out and go from there?" He indicated the rack of dresses with a flourish of his arm and a small bow in Elsie's direction, which made Anna giggle. Beryl hadn't noticed, though, because she was already elbow-deep in the garment bags, having taken it upon herself to unzip them and view their contents.
"Oh, Elsie," she breathed. "Look."
Septimus took the dress from Beryl's hands and hung it on a hook by the dressing room door.
"This was my first choice, actually, based upon the online questionnaire you submitted."
Anna turned from what she was looking at and gasped softly. "Elsie," she said, "go and try that on now."
But Elsie wasn't listening, really. She had moved over to the dress and was fingering the fabric of the one shoulder strap. It was soft and satiny, but not actually satin. She lifted the skirt a bit and was stunned at the weightlessness of the entire dress; it was perfect for a summertime wedding on the beach - it wasn't too heavy, and it was exactly what she'd hoped to find.
"May I try it on?" she asked, and Septimus took it from where it was hanging and brought it into the dressing room, leaving it on the hook there. He held the door open for her and she made her way in.
"Please do," he said, unnecessarily. "We'll be out here perusing through some other things. Do you require any assistance?"
"Beryl can help me," she said, pulling her friend into the spacious cubicle and sitting her on the settee that was inside. "Thank you."
She closed the door and turned to look at Beryl.
"This is exactly what I wanted."
"I know. Try it on, love."
"I like this one," Daisy was saying to Septimus, and he smiled at her.
"That one is lovely, my dear," he said kindly. "Tell me, Daisy, what are you looking forward to the most about the wedding?"
"Oh, that's easy," she whispered. "Elsie will be my new Mum then. My real Mum died last year, but I love Elsie so much."
"Well," Septimus said, quiet enough that only Daisy could hear, "sometimes it's hard to have someone take the place of a parent, but sometimes the perfect person comes along and it's almost like having them back. Almost."
"Almost," Daisy agreed with a nod.
"You know, my own Da died when I was about your age," Septimus confided. "Afterward, my Mum took up with someone new. It took me a while, but I ended up loving him like a second Da. I'm sure you'll have the same experience with Elsie. But if you have any worries, be sure you talk with your own father, hm?"
Daisy smiled at him, grateful for his understanding. "I will," she promised.
Septimus left her to keep browsing and made his way over to where Anna and Becky were. He struck up a conversation with them, pointing out things that Becky might consider trying on. They chatted a bit and Daisy joined them after a few minutes, but everyone whipped around at the sound of the dressing room door opening.
"Oh, Ellie!"
Becky rushed to her sister's side, mouth agape as she stared at Elsie, who was wearing the most gorgeous thing that Becky had ever seen.
The dress fit Elsie so well that she wasn't sure she'd even need it to be altered - not much, anyhow. Champagne in color, its rippled surface produced exactly the effect she'd expected when she'd first seen it: the appearance of loads of fabric that was, in fact, a total illusion. The dress had a form-fitting nature that accentuated Elsie's athletic frame, and the single, sleeveless strap - a couple of inches wide where it rested on her shoulder - left her other shoulder bare in a most elegant way. She'd thrown her hair in a simple ponytail for the day, having expected to be trying on an infinite number of things and not wanting to bother with it at all; she could see now that having it off of her face showed what the dress would look like when, in fact, her hair was styled for the wedding itself, with a few tendrils escaping and curling down toward her shoulders.
"What is it with you and dress karma?" Anna laughed. "You found the perfect one for Edith's wedding right away, too!"
Elsie nodded, flushing a bit as she imagined what Charles would think when he saw her in this one. She wasn't conceited by any stretch, but she knew she looked fabulous. "Yes, but this one is infinitely more important," she whispered.
"She'll take it," Beryl said firmly to Septimus. "No question."
He looked to Elsie for confirmation, and she agreed. He tugged on the fabric in a few spots, checking the fit, and shook his head in wide-eyed amazement.
"Madge will barely have to touch this," he marveled. "It's like it was made for you."
Elsie reached out and clasped his hand, smiling as she looked at him earnestly.
"Thank you," she gushed. "It's absolutely perfect."
She changed out of the dress and the ladies spent the next hour watching Daisy and Becky try things on ... to no avail.
"How about this?" Elsie suggested, holding up her favorite from the window display. "Oh, wait … perhaps not," she said, somewhat sad as she returned it to the rack, realizing that it would be appropriate for Daisy but certainly too juvenile for Becky.
"There's this one," Anna mused, selecting a dress and holding it up for consideration, but Daisy wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
"Oh, Elsie, how about this?" Beryl said after another ten minutes.
Everyone turned to where she was standing - by the clearance rack, as it so happened - and looked at the dress she'd pulled out. It was a dark rust color, a simple, sleeveless cut, with a sash that tied around the waist and a slightly flared skirt that would come to about Becky's knees.
"Yes!" Daisy shouted, and Becky smiled and nodded.
"I like it, Ellie," she said.
Elsie turned to Septimus. "What are the chances you have this in both their sizes?" she asked. "I mean, that looks as though it might fit Becky, but …"
The problem was clear: the dresses were adult-sized, but Daisy was not.
"Hm," Septimus mused, flicking through the rack and looking at things, muttering to himself as he went. "No … clearly not … not that one … Oh, wait a minute …" He took one from the middle and whisked it into the back room, leaving the women alone in the storefront.
"Do you think there really is a 'Madge' person in there?" Daisy wondered.
They all looked at each other and just shrugged; after five minutes, Septimus came back and beckoned to Daisy, who made her way over to where he stood.
"Here, here, and here," he said, taking the measuring tape from around his neck and measuring her small frame, writing the numbers down on a slip of paper. "Yes, yes … That may do …" He turned once again and went into the back room.
"What is he on about?" Beryl muttered.
"I suspect he has a plan for Daisy," Elsie answered, looking at her girl and smiling, "although what the plan is is anyone's guess."
Septimus returned once again, beaming. "We can do it," he confirmed, holding up a dress. "This dress, which is a petite, can be altered adequately for Daisy. The length will come lower on her than it will on Becky, but as we have Becky's size on the rack, we can make it happen."
"Well, Becky - let's try it on," Elsie said, taking the one that was Becky's size and heading into the dressing area with her.
As she zipped up the back of Becky's dress, Elsie had to take a deep, steadying breath. Her hands fluttered and she had to struggle to focus. She shook her head to clear it.
"Ellie? Are you alright?"
"Oh, I'm fine," Elsie whispered tearfully at Becky's back. "I was just remembering the last time I zipped you into a dress for my wedding. Do you remember, love?"
"I do," Becky said, a smile in her voice that only Elsie would hear. "It was such a pretty wedding, Ellie. The church was big and beautiful, and you looked like a princess."
Elsie laughed softly. "Well, I don't know about that, but it was a lovely day." She paused, and bit her lip, then backed up and sat abruptly on the padded bench behind her.
Becky joined her and clasped her hand. "You're sad, Ellie. About Joe?"
Elsie squeezed Becky's hand and slowly nodded. "Yes … and no. I'm sad because I remember how happy we were, and in the end …"
"It went bad," Becky said, staring at her lap. "My fault," she added in a whisper.
"Becky, no. Oh, love, is that what you think?" Elsie asked. "It wasn't your fault, sweetheart. It was never because of you. Joe was … complicated. He ended up having problems that he didn't have in the beginning. People change, and not always for the better. That's just the way life is. But Joe always made his own decisions; nothing that happened was because of you."
Becky licked her lips as she thought about that, and they sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke again.
"Ellie?"
"Yes, dear?"
"That means it wasn't your fault, either."
Elsie sat back against the wall, astonished by Becky's perceptiveness even though she was so familiar with it. "I suppose not," she admitted tearfully, wiping at her eyes with her fingertips.
Becky turned and wrapped her sister in an enormous hug. "Don't cry, Ellie," she whispered. "Charlie isn't like Joe."
"No," Elsie said, smiling through her tears, "he's certainly not."
Moments later, eyes dried and dress smoothed out, they emerged from the dressing room.
"And did you two solve all of the world's problems in there?" Beryl asked kindly.
Elsie smiled at her friend and wrapped her arm around Becky's waist. "Enough of them," she said with a soft smile. "Now, tell me … What do you ladies think?"
Daisy let out a soft "Ohh," and Anna and Beryl nodded.
"It's lovely," Anna whispered.
"Is it what you wanted?" Becky asked her sister.
"Is it what you wanted? That's more important to me," Elsie assured her.
"I love it."
Septimus came over and tugged on the dress, same as he'd done for Elsie.
"We'll let it out a bit here," he said quietly, and Becky nodded. "Are you happy with the length?"
"Yup."
"Alright, then."
Septimus called Elsie over to the counter and they discussed the details. They filled out order forms while the others plopped themselves on the cushioned benches in the dressing area and chatted quietly.
"He's not what I expected at all," Beryl admitted. "Very good listener, that one. You'd never know from looking at him, but he knows his stuff."
"I agree," Anna said, nodding.
"He is a good listener," Daisy chimed in, thinking about the words they'd exchanged about Elsie.
Elsie returned. "Everyone ready? The dresses will be ready next week and we'll come in for a final fitting."
"I'm ready," Becky said emphatically. "We need shoes now, right? And then flowers?"
Elsie reached out and took her hand. "Right you are, my dear," she praised. "Anna? You're driving."
"My pleasure," she giggled, ignoring the huff from Beryl. "I'll drive back to the farm, too, so no worries there if you want wine with dinner tonight, Beryl."
"Well, then, I suppose that's alright," Beryl said. "Thank you."
Elsie climbed into the car, ignoring for the second time that day the uncomfortable feeling she'd had in her stomach, a thing she'd started noticing last week during one of her more intense therapy appointments.
It's nothing, she told herself. You'll be fine.
"There you are, Tommy!" Charles found the boy inside the barn, petting Scarlett and feeding her a carrot from a bunch he had clutched in his hand. "I've been looking for you."
"Sorry," Tommy mumbled. "Just needed some quiet time in here."
"Hm," Charles muttered. "Well, I can certainly understand that. It's been rather a circus around this place the last week or two. Shall I come back later?"
"Nah, it's alright," Tommy said quietly.
Charles moved up next to the boy and held his hand out for one of the carrots, which Tommy readily passed over.
They spent a few moments in silence, and then Charles gently prodded, "Care to tell me what's on your mind, or would you rather not talk about it?"
Tommy hesitated. "I … I'm not sure how to explain it, really. It's stupid, I think."
"I doubt that very much," Charles said quietly. "You're very like Elsie, you know, but you're also like me - in this way, at least. You ponder things ... brood, almost. I'm sure whatever it is, you've gone through it a million times in your head, looked at it from every angle. But I respect your desire for privacy, if that is, indeed, what you wish for."
Charles had a feeling he knew what Tommy wanted to discuss; Elsie had prepared him a bit after the incident with Phillip at the school. She felt that Tommy was starting to question himself - his feelings, what he thought about them, and what sat at the root of his issue with Phillip. Charles had blustered a bit, feeling Tommy too young to be having those types of thoughts, but Elsie had insisted that he wasn't. So Charles stood there and mentally prepared himself for what he thought was coming - and he was so completely wrong that Tommy's first sentence stunned him completely.
"I'm afraid of the wedding," Tommy whispered.
"Wait … what?"
"I told you it was stupid," Tommy muttered, kicking the post next to Scarlett's stall door, startling her a bit.
"No, it's not. It's just not what I expected you to say," Charles replied.
Tommy looked up at him. "What were you expecting?"
"That," Charles said firmly, eyebrows raised, "is not a conversation for today, I don't think. Now, tell me what has you worried about the wedding. Is it doing the reading? Because I can ask -"
"No," Tommy interrupted, "it's not that. It's not the ceremony. It's the … after."
Charles cocked his head in confusion. "I'm not sure I know what you're getting at. What do you imagine will be different after the wedding?"
Tommy actually laughed at that. "Everything! How can you even ask me that?" He turned in a huff and walked out the door, stopping by the paddock fence and leaning up against it.
"Good thing that's off," Charles said sarcastically, following him.
"I shut it off earlier," Tommy said absentmindedly. "They're locked in their stalls for now."
Alright … Charles tried to imagine what was eating away at the boy, but he just couldn't.
"Look, if you want, why don't you just tell me what's bothering you, and we'll see if we can't do something about it."
Tommy was silent for such a long time that Charles didn't think he'd speak at all. They stood side-by-side, looking out over the fence to the trees beyond the paddock. A rabbit hopped out from the underbrush, sniffed the air, and hopped away.
"Overrun with those this year," Charles grumbled. "But Daisy loves them."
The breeze picked up, fluttering the long grasses and reminding Tommy that Elsie wanted him to mow the yard by the weekend. He sighed deeply.
"When you're married," he began, "you and Elsie and Daisy will be a proper family. Parents and a kid. And I'm … well, I'm not yours. I won't be part of that."
"But, Tommy, nothing is different just because we're getting married," Charles said, confused.
"Of course it is! It's totally different! It'll be … well, official, I suppose. And I'm just … here. The extra person who doesn't really belong. It seemed okay before, because you and Elsie aren't married yet and she's not really Daisy's Mum, either. But that's going to change. And what if you want more children? What if you decide you don't have room for me anymore? You'll have this new thing that you all share, and I'll just be …"
"Left out?" Charles supplied, and Tommy nodded, clamping his lips shut in his dismay. "But, Tommy, whatever makes you think that? Have we done anything to make you feel like we wouldn't want you after the wedding? Because if we have, then I'm truly sorry." Charles raked his hands through his hair, wishing he could figure out where the boy was coming from. "Nothing could be further from the truth."
"And if you have more children?" Tommy persisted. "What then? You could have a son of your own." He looked down at his fingers, which were clasped together over the edge of the fence. "You wouldn't want to be stuck with me then, would you?"
Charles smiled a bit, a ghost of a memory flitting through his brain.
"See, you think I'm being stupid," Tommy grumbled angrily.
"No, it's just that you reminded me of something Elsie said to me once. Look, Tommy," he said quietly, "our inviting you here wasn't a temporary arrangement. We didn't go into it thinking you could stay here until something better came along. We care about you, young man, and are happy to have you here as long as you want to be with us."
"Even if you and Elsie have more kids?"
Charles chuckled. "Even then, which isn't likely, for reasons I don't need to discuss with you."
Tommy nodded, not really wanting to keep his mind on that particular line of thinking anyhow.
"I have something I'd like to give you, Tommy," Charles said suddenly. "I was going to wait until the wedding, but this seems like a better time."
"Okay," Tommy said, his brow furrowed. "I was going to check on the ducklings. What if I meet you out back in a bit?"
"Of course," he said, knowing Tommy needed a moment to digest what they'd just discussed. "I'll grab us something for lunch, too, alright?"
"Yeah, that'd be great." Tommy said, finally cracking a smile. Charles nodded swiftly before heading into the house.
"Come on, Max," Charles called.
Max had been watching them from his spot on the lawn, and he followed Charles into the house.
"How about a snack, hm? Just don't tell your Mum."
Charles put together two sandwiches and plated them with the remainder of some fruit salad they had in the fridge. Max sat obediently by his side, waiting until Charles finished what he was doing. Eventually Charles turned around, a slice of cheese in his hands.
"Here we are, boy," Charles murmured, tearing off little bits for Max. "Our little secret."
"And mine, now," Tommy laughed from the doorway.
Charles whipped around, caught red-handed, and Max took the opportunity to steal the second half of the slice, swallowing it whole and making Tommy and Charles laugh.
"Don't worry, I won't tell Elsie anything," Tommy said, "because she'd kill you. I just came in to see if you needed help carrying stuff out."
"Thank you, and yes, I'd like that," Charles said, handing Tommy the plates. "I just need to retrieve the item I mentioned, and I'll meet you outside with some drinks, too."
"Sounds good," said Tommy, already halfway out the door.
Charles went into the bedroom and opened one of his bureau drawers, withdrawing a wrapped package before closing the drawer and passing back through the kitchen for two glasses of water. Thus armed, he made his way out to the patio table where, he was pleased to see, Tommy had placed their dishes and waited for Charles to appear before beginning to eat.
"Thank you, Tommy," he said, taking his seat and handing the boy one of the drinks.
"Thank you. This looks great," Tommy said, digging in.
They ate in silence for a while, gazing out over the pond at the ducks - Mum and four ducklings, swimming about. There was a gentle breeze blowing through the trees; it was warm out, but pleasantly so, and the shade on the patio was perfect. Tommy couldn't remember many times in his life when he'd felt at peace, but the ones he could put a finger on had almost exclusively happened at the L'il Farm.
"Here," Charles said when they'd finished eating.
The boy took the package from Charles's outstretched hands. He squeezed it a bit and immediately identified what it contained … sort of.
"Charles …" he began, but Charles just shook his head.
"Open it, and I'll explain," he said with a meaningful look, and Tommy obeyed.
Inside the paper was, as expected, a picture frame. Tommy had assumed it was the picture of him and Laura that he kept in his room; the frame had broken last week and Elsie had said they'd replace it.
But the photo inside wasn't that one at all. It was a picture from the last week of school when Tommy, Daisy, Elsie, and Charles had been at the school play. The event had been a rousing success, raising funds for the special education program at the school. A professional photographer had been hired for the event, and he'd taken pictures of all the kids and their families.
The photographer had joked about how Tommy and Daisy had made it easier on him by having the same parents - one picture, not two - and Tommy remembered laughing before stopping suddenly and being overcome with a sense of … well, he couldn't identify it, really. Worry, he remembered thinking. Nothing more had been said, for they'd been rushed ahead to make room for the next group photo.
The edges of the frame were quite wide, probably two inches or so across; it was wooden, painted a deep blue. Tommy fingered the bottom of the frame, on which Charles had affixed a long metal tag. He squinted to read it, his brow furrowed, and as he took in the words his face flushed with emotion.
When I speak of home, I speak of the place where - in default of a better - those I love are gathered together; and if that place were a gypsy's tent, or a barn, I should call it by the same good name notwithstanding.
"It's Dickens, of course," Charles said softly. "Nicholas Nickleby. It's about a boy who struggles to care for his mother and sister amidst a variety of challenges and abuse; however, in spite of it all, he finds happiness in the end."
Tommy squeezed his eyes shut as he took it all in.
"I was going to give this to you after the wedding, as I said before," Charles explained. "I thought it was too soon after your losing your Mum to do so now. But, after our conversation today, I changed my mind."
He took the wrapping paper from the center of the table and folded it mindlessly in his large hands; four times into a strip, then once at the center, and then triangles from that point to the ends. He chose to look at that instead of at Tommy, so as not to make either of them uncomfortable.
"We care about you, Tommy. We love you, and you're already a part of this family. Perhaps it seems temporary or unofficial to you, but it doesn't have to be."
"You mean … Wait, you'd actually consider adopting me one day?" Tommy asked, disbelieving what he was hearing. "You're lying."
Charles continued to look at the paper in his hands but raised his eyebrows, and Tommy remembered instantly.
"No," he amended, "you can't be. You promised."
"That I did," Charles replied. He looked up at Tommy. "You see, Tommy, no matter what might ever happen in the future, Elsie and I are in this for the long haul … if you want us. You are Mary's nephew, remember. So we're stuck with you, as you put it, regardless of whether or not you live here, because we'll all be family no matter what."
"When?" Tommy asked suddenly.
"Sorry?"
"If you did adopt me, when would it be?" He said it almost as a challenge; he trusted Charles, but was having trouble believing the truth nevertheless.
"Based on the conversations Elsie and I have had about it," Charles said, meeting the challenge, "we could start the process as soon as you made up your mind."
"'Conversations?' How many, exactly?"
Charles laughed. "Several," he confirmed. "The first of which was right around when you moved in."
"Oh," Tommy answered, taken aback. "Well, that's new."
"What is?"
Tommy looked him directly in the eyes.
"The idea of having a … a father who … wants me," he whispered.
Charles sat back and tossed the paper he'd been playing with onto his now-empty plate.
"My childhood was much like yours in many ways, Tommy," he said, tenting his fingers over his stomach.
"I doubt it," Tommy said snidely, but Charles chose to ignore his tone.
"Not financially, I'll give you that. And my own father wasn't physically abusive. But he was rarely home, didn't care much about me or my mother, and spent a lot of time with other women.
"My mother chose to deal with all of that by drinking it away," he continued quietly. "I'd often come down from my room and find her passed out. I'd have to clean her up, sometimes help her to bed. She wasn't always … kind … when I'd find her, but I'd try to help her regardless."
Tommy nodded slowly, staring back at the ducks now, watching the mother duck carefully lead her ducklings through the water and then up onto the beach to rest, recognizing that at least his Mum had loved him very much, appreciating his efforts instead of criticizing them.
"Once I was older, I started at University," Charles continued. "I met your Aunt Mary's father, and the Crawleys sort of took me in as an unofficial member. For decades now, they've been the only family I've known except for Daisy and her mother … until I met Elsie, anyhow. And you.
"I tell you this not so that you'll feel sorry for me, and not with any sense of competition about who had it worse, because that would undoubtedly be you."
"And Elsie," Tommy whispered, which Charles acknowledged with a raised eyebrow, wondering not for the first time just what the boy knew about Elsie's past.
"Just so," he said. "But I think it's important for you to understand that I see where you're coming from, too. I know what it's like to have a new family come along and take you in, for you to feel the need to question how real that could possibly be, and what a struggle it can be to trust their intentions."
"But it all worked out okay for you," Tommy said. "Of course, you were an adult then anyhow, weren't you?"
"I was. But it could work out for you, too. Here or elsewhere, if that was your preference. But we have no desire for you to leave … that is, not if you want to stay."
Tommy looked back at him one final time. "And you promise?" he whispered. "If I decide I want to stay - forever - then that can happen?"
Charles smiled and nodded once more, hoping that he'd once and for all eliminated Tommy's insecurity and fear about being loved.
"I promise."
"Hm."
"It's not been long, Tommy. You don't have to make any decisions now."
"I know. But I love it here, with you and Elsie and Daisy. I feel like you're already my family."
"So do we," Charles replied.
"I'll think about it, if that's what you want. But I don't think I'll change my mind. I'd like to stay, if you'll have me. Permanently."
As Anna parked by the front path to Elsie's house, she yawned widely.
"None of us drank except for Beryl, and I'm still exhausted!" she complained.
"Maybe you're pregnant?" Beryl quipped from her place in the back seat, but she caught the look on Anna's face in the rear-view mirror and instantly regretted her words. "Oh, I'm sorry, love," she added quietly.
Anna shook her head. "Don't be. I wish you were right, but it's just not happening."
Elsie reached over and patted Anna's hand.
"You're young, Anna, and you've got time. Don't stress about it - that makes it worse. Trust me."
"I know."
They got out of the car and Anna headed to her own. "Tell Charles and Bill I said hello, alright? And Tommy, too!" she called, waving as she got in.
Elsie sent Daisy into the house and turned to Beryl.
"Spill it, Beryl. You've been silent since we dropped off Becky."
"I wish you'd tell me what's the matter," Beryl said.
"Who says anything's the matter?"
Beryl raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Elsie rolled her eyes. "It's nothing, I'm sure."
"I'm not sure." She pursed her lips. "How long before you check?" she asked.
"Check what?" Elsie challenged. "I don't even know what you're talking about!"
"Elsie," Beryl said slowly, "you're exhausted. You've been exhausted for weeks, which I chalked up to the therapy sessions mixed with your having returned to work."
"It has been exhausting!" Elsie cried, and Beryl nodded, shushing her.
"I know," she said reassuringly. "But now you're not feeling well. You looked awful when I got here this morning - no color in your face at all - you ate nothing before lunch, and you barely finished your coffee. You almost passed out at the dress shop, and you cried four times today."
"It's the wedding," Elsie said. "It's bringing up a lot of emotions is all."
"I'm sure it is," Beryl said patiently, stopping by the bench in the front garden.
"Shit," Elsie whispered, moving over to the bench and plopping down, Beryl joining her after a moment. Elsie reached out and took Beryl's hand.
"How long ago was your last cycle, Els?"
Elsie shook her head. "I'm not sure, really. A few weeks? But it's been off for years, and worse since I fell. I asked Richard about it, actually."
"And what did he say?" Beryl pushed.
"He asked if we were doing anything to prevent a pregnancy," Elsie admitted.
"Which you're not," Beryl guessed, and Elsie nodded.
"Exactly. And he did reassure me that, should I ever become pregnant, my overall good health would be a benefit despite my age. But he also cautioned me that suffering a fall, and going through all the stress associated with it, will often produce a highly irregular cycle, and he told me I shouldn't get my hopes up.
"But these symptoms you've mentioned as your so-called evidence could simply be menopause, too, Beryl."
But Beryl shook her head. "Not all of them, Elsie. I've already gone through that, remember? It doesn't make you ill in the morning, that's for sure. Instead of not eating, you'd be more likely to eat more, and most assuredly you'd have started to put on weight. You're the nurse, Elsie. Why do I even have to tell you this?"
Elsie sniffed, and Beryl realized she was crying - again.
"Elsie? Do you and Charlie want this? I mean … well, I suppose I always assumed you did."
"We'd welcome a wee bairn so very, very much," Elsie breathed, her accent thickening with her emotion and fatigue. "But we've tried so hard not to get our hopes up. And we have this wedding now, and our honeymoon. My God, Beryl, what if you're right?"
"If I'm right, then three of you go on that trip instead of two," Beryl said simply. She wrapped her arm around Elsie. "And you have a relaxing, marvelous, wonderful time."
"It's only been a few of days that I've not felt well," Elsie admitted. "It could easily still be nerves."
"Perhaps," Beryl acknowledged. "Give it a week, and if you're still ill, come by the restaurant after work one day. I'll get you a kit, and we can do it there if you want."
"No. If I do this, Charles sits right beside me, watching me pee and all," Elsie laughed. "He would kill me if I did that without him. And given how long ago my last cycle was, I could probably take an accurate test now if I wanted."
"Fair enough," Beryl said, standing and offering her hand to Elsie. "How's your back, by the way? Because that can feel worse, too."
"Yes, I remember. But it's been fine for about a month now. Richard says it's a good sign that things have almost returned to norm- Oh … Oh, my God, Beryl … How would I ever manage to carry a baby now? I mean, I'm fine today, but ..."
"Bedrest," she said simply. "Once the baby was big enough, that'd likely be the route you'd take." She hesitated, but Elsie pushed her.
"What?"
"Only," Beryl said, "well, when you were pregnant before, did it take a while for you to show?" She regretted the look of sadness she saw in Elsie's deep blue eyes, but it was blinked away almost immediately.
"Yes, actually. The doctor was astounded because my frame is so small, but he said some women are just that way."
"Well," Beryl reasoned, "that would help, at least in the beginning, I'd imagine. When I had my William, you could tell by month two that I was pregnant. You'll have more time to get used to it than I did, and that should help."
"If there's anything even happening," Elsie reminded her.
"Right. Now, come on. Your big Charlie Bear must be worried about you."
Elsie took Beryl's arm as they walked to the front door. "Thank you," Elsie whispered, leaning her head sideways onto Beryl's and then kissing her temple.
"Don't you mention it," Beryl smiled, squeezing Elsie's hand in her arm. "But talk to him - tonight, alright?"
"I will. I promise."
Elsie was in the sunroom, waiting for Charles to come down after his shower. Her hair was still wet from her own, and she'd combed it and let it hang loosely so that it would dry faster. It was mild out and she'd opened the windows, allowing a nice breeze to cool the room.
She pulled her robe more tightly around her and walked over to the corner, reaching out to pat Max on the head. He was curled up in the chair - his chair, the one no one else ever sat in. He'd climbed into it so many times immediately after running through the pond that Elsie had long-ago begun counseling people to avoid it completely.
Max whined a bit and stretched, then yawned very widely and turned in a circle, plopping down once again and licking Elsie's hand. She scratched him behind the ears.
"What will you think of all of this, hm? It'll certainly give you a new focus, won't it?"
She heard Charles's footsteps and turned to face him, her smile faltering as she saw the glasses in his hand.
"Here," he said, offering her a glass, but she put up her hand and shook her head.
"I don't think I should," she whispered.
"Come on," he protested. "The kids are in bed now." He tilted his head in her direction and placed a glass in her hand and she was forced to grasp it. He raised his own glass toward her. "Let's toast your successful day!"
She touched her glass to his halfheartedly and pretended to sip her wine, but then she placed the glass on the table and sat down, beckoning him to sit by her side.
"Charles -" she began.
"Elsie -" he said at the same time, and they both laughed.
"You first," she insisted.
He sat back and relayed his discussion with Tommy, draining his glass in between his descriptions of how he'd found the young man in the barn, how they'd spoken, how they'd shared lunch together, and how he'd given Tommy the photo he and Elsie had gotten framed as a gift for the wedding.
"He wants us to adopt him? Officially?" She couldn't believe her ears; what were the chances? The timing couldn't have been worse if they'd planned it, not with the bombshell she was about to drop.
"He does," Charles confirmed, beaming. "It took some convincing on my part that we actually discussed it, and that we'd welcome him. The poor lad still finds it hard to believe we really want him …"
"Of course we do," Elsie said quickly, her eyes filling with tears which she smiled through.
Charles reached out and wiped them, trying with all his might to ignore how her robe had opened slightly, affording him a glimpse of the curve of her breast.
"When?" she asked. "I mean, when should we start all of that - assuming he doesn't change his mind. Could we wait until after the wedding?"
"I did some research into that, actually," Charles said, setting his glass beside hers. He indicated her glass, but she shook her head.
"And?"
"Well," he said slowly, "it appears that November is National Adoption Month, and there's a day when loads of families travel to the state capital for adoptions at some enormous ceremony."
"Yes," Elsie replied. "I've heard of that. It's a great opportunity for so many children."
"Precisely," he said, smiling and waiting for her to catch on.
Elsie's eyes flew open. "Wait … What? Charlie, we'd never have it all ready by then! Adoption paperwork takes months to process - up to a year sometimes!"
"I may have called Phyllis while you were out," he admitted, rubbing his hand around the back of his neck. "She said that when there are recent home visits on file and everyone's paperwork is up-to-date, they will often rush applications through to have as many families as possible able to participate in November."
Elsie flopped back against the cushions, digesting everything he was saying. She sat open-mouthed, moving her lips occasionally as if to speak but then deciding against it.
Charles looked at her with a sense of confusion, suddenly very afraid that he'd overstepped once again. But, no … they'd talked about this. Repeatedly. He knew they were on the same page regarding Tommy.
"Elsie?"
She looked at him, saw his lack of confidence, the worry pouring out of his eyes that he'd made some grave error in judgement.
"Oh, Charlie, it's alright," she said, soothing him with her voice as her hand reached out for his and grasped it tightly.
"I hope we've not shocked you, Tommy and I, having discussed this between us," he said, the worry still evident in his voice if not in his eyes. "But I felt it was better to have it all out in the open once he raised the matter today. He was feeling … well, a bit lost, I think."
"I agree - much better. No, that's not what concerns me," she hedged.
"Elsie, love, what is it?" He reached his hand out and pulled her lip out from under her teeth. "Tell me," he implored, and she nodded.
"Our family is getting bigger," she whispered, and a grin broke out on his face.
"It's amazing. I never thought I'd be gaining a wife and a son this year," he marveled.
"Charlie, that's not what I meant. Not … entirely."
"I'm not following," he said after a few seconds.
"I wouldn't have brought this up at all tonight, but I didn't see how I could keep it from you for another week or two."
"Elsie, what in the world are you talking about?"
And then, all of a sudden, it hit him: her fatigue, the struggle she'd been having with her therapy recently despite a stellar start, her emotions being all over the place, which he realized now he'd incorrectly attributed to the stress of the upcoming wedding.
"Oh, my God," he breathed, his face slack-jawed as he simply stared at her for a moment.
Elsie just licked her lips and nodded slowly, her own eyes wide, full of wonder and love and tinged with a bit of fear.
It was the fear he saw that snapped Charles back to reality, and he grasped her face in his hands and plunged his lips down upon hers, taking her breath away as he kissed her deeply.
"I can't be sure," she said after she'd broken away from him, "and it might be too early to tell. I'm scared, Charles. I'm so frightened."
"I know," he said, drawing her into his arms. "But we'll deal with everything together."
Friday, July 10, 2015
10:15 a.m.
Elsie and Charles were standing by the bathroom sink, staring at the test stick that was resting on the counter, and waiting.
"Were you the first person at the pharmacy?" Elsie teased. "They open at nine."
"I thought it best to get there when no one else would be about."
"And to visit one two towns over where no one knows us," she said, nodding. "That was brilliant of you, I must say."
"Thank you."
They kept staring at the thing in silence, occasionally glancing at the clock.
"Three weeks," she said quietly.
"Three weeks," he agreed, leaning over and smiling into her hair as he kissed her head. "And then you are all mine for the honeymoon."
Elsie laughed. "Is that all you're thinking about? Seven days alone in God knows where?"
"Yes," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.
The timer Elsie had set beeped, making them both jump. She reached out to pick up the test stick, her fingers shaking; she peeked in the little window, then promptly dropped the test into the sink.
Charles leaned in and picked it up, then turned to look at Elsie in wonder.
"Holy shit," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes once again.
"Holy shit," he agreed. "Elsie?"
"Mm-hm?"
He grasped her hands in his and kissed the backs of them, needing to hold onto her in case she fainted.
"We're going to need a new house."
She gulped, then nodded.
"We are," she laughed, biting down on her lip as she smiled, her tears freely falling now. "We are."
Let me remind you, you are so close, you've come so far.
There's enough love in my heart
to give you a place to heal,
to hold you, so you feel that there's enough love in this world.
A/N:
All I can say in my defense is that this has been planned in my own head for months … probably since around Chapter 32 or so. Can't wait to hear who's still with me. :)
As the lovely Danielle Shepherd would say, this can be considered a lead-in to the final "act" of my story.
(shameless plug) Another Brother Sun song for this chapter. I use them more than almost any other artist, and yet they're only well-known in American church coffeehouse settings. Do check them out - website is their name and a dot and then the com. The song is on Spotify.
Special shout-out to lemacd123 for her amazing advice on Tommy's story line and how that will be progressing. She's been like my secret weapon to get the legal stuff right, and I love her for it. And, as always, eternal gratitude and love for brenna-louise, who betas this fic and offered tireless support. And to my BIMP squad - love you!