A/N: Hello everyone! Hope you've had a great week. Sorry it's taken so long for this chapter. I had a wedding to attend out of town and have had company since then. I also got a little writer's block, but I think it's gone for now (which is why this chapter is on the slightly shorter side). Lots of Henry POV in this chapter.
Hope you enjoy!
August 15, 1988 | Henry
Sitting and listening to his mom berate him made him even angrier than it should have. He became angry listening to her, but then even angrier at himself for being angry in the first place—for acting like his father once more. When she had finally gone to the kitchen and started pillaging through it for food to cook for dinner, he'd looked down to see that his knuckles were white from clenching his fists so tightly this entire time.
He stands and slips away while Elaine is preoccupied, walking out the back door and standing in their tiny, sad yard for a moment. Mark had brought by some bags of soil to fill in some places in the back, and they were all stacked up next to a tree. His first thought was to go over there and punch those bags until he became winded and too exhausted to make one more punch at an object that couldn't fight back.
"Wonder what he thinks about?" Maureen asked Henry, standing at the window beside him.
Henry looked up at Maureen, wondering what she was talking about. Even though she was just a little older than him, she always spoke as though she were as old as their parents were. "What do you mean? He's just hitting the mattress." Henry asked innocently.
Maureen had her arms folded over her chest as she looked down at her kid brother, and Henry didn't realize that she was envious of him for being so oblivious, "Yeah." She whispered, "Let's get going—the school bus will leave without us if we don't hurry up."
Standing with his arms crossed just the way Maureen's were that day, he realizes now why she gave him that look. She had just wanted the innocence he had. He takes one last look at the bags of soil and turns to go back in the house, but he hears the door squeaking open. "Oh, hey." Henry says, a bit surprised to see her back so soon.
Elizabeth looks at him and swallows hard, "I know what I did wasn't exactly—"
"It was fine." Henry answers before she can finish the statement, glancing over his shoulder at the pile of soil once more, then turns back and looks down at his feet with his arms still crossed. "It was what I needed to hear."
"I didn't—"
"I needed it, Elizabeth." He says, looking up at her with teary eyes. "It's not fair to you that you took someone who—who thought he'd never turn into the monster of his father. My dad has his good traits, but he's not who I want to be." He explains, swallowing hard and looking back down, "You don't deserve someone like that, and if you give me a second chance, I'd—"
"A second chance?" Elizabeth asks, frowning deeper. "Henry, I'm with you." She says, taking his hand and squeezing it between both of hers, bringing it up to her lips and nuzzling it a little before pressing a kiss to his knuckle. She looks up into his eyes and stays silent for a moment, and he thinks briefly about kissing her, but it just doesn't feel right. Her eyes start welling up with tears anyway, and she takes a deep breath before speaking once more, "If you hurt me again—then…" her voice trails off and she looks down briefly, then looks back up with a tear streaming down her cheek, "If you hurt me, I won't stay with you." She states. "I told your mom I wasn't a pushover back when we first started dating, and I meant it. I love you, and I want to make you happy, but not—"
"You do make me happy," Henry breathes, "You make me happier than I've ever been, that's why I'm so—so frustrated that I would do that to you." He says, looking down at her arm and gently wrapping his hand below the bruise, lifting it up so he could get a better look. "This isn't who I ever wanted to be, especially not in your eyes."
The silence starts as just a little tickle, but the longer they stayed silent, the longer it felt like a warm embrace. She finally steps closer to him and lays her head on his chest, and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around her shoulders and give her a gentle squeeze. "You scared me." She whispers, "Ever since I saw you that day with Tori, I thought I was losing you. And then when she moved in—it got hectic, but it was okay. But then…when she…" she couldn't bring herself to say it, he could tell, and he was actually glad for it. He doesn't want to hear the reality again just yet. "And you just…you shut down…I was really afraid of losing you then. But then when you grabbed me like that…" She whispers, her body wracking momentarily as he holds her a little tighter, "Please don't ever do that to me again."
"I won't." He whispers, laying his cheek on the top of her head, "I won't."
August 16, 1988 | Elizabeth
The later alarm on Tuesdays and Thursdays feels so nice, but she knows tomorrow will be a rude awakening if she gets too used to it. Henry's mother had left pretty late last night, deciding she would stay in a hotel near the campus since the couch wasn't even big enough for anyone to sleep on. Elizabeth glances at the clock to be sure it was the right time, seeing that it says 7:00 before turning the alarm off. "Good morning," she hears behind her body, and she turns all the way over to see him awake and staring at her with a warm smile.
"Good morning," she whispers, "How long have you been awake?'
He laughs quietly and shuts his eyes, "Too long." He murmurs, "Couldn't sleep."
She makes a noise that kind of sounds like "oh," but more like an "mmph." Their hands are just barely touching, resting on their pillows as she stares down at their fingers basically tickling each other's with their feathery movements. Not knowing what to say to that, how exactly to feel about him not being able to sleep, she just stays quiet and decides to change the subject after a few moments. "Do you think your mom knows?"
"Knows what?" Henry asks.
She rolls her eyes a little and gives him a look, pursing her lips together, "That we're living together."
He shakes his head, "I don't think she does, but she was also way too mad at me to bring something different up yesterday. She might have cooled down enough about it today to bring it up if she suspects anything."
Elizabeth sighs and looks down at their fingers again, hooking her index finger around his ring finger and playing with it, "How are you?" She finally brings herself to ask, feeling too upset about the whole, entire situation before now.
And truly, didn't she have a right to be upset? She comes to visit her boyfriend at work and sees him talking to another woman on the sidewalk, then finds out they were together after he'd never mentioned another relationship prior to her, and then he absolutely falls apart upon her death. It was heartbreaking, and it's even worse to know that Julia will grow up without parents, but it didn't make Elizabeth's hurt any easier, exactly. Of course, the situation with how he treated her the other day didn't make things any better, but she wasn't even the most upset about that. She was just tired of how he had been acting.
"I'm alright." He says quietly, and she brings her eyes up to look at his face, seeing that he's looking right at her while he's speaking. Something he hasn't done in a while. "I didn't get the chance to tell you that I talked to Dr. Mitchell before I came home yesterday—and got chewed out by my mom."
She smiles a little, biting her lip, "Oops." She murmurs, but more playfully than anything. "What'd you two talk about?"
He sighs, "He wanted to talk to me about my Saint Augustine paper. I don't really know what he wanted to say other than that it must have taken a lot of self-reflection."
"Did it?" Elizabeth asks quietly.
He stays silent for a moment, still playing with her fingers as he thinks and looks into her eyes. "I wrote it with John in mind. I re-read it last night before I came to bed and I realized how self-righteous it sounded—I'm surprised Dr. Mitchell even gave me an A on it, honestly. It was all about treating people with respect, and I was tying some instances in to whenever I didn't want to treat John with respect, but I still did." He pauses, swallowing thick and clearing his throat, "When Dr. Mitchell was talking to me, all I could think about was that I didn't treat you with any respect. None at all, actually." He says, "And I'm really sorry for that."
She looks up at him again whenever he finally apologizes, trying to hide her shock that he actually said those words. Staring at him, she clears her throat and blinks, trying to gather herself, "Oh?" She prompts.
"Yeah." Henry replies, looking down once more between them. "And then when Mom started chewing me out—Elizabeth, all I wanted to do was break down. I'm not like that. That's not who I want to be, and especially not who I want to be to someone I genuinely love." He whispers, "You're worth so much more than that."
Her eyes drop back down when she feels the prickling behind them, trying to keep herself from crying. "Well, I won't lie to you, Henry, you made me feel pretty worthless." She admits, her voice cracking too much for it to even sound like her own. She closes her eyes and feels the tears escape like a splash, and she licks her suddenly very dry lips before opening her mouth to speak, "I shouldn't say this," she whispers, "But when John…when he tried to kiss me in the bedroom at Isabelle's at that party, there was a brief moment that I wondered if this is what I was. If I was just…a toy, something to be tricked into going places with people who have bad intentions. Isn't that the statistic I fall in? Being an orphan?" She pauses and swallows hard, "It was brief, but I wondered if that's what I was to you sometimes—if I wasn't just a toy."
"You're not—"
"Let me finish." She says, her voice finally coming to her as she looks him in the eyes, "And then when Tori came into the picture, tattered and broken from both John and Kevin, I was angry. I was angry that someone like John could hurt two women, and probably more than that, even, so deeply." She looks down again, "The difference between Tori and I is that I know my worth, Henry. I forgot it when you grabbed me, I let it slide when you told me what you were going to do with me in the bed, but don't be mistaken. I know my worth." She says, her tone serious and low, "I don't need you to tell me what I'm worth, unlike Tori—and I know," she interjects when he starts to say something, "I know I shouldn't speak of her like this. She's gone, and it's heartbreaking—really, it is. I hate that she didn't live her life like she'd wanted—didn't get to see Julia grow up or be a real parent to her. I hate it." She says, "Tori needed people—particularly men—to always tell her what she's worth. I appreciate you telling me that I'm worth more than someone who bruises me, but I need to see actions that prove that more than I need to hear it." She explains.
He's nodding, and she notices he has teary eyes before he wipes at them, "I understand." He says quietly, squeezing her hand gently and bringing it to his mouth, pressing his lips against her fingers. He leaves them there for a few moments, and she watches as he closes his eyes. His hand starts to shake a little, and she brings her other, free hand up to the side of his head, rubbing her fingers through his hair.
When he finally breaks and lets out a sob, she scoots her body closer to his and takes his hand, wrapping it over her body and snuggling into his. "Don't scare me like that again, Henry," she whispers, closing her eyes and pressing her ear up against his chest.
"I won't," he whimpers.
August 16, 1988 | Henry
He notices immediately that she had to stretch upwards to reach his cheek, standing on her toes to kiss the stubble on his skin that he needed to shave off. "I miss you." Elaine says, her hand resting on his shoulder while her other hand held onto the strap on her purse. "I know Maureen took things too far, but—"
"I'm sorry for not talking to you," Henry cuts her off, "She's the one I'm upset with, not you. Elizabeth told me you stuck up for her that morning." Henry says.
She nods, "I will always stick up for Elizabeth, Henry." She says quietly, looking up at him, "She's her own person, but she's too much like me for me to let someone like Maureen bully her, or someone like your father lose his temper on her." She might have been talking about Patrick, but she was implying Henry's temper was the real topic. He could tell that much by the way she was looking at him. "She's a special girl, Henry, and she just wants a family—I know you know that, but be careful with her heart."
"I know," Henry whispers, closing his eyes, "I know I really screwed up," he continues, shaking his head and opening his eyes to look at Elaine, "I really love her."
She smiles at him and brings her hand up to his cheek, reaching up to kiss his other cheek once more before nodding and patting his shoulder, "I know," she says, turning away from him and grabbing her suitcase to hand to him.
He takes it and heads to the door with it, "You know you're welcome to come here other times than just when I'm in trouble." He finally says as they walk to her car, "Just give me a warning to make sure I'm not throwing any giant keggers." He throws in, trying to hide his amusement.
Elaine turns and looks at him, raising her brow and smacking his chest playfully, "You better not be drinking, Henry James, you're too young."
"Yeah, yeah," he says, trying to push memories of parties out of his head.
"And you better not be doing anything funny with Elizabeth," she says as she opens her driver's door while Henry is putting her suitcase in the back, "Right?"
Henry swallows hard and peeks around the door at her, "Right." He says, giving her the best smile he can.
"You know I want more grandkids, just not yet." She says and sits, and Henry's heart falls into his stomach thinking she must know.
From trying to push keggers out of his memories, he's now trying to stop thinking about the way she looks in his arms, still a little dewy. Still a little breathless. And then his mind drifts away from that to the way she was so scared when she thought she might have been pregnant, and his heart drops once again—just for a different reason. "Got it." He says and leans down into her door, kissing her cheek, "I love you. Be careful."
"I love you, son." She says, "Be good."
He smiles at her, "I will."
When he can't see her on the street anymore, he goes inside and sits down on the bed with his religion textbook. He flips through some of the pages, halfway reading and halfway scanning pictures of sculptures and artifacts, then stops when he finds the section on Augustine, starting at the first page in the chapter and reading on.
"Mr. McCord, I'd like to speak with you in my office again today if you have a moment." Dr. Mitchell says as Henry was gathering his notebook and stuffing it into his backpack.
He looks up and nods at him, "Of course, Dr. Mitchell." He says, standing up and throwing his backpack over his shoulder before following Dr. Mitchell to his office in mostly silence. Henry swallows hard, trying to think of something to say, "I've been reading a lot of Augustine—well, I read a lot this morning." He says, "I even checked out some other books on Augustine and Aquinas."
Dr. Mitchell smiles as he opens his office door, letting Henry in first. When Henry sits, he speaks, "The cardinal virtues?" He asks Henry.
"Prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance." Henry answers, setting his backpack down on his feet.
"And what do we think about those?"
Henry shrugs and laughs quietly, "That I need more sound judgments, for one thing." He starts, then shakes his head and sighs, "I messed up with my girlfriend, but I think I also messed up by staying mad at my family for so long." He explains.
Dr. Mitchell sits in his desk chair and frowns, folding his hands together as his arms rest on the surface, "What happened with your family?" He asks calmly.
Henry shakes his head, "I really shouldn't get into it. You probably don't want to hear about all my problems."
He laughs and gives him a little smile, "I called you in here because I wanted an update on our conversation yesterday, Mr. McCord." He says, "You have a bright future ahead of you, and I would hate to see it turn dim just because you have no one to help you control your temper."
Henry looks down into his lap where his fingers were twiddling together, "Well, my mom came from Pittsburgh yesterday and ripped me a new one." He says, and Dr. Mitchell's eyes widen without Henry even noticing, "So that made me feel great. But she's looking out for me, I know she is." He sighs, "I just want this to be behind me."
"Did the fight with your family start all of this?"
Henry shakes his head, "Oh no, that was over Easter. I guess it wasn't really a fight, but just…we aren't talking." He explains awkwardly. "My sister and father were badmouthing Elizabeth—my girlfriend, as you know—and she caught them. When I finally got out of her what was wrong, she begged me to not make a big deal out of it. So I didn't, I just left." He says. "And I haven't talked to any of them with the exception of my mom since then."
"And do you want to talk to them?"
Henry looks up at Dr. Mitchell and frowns for a moment, shaking his head, "They're my family."
Dr. Mitchell leans over his desk a little, "But do you want to talk to them?"
"They're hard to handle." He admits, shifting in this big, comfy chair. "They—my dad and my sister—they have tempers, too. And they just say anything they can think of to get under your skin the most. They'll say things that hurt people just because they want to feel…"
As he's trying to find the word to use, Dr. Mitchell interjects. "Is that why you did what you did to Elizabeth?"
He whips his head up at his professor, his eyes wider than before as he stares at him. He swallows hard and never blinks for a few moments, then clears his throat, "To feel like I was a bigger person than her?" He asks.
"Indeed," he says, tilting his head slightly. "To feel like you weren't small."
Henry looks down again, "I've never thought of them as small." He admits, thinking back to all the times Patrick seemed so daunting while he was yelling at Elaine, or thinking back to when Maureen would threaten Henry with just a few words, but Henry knew better than to do whatever she said not to. He almost never stood up to her as a kid, and the few times he did, he wasn't any good at it, really. Maureen would always go tattle on him, and if it were Patrick she told, Henry would get in trouble. Elaine always knew better—knowing that Henry was probably just sticking up for himself.
Dr. Mitchell lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back in his chair and crossing his leg over the other, folding his arms over his chest, "In my experience, the smallest people are the ones who make the biggest noise." He says, "Aquinas' teaching on justice tells us that most anger stems from a lack of empathy and understanding of others. Sometimes we must pull back the layers of people to understand why they are acting the way they do. What makes them tick." He states, looking Henry in the eyes, "And that takes patience. It takes a good amount of grace." He explains, "And we don't always have that right away."
Henry nods, but is getting the feeling he's being examined. "Are you talking about my family or about me?" He finally asks sheepishly.
Dr. Mitchell smiles, "Well, more often than not, we are carbon copies of our families if we do not understand the bad parts of them."
Henry thinks on that for a moment, squinting as he tries to play back the words in his head and understand them. "So if we don't know them well enough," he starts, "We can become them? Is that what you're saying?"
Dr. Mitchell shrugs, "In a sense, yes." He says, "You have to be aware of who the people are who raised you, and if you want to be like them. That awareness also takes a great deal of self-awareness, though, and that is difficult at any age, but especially at your young age." He admits, "You're well on your way to figuring it out."
"Thank you," Henry answers, feeling like he'd just received some sort of compliment from the older man. He looks at Dr. Mitchell and thinks, wondering why he's taken him of all people in to talk to and help. "Elizabeth gets it." He says.
"Elizabeth gets…?" Dr. Mitchell's voice trails as he looks at Henry.
"Grace." He says, "She understands it. She's given me grace already, even after I didn't deserve it."
"Is her model of grace something you would like to give to your family?"
Henry couldn't answer because his throat was tight, but then he just couldn't answer. He couldn't decide whether he had it in him or not. Elizabeth is a better person than he is in many ways. Is he able to let go of that frustration he feels toward them?
When Henry doesn't answer, Dr. Mitchell simply nods, "You don't have to answer that, of course." He says, "But it's something to think on."
Henry nods, looking at the clock on the wall and knowing Elizabeth would be home soon with lunch waiting on him. Because, after all, she's a better person and will make his sandwiches for lunch whenever she makes her own. "Thank you, Dr. Mitchell. Truly." He says, standing up and reaching over the desk with one hand.
Dr. Mitchell extends his own when he stands, shaking Henry's, "Don't forget what I said, Mr. McCord. You have a bright future ahead of you, and it sounds like this Elizabeth is someone who you want to marry, if I have assumed correctly."
"You assumed correctly, Dr. Mitchell." Henry admits. "I'm crazy about her."
He nods and smiles, "Then be a person she can be proud of, and that you can be proud of, above all. Take the time to reflect." He instructs.
Henry nods and takes a deep breath, "Thank you again." He says before walking out the door.