Author's Note: This is my submission for the Father's Day prompt. It isn't finished, and I feel like it could be a lot more, but I really enjoyed giving Ella a chance to speak. Also I'm struggling with a title, so feel free to make suggestions. Usually I really enjoy naming my stories, but I'm at a loss with this one.

edited 6/22/23

It had been years, years since she had faced him, years since he had so unceremoniously abandoned her. And now he was here, they were face to face and for the first time they were relative equals. He was no longer her much adored Uncle Rhett- the only father she'd ever known, and she was no longer a small child. She was nearly an adult now, the same age that her mother had been when she had married Wade's father. And he was an old man and a stranger. And yet he was still so familiar to her, in fact she didn't remember her life before he was her father.

For as young as she had been when he had left, she remembered him so well. She was certain that the years had faded and warped the image in her mind. The years had not been kind to him. And if she was being honest with herself, she knew that this might be the last time that she would see him. And if it was, she wanted to make peace with herself.

His hair had grown silver at the temples, feathering silvery strands between the ebony ones. And she was a little surprised that he had not used some hair dye to disguise his aging from the world. He always had been so careful with his appearance, bordering on vanity, except for those dark days right after Bonnie died. But those were such terrible times, that she did her best to avoid thinking about those days.

She glanced again at the telegram in her hands that was now slightly crumpled and smudged from the many times that she had handled it. He had sent the telegram several days before to inform her mother of his arrival, but she had been the one to intercept it. And she hadn't told mother that Uncle Rhett was coming. Mother had settled down some from the feisty vixen that she once was, or had been according to Aunt Sue and even a few of the stories from Wade, but Ella had no desire to stir up her mother's wrath, even if she was not as likely to lash out as she had once been. Ella could barely recall her mother as being anything like those descriptions that Aunt Sue had seemed to gleefully relay to her. Things had been so peaceful for the last several years. The first few months after Rhett left and Aunt Melly had died hadn't been easy, but mother had never wavered. Ella never had let her mother know that she could hear her sobbing at night. Mother was only strong and stoic when they were near. And yet the years had robbed mother of her softness and her vitality. Sometimes Ella was reminded of the stories of ghosts, for sometimes mother was very much a ghost.

She again peered at the door, worrying her lip as she waited anxiously for her mother to arrive home. It was nearly supper time, and mother would not be pleased to see Uncle Rhett, not after this long, though she once had wished for nothing more than his return.

"Ella, what is wrong?" Rhett questioned.

"Oh, it is nothing, Uncle Rhett. I'm just worried that mother is running late." She replied softly, as she turned her sparkling green eyes towards him. There was no use in lying to him, after all Uncle Rhett was incredibly adept at ferreting out even the slightest lack of truthfulness.

His gaze pierced through her fidgeting, and he watched her for a moment before asking her, "Ella, does your mother know that I am here?" He cut to the heart of the matter, something he had always been skilled at doing.

Ella ducked her head, trying to think of anything she could say to avoid admitting that she had seized the telegram she was so desperately clutching, and that her mother was completely unaware. "Ummm, well…" and then she realized that she had two options. She could admit what she had done, as Uncle Rhett had always been able to smell a lie a mile away, or she could distract him. Lying to him was absolutely out of the question.

So she mustered all of her courage, took a deep breath, and finally uttered a question that had been plaguing her for a decade. "Uncle Rhett, why did you abandon me?"

The silence in the room was deafening as she waited for him to answer her. Yet, he did not respond, the air growing thick and heavy with the weight of that single unanswered question. They stared at each other, both mired in the past. Until Ella could no longer take the anticipation, finally breaking the silence again and continuing. "You're the only father I've ever known, and then you just left. I was just a little girl, and you just left me. Wade and I returned to Atlanta after mother left Marietta so suddenly. She left us behind with Prissy and her luggage, like we were nothing more than another piece of baggage. I was terrified. Wade tried his best to comfort me, but Mother was heartbroken and aloof. Aunt Melly was dead. Uncle Ashley was a wreck. Mammy was gone. My whole world crumbled. And you could have stayed. You could have kept things together, but you didn't, you wouldn't. Instead you abandoned us, all of us because you were too selfish to stay. I understand that you were hurting, but so was I. And I was the child. You were the adult. You were supposed to protect me. But you failed. You abandoned me!" Her voice had risen over the course of her speech, the anger and resentment of years finally exploding out, like a steam valve suddenly opened. Tears clouded her vision, but did not impede her long awaited implosion. And for a moment she was taken back to that day, just a little girl, completely lost in a sad, scary world.

Rhett's head jerked up, his eyes alive and snapping. But it wasn't anger that she saw, it was more than that. Maybe she'd actually gotten through to him. And then a weariness settled over him, like a death shroud, heavy and dark, masking his features. Any light that had shone in his eyes was suddenly darkened, like the cellar at Tara when the door had fallen shut on her. And she could see that he was remorseful. "Ella, I was wrong. I shouldn't have treated you like that."

"No, you shouldn't have." she exclaimed, still feeling every bit of the passion that was once such an integral and yet now almost completely absent part of her mother. "But I shouldn't have expected you to stay, since Wade and I weren't really your children."

The bitterness poured out of her, a bitterness that had only festered and grown through the years, as she had carefully packed it away. "Only Bonnie. Always Bonnie." And yet once she uttered her sister's name, in a voice almost cracking from the lack of use of the name, she fell silent. There was so much anger bubbling to the surface, anger that she didn't even realize that she felt. But once it was released, she felt deflated. She looked at Rhett in concern. She had brought up Bonnie, and when he left that had been the unwritten rule --Bonnie's name was forbidden.

But he didn't seem angry; he looked defeated. There was a faint glimmer in his eyes again, almost as though there were tears there. Which made no sense, because despite the years, he was still Uncle Rhett, and Uncle Rhett did not cry. And then he spoke, "Ella, I was wrong. I shouldn't have left you here. I should have taken you with me, but I was drowning. I don't have any more excuses than that."

Now the tears were flooding Ella's eyes. The hurts that had remained dormant since childhood were pushing to the surface. "But Uncle Rhett, I needed you." she sniffled.

But Rhett was saved from any response by the sound of the door slamming in the hallway. Scarlett had arrived. Ella was starting to rise from her seat to greet her mother, but Scarlett was already talking. "Ella, who is here, and where are you?" she called out.

"I'm in here mother." She responded automatically. And then she glanced at Rhett. He looked tense. They hadn't moved his bags from the entry hall, and it was a dead give away that something was awry.

The door opened and mother breezed into the living room. She smiled at Ella, "Darling, did you finish your school work?"

But then the moment came, the moment Ella and apparently Rhett had dreaded. Scarlett slowly turned her head finally realizing who it was that her daughter was talking to. "Rhett?" She breathed, the surprise evident on her face. And then the moment passed. "What are you doing here?" There was a snap in her tone that had been absent for the last decade.

"Scarlett," he purred.

And suddenly Ella felt like an interloper. She vaguely felt like nothing had changed between them, despite the time apart. She was once again a little girl caught between her parents. The years fell away, and she felt a rising desire to flee. She remembered vaguely how things had once been between the two of them. "I'll go check on dinner." And Ella fled from the room, without a single glance backwards.