"Do you make a habit of taking in strays on Christmas Eve?" Melanie polished the last of her lasagna with gusto and frowned inside that she hadn't saved any of her roll to finish the red sauce taunting her from the edges of her plate.
She had indeed lied to Greg – with her friend Janet from the library in Kilarney with family for the holiday she'd resigned herself to a night of solo Chinese take-away and a podcast. But fate had stepped in and rescued her. She found it so often did, if she were open to it. And belief that she wasn't in control of every little thing that might happen to her kept Melanie smiling, even when the night was pitch black. Because you never really knew when a light would flip on.
"No. But I do hate to see a cute puppy wandering the streets at the holiday." The woman opposite her with very kind brown eyes gave a crooked grin and the light in Melanie's night shone all the clearer.
"Wandering the streets Jane? Hardly. I like to think that I walk with a purpose, even when it's not clear to anyone else."
"Sure, Melanie. But come on - you are in a world of your own here and there, as much as I can tell from what I've seen of you." Jane finished her own plate with a massive bite and barely got the sentence out around it.
Melanie shrugged. "Your powers of observation are sharp enough and that's an accurate deduction. I'd even say you could give me a run for the money. Fits though. After all, you are a detective."
Jane frowned and then smiled. "Thank you. I'm always reminding people of that fact. Don't know why it's always slipping their minds."
"Not much gets past me, so you're safe there." Melanie leaned in across the table toward Jane and scrawled with a finger on the red and white check wax table cloth. "Jane Hayden, philanthropist and detective."
Jane snorted out a laugh and Melanie joined her. It felt very, very good to laugh along with someone. Jane had become the bright spot of the time she'd spent in Harrogate Metro PD. She'd started as one of the detectives assigned to her case - who was quickly shuffled off the less and less the police discovered about Melanie's past. After that the two had struck up a friendship so easy and simple it seemed effortless.
"Jokes aside though, thank you Jane. These past months, the holidays. It was all getting a little – rough."
"Sure it was. I can imagine. Carrying around that little beauty -" Jane waved a hand at Melanie's face "- and getting the passive-aggressive brush from the love of your life. Not enough coin to rub together to drink your troubles away? Sounds like the plot of a bad romance novel."
Jane stood to clear the table and Melanie picked up her own plate. Jane waved her off and returned from the small adjacent kitchen with what remained in the wine bottle. It wasn't what Caroline poured, but it had been long enough from having any wine at all that Melanie enjoyed every sip.
Melanie smiled up as Jane stood over her to refill her glass. "That thought had crossed my mind. I suppose the ending's perfect then, the disgraced and scorned lover returning to her far-off, exotic home."
"So you've made up your mind to return to India when everything's sorted, legally?" Jane scowled. "I'll be sad to see you go. I think you and I could be great friends, Melanie. If you ever recovered your senses and swore off Manchester United for good. Harrogate AFC's all you need in this world."
"Football's a boring sport and so I've picked a boring team to back."
"It's Christmas Eve so I'll let that slip." Jane shook her finger at Melanie.
"But yes. God willing I'll be home this time next year. And you're kind of letting a lot of things slip when it comes to me, aren't you?" Melanie watched Jane and her lack of reaction to what she'd intended as a leading question. "Considering my background, you know." She was curious about how the other woman could possibly overlook the reason they'd met at all.
"I spend all day with people from all kinds of backgrounds. Where you came from, you know that's not always the best indication of who you are. Or where you might be going." Jane shrugged. "What I can tell right off are good people. And I think you're good people, Melanie."
"Keep telling me that Jane, and I'll start to believe you."
Jane gave a two-fingered salute. "Will-do. That's what friends are for." She raised her glass and Melanie met her across the table with her own, a lyrical clink sounding over the soft Christmas carols playing in the background.
"You – you've got – just hold on – " Gillian licked her thumb and reached over to swipe it across Caroline's cheek. "A little self-pity stuck there. Think I got it all."
"Oh fuck you Gillian." Caroline swatted at her hand. She supposed she deserved it. The pair sat in Caroline's living room in a post-Christmas Eve dinner haze, Robbie the bear upstairs reading to Flora and the elder Buttershaws retired to the carriage house long ago for a nap. Evening was just setting in and the burgeoning glow of the colorful holiday lights inside and out warmed the chilly conversation.
"Nah. I'm not the one here's fucked. That'd be you, by your own self, once again." Gillian offered a crooked grin as she grabbed her 'NO L' tea mug from the coffee table and plunked next to Caroline on the sofa. "Can't manage to see things from any perspective but your own."
The good-humored delivery softened the blow for Caroline but not by much. Caroline had turned moody with the retreat of the rest of the family and resumed her least favorite but currently most consistent past-time of picking at the tender vacancy her break-up with Melanie had left.
Gillian continued to pile on. "I mean, seriously, Caroline. What's your problem? Do you have to be such a bloody bitch absolutely all the time?"
"And what about any of what I've told you makes me the bitch? Seriously Gillian. You'll look for any way to make me wrong in a situation." Caroline bobbed her tea bag up and down and didn't feel like making eye contact.
Gillian tucked her feet up under her. "And you'll look for any way to make yourself right, won't you? But that's not gotten you very far, being right. What exactly is it that bugs you the most Caroline? I can think of a lot of things Mel did wrong. Plenty. But I get the sense what's bugging you isn't the wrongs. It's she surprised you."
"Trust isn't built on surprises, Gillian. And you know that's what I'd built with her - trust. That's what's needed to make a relationship work. There can't be lies between people, the way Mel put them between us."
Gillian ran a thumb over the rim of her mug and cast her gaze toward the stairs where occasionally they heard Robbie making grumbling bear noises for Flora. "Lots of ways to build trust, Caroline."
"There are plenty of ways to destroy it too, aren't there?" Caroline's eyebrows shot up. She refused to be lectured about truth and lies by Gillian.
"Phhht." Gillian stuck up two fingers and a nasty face. "This time fuck you. You brought all this up. Again." Gillian stood and walked into the kitchen. Her mug rapped sharply against the sink when she put it down.
"I'm sorry - I am. I didn't mean that – that way. I'm just lost here." Caroline studied the dredges of the red wine in her glass.
Gillian wandered back to the living room and stood over Caroline, hand on her hip that was cocked to one side. "Just when would have been the right time for Mel to tell you everything, Caroline? Telling something like that. There's no right way. No way you can figure that won't – that won't land things exactly the way they are between you and her right now."
"I suppose not."
"Nah. There's not. So why don't you skip that part of your judgement for a brief second?"
"Then what, Gillian? Skip it for what? So I can move on to her murdering her drug-dealing husband and fleeing the country?"
Gillian shook her head back and forth, fast. Now her tone wasn't quiet. The sleeve of her plaid flannel was up over her balled fist as she waved it back and forth. "She shoulda gotten a nice clean divorce then? Told him, 'yeah I know all your dirty secrets and I'm just gonna take half what we've got, move to another town.' Sure. Yah. Bet that would have gone over great. No way he'd just up and bump her off. Woulda turned out well for everyone, that strategy."
Caroline didn't have a response. Gillian sat back down and reached across the sofa with her sleeved hand. Caroline took it as Gillian spoke.
"You've made choices about trusting before, Caroline. Seems you and me, we've got something good, despite what all I've done. You made a choice about that, that's the way we've got where we are. Despite my many flaws. I've fucked up plenty good plenty of times, Caroline. And here we are."
Caroline squeezed Gillian's hand. She vacillated between affection and condescension. "But you and I - we're not married or shagging, are we?"
Gillian took her hand back and gave a dull chuckle. "Nah. Can't think of a bigger disaster than that'd be." She ran her hand under her chin. "Question's still there though. You going to keep repeating yourself like this?"
'That's not the real question, is it? How many times you'll keep doing this. The real question is why you're doing it, Caroline. The repetition of your martyrdom, partners who fail you or you find a reason to dismiss as unworthy. And isn't that just the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome.'
"Yes. No. I don't know."
"Mmmmm. Well. Get back to me when you do. And be sure to ring Mel up too. If she's still interested, that is." Gillian's eyebrows crept upward and her mouth formed a thin, skeptical line.
"Such a help you are Gillian. Really." Caroline finished her wine and reached to the low table for the bottle to refill the glass. She'd drunk most of it herself and wasn't sure if she should be proud or worried about that.
"I must be, because you keep turning up at my door step."
Caroline had been over to Halifax most weekends in December. She'd been unhappy in a house that echoed with Flora's laughter and often no one else but her to hear it. "I suppose I do." She rested her chin in her hand. "I don't know if I'm better off for whining at you for days on end. But you are right about sorting my shit."
"Big sisters are most always right."
"Oh not that again."
Caroline huffed and stood. It was past time to clear the pots and pans and plates glaring at her from the table and the kitchen.
Gillian trailed behind her collecting discarded glasses and remnants of pie. "Tell me when you've sorted yourself, yah? I've a bet with Robbie on how long it'll take you to get back on the horse, so to speak."
"Oh you really are beyond belief." Caroline ripped the kitchen towel from her shoulder and snapped it at Gillian, landing a cracking blow on her hip.
Gillian's mouth dropped and she protested with a high-pitched "oy!"
"Mum always told me it had to be all the time I spent in the girls' locker rooms after field hockey that accounts for 'the way I turned out.'" Caroline stuck her tongue out and Gillian did the same right back.
"You tell Celia from me she's right on that."
"Of course I am. Tell me I'm right about what then?" Celia shook herself and plucked at her head reshaping her hair as she wandered in from the carriage house.
"You and Alan sleep off all that lamb already?" Caroline called to her mum over her shoulder as she scrubbed at the roasting pan.
"He's still down for the count. Just caught a wink myself." Celia reached into the cupboard and pulled down a box of chamomile tea.
Caroline grabbed the teapot and filled it. The kitchen was quiet and still, minus the snap, hiss and swish as Caroline lit the burner.
"What's so scandalous, that I've managed to bring such a sudden halt to the conversation? Some fresh new outrage I'm embroiled in and no one's been nice enough to tell me?"
"Oh mum." Caroline blew up through her bangs as she returned to the brillo and the roasting pan.
"Nothing fresh Celia. Just rehashing our Caroline's recent heart break."
"Hmph." Celia pulled the kettle as it whistled and filled her 'Fleece Navidad' mug, which sported a fluffy sheep wearing a Santa cap. "No one to blame on that front but yourself, love."
Caroline dropped the pan with a clang and whirled to face her mother at the other end of the counter top loaded with dishes. She couldn't help the ear-splitting pitch of her tone as she responded. Could her mother find it in her heart to be kind at least on Christmas Eve?
"Now that's a change of tune. And thank you very much, by the way." Only last month Celia had been on at her at about what a horrible partner Mel had been in the first place.
Celia sipped her tea, winced, and blew across the surface. "It's only that I got to thinking. About how sensible you were when – everything – surfaced about Gary. You know. Alan's - indiscretion. You gave me proper advice and I've you to thank for how happy we've stayed. Even now."
"Excuse me?" Caroline looked to Gillian for support, who only shrugged her shoulders, offering nothing but a cautionary 'don't drag me into this' frown. "Proper advice?"
"You were so level-headed. Reminded me what a long time ago it had been, how we can't know everything about everyone's past. And mostly reminded me of the fact that he's a good man who happened to make a mistake. Imagine if I'd lost Alan over a mistake he'd made decades ago." Celia shook her head and took a sip of tea.
Caroline leaned back against the sink with her jaw on the floor and tears building in her eyes. "Now, mum. Now you come out with this. Now you say I ought to have forgiven her?" Caroline paced up to Celia and then back to the sink. "Now. When it's all gone to shit and months have passed and I've just gotten my feet back under me."
"Well it's not my place to meddle, Caroline - spout my opinion off all of the time. We only talked about it that once at dinner. You got so cross. And you didn't ask after that, so I didn't bring it up."
"Since when do you not bring things up?"
"I don't stick my nose in. And there's no need to raise your voice. It's the holidays. Try to be civil, Caroline."
"Try to be civil?"
Celia shrugged over at Gillian. "Have I developed an echo?"
Gillian shrugged back and slunk over next to Caroline and resumed the work on the dinner dishes.
"Well this has just been a wonderful chat, mother. What a Christmas blessing your constant love and support has been."
"Now you're just being rude. And it's been a very pleasant night up until now. So if you'll excuse me I'm off to warmer climes to see what Mr. Buttershaw might be up to."
"Good. No need to check back." Caroline waved her off and turned next to Gillian at the sink with a final yell over her shoulder. "Happy Christmas to you too!"
Behind them the door to the garden clicked shut.
They worked in silence on the pile of leftovers and dirty plates. Midway Robbie snuck through the doorway from the stairs and gave a nod as Gillian waved him off into the living room. No doubt he'd heard the commotion.
The final pot tucked away, Caroline turned, worrying a dishtowel between her warm, reddened hands and sighed. "I can't wait until term starts." The return to work would be a blessed relief. Though she had enjoyed binge watching Dr. Who into the early morning hours after Flora went down. It reminded her of Kate. And falling asleep on the couch was far preferable to falling asleep in an empty bed.
"Speaking of school, how's that new Board Chair you're always moaning about. Made peace with her yet?" Gillian's eyes stayed on Caroline's as she responded.
"I haven't. She's still an absolute beast. But Beverley's set us up for lunch in the New Year and we're supposed to hash it all out." She had no idea what Eleanor Strathclyde had in mind to 'hash out' and why Beverley had conceded to her demands to be scheduled so soon after the holidays, but she wasn't looking forward to it in the least.
Gillian shrugged. "Beverley seems right about lots of things, whenever you mention her."
"Hmmm. Well. We'll see." Caroline tossed the dishtowel on the counter. "I'm off to kiss Flora and dream of sugar-plum fairies stealing mum away in the night."
"Robbie and me'll head back then." Gillian tilted her head toward the snoring bulk of her husband sprawled across Caroline's couch. One foot on the floor, one hand plastered to the wall and the other arm across his face. "Raff and Ellie and 'Lam will be home in the morning. Want to be there when they arrive."
"Oh of course you do. I can't wait to see William and Lawrence tomorrow." Caroline leaned forward and wrapped an arm around Gillian, who smiled with a chuff and hugged her back.
Gillian waved at her and went over to kick Robbie in the foot with a laugh and a smile.
Caroline shook down her hair and pulled her red cardigan tighter around her. She watched her step sister roust the sleeping giant on the sofa who grumbled and stomped as a giant should as he woke. Despite her own loneliness, she felt a happiness in her heart for the pair and the familiar ease of the scene.
A final hug for Gillian and a kiss on the cheek for Robbie sent them off into the dark.
She could have gone through New Year without Celia's ill-timed advice. But between her mother's poorly delivered care and Gillian's blunt observations, part of her stilled in understanding the role she'd played in the demise of her relationship with Melanie. A glimmer of hope flared that the personal failures she'd played out in repetition wouldn't be stuck on repeat. Even Celia had found true love after all. Perhaps one day she wouldn't be endlessly shoveling shit from the stables.
She closed her eyes and leaned back on the door, then walked through the house turning off lights. She left on the rainbows of holiday strands to glow overhead. She sat on the sofa and let the colors wash over her. The promise and hope of the season trickling through the cracks of her loneliness. With the occasional pop from the rafters, thump from the dishwasher, or tap from the branches of a tree on the window, her house settled and hummed and sighed around her.
Despite it all, despite the way it ended with Melanie, Caroline was glad to have had her in her life. When they'd met the weight of loss had been so heavy, omnipresent and clinging to her like a film. Dull and clouding everything she saw. Along with the nagging fear that Kate had been her one shot at a second chance. No matter how it ended, Melanie had scrubbed away that fear. Caroline was fresher, clearer, and brighter for basking even for a while in the optimism that defined Melanie.
Change happened. Pain happened. And then you moved on. It was time for Caroline to keep moving on.
She opened her eyes wide and stared up toward the stairs and pictured a sleeping Flora. There was still plenty of love to go around on Christmas Eve at Conway Drive. It was past time to start enjoying it again.
The End
RSC A/N:
Thank you to Nola for riding shot gun on the journey, reading the map, providing the right words at the right time, ideas, insight and inspiration and helping me try my hand at something new. There's a first time for everything and I don't know that either of us had attempted a mystery-style piece, such as it is. Hats off to you, patient, intrepid co-pilot.
Thank you to everyone who took a minute to read the tale as well. It didn't start as an alternate timeline tie-in with the Imagined series, but what can I say. I think I'm a one true love kinda gal. If you're curious, this is not at all meant to dovetail in as a prequel. Rather it explores the notion that for Caroline, all roads lead to Eleanor.
Best of the festive season to everyone. I'm reminded so keenly in these days that each of us is indeed the origin of love. No matter its form, flaws, perfection or purpose.
"Let's push these stories aside
You know the origin is you -
From the air I breathe to the love I need
Only thing I know, you're the origin of love."