Chapter 4.6 - Faithful Correspondent

Dear Willow,

I’ve never been very good at this letter-writing thing. I’ve never been great at anything that requires a lot of concentration (as you’ve probably figured out, remember how you always trounced me at Sim Fu?) But I’m going to try to be better at it, because I’ve only been gone for a week and I already miss you so much it feels like there’s something missing from me. If you’ve ever heard any of those strange stories about phantom limbs, you know how I feel when I’m away from you. Even when I’m seeing beautiful new things, things that take my breath away, all I can think is that I wish you were here with me. I can imagine your reactions so clearly. I do love what I’m doing, though. I don’t think we’ve ever talked about it really, but you know how I feel about the past. Searching for signs of werewolf presence at known anthropological research sites is a dream come true for me. The only thing missing is you. You’re the only one I really want to tell when I make a new discovery. I’ve found myself turning to you to see your reaction or ask your advice or just talk to you, but you’re not there. I can still smell your laundry detergent on my clothes, and sometimes if I close my eyes I can fool myself into thinking that I’m smelling you next to me. But I have to sign off now if I want to get this letter sent today, and we’ll be traveling again tomorrow. I’m enclosing the address where you’ll next be able to find me, so please write back soon. In case you couldn’t tell, I miss you.

Always yours,

Conor

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Dear Conor,

I think you’re a lot better at letter-writing than you give yourself credit for. I miss you, too, so much that it aches somewhere deep inside. You talk about phantom limbs? I feel like someone hollowed out one of my organs, and I can feel where it used to be. But I try not to focus too much on that feeling. If I spent every moment of my day missing you, I could never accomplish everything that needs to be done. I feel that pain every day, but I channel it into productivity. I don’t have any other choice. I’m relatively lucky that Flora’s such an easy child. She’s mature beyond her years, and I appreciate that, as much as I hate the events that led her to be that way. I wish you could have gotten to know her better while you were still here. She’s Felix’s daughter, but I’ve raised her every step of the way. She’s mine in every way that counts, and sometimes I feel like people don’t realize that. They all give me pitying looks and express their sympathy and say things like, “It must be so hard for you.” They don’t understand that yes, it’s hard, but as down as I sometimes get, I will always appreciate having Flora. I feel like maybe I might have given you the wrong impression about her while you were here. I’ve never once resented Flora. Resented her parents, yes. Resented the circumstances surrounding her, yes. But I could never be angry at or resentful of Flora. She’s the only good thing about this whole mess. As always, I wish you were here.

With love,

Willow

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Dear Willow,

I still miss you, but it’s a little more bearable now. I’ve been taking your advice and throwing myself into work, which is endlessly fascinating. I’ve found evidence, if only very faint evidence, of werewolf activity at about one in every three sites, which is far more than I was anticipating. It seems to imply some very interesting things about werewolf history - sorry, one of my colleagues found something she wanted me to take a look at. I won’t bore you with all the long details of my work, but it’s been really good for me. I still wish you could be here with me, but… I guess I’m beginning to resign myself to reality. I still think about you daily, I still treasure your letters, but… the smell of your detergent has faded from my clothes. They just smell like the soap they use at the laundromat now. I dreamed about you the other night. We were back in our clearing, and you were sparring with that tree the way you always would to try and show me what Sim Fu looked like, and I was laying on the shore of the pond and laughing at you the way I always would, but then you turned back to me and we weren’t kids anymore. You lay down next to me and whispered something in my ear, but when I woke up, I couldn’t remember what you said. I’m sorry this letter is a jumbled mess, but I told you I wasn’t any good at letter writing, and my head doesn’t seem quite right. I keep getting the feeling that there’s something wrong, but I can’t pin down what it is. No matter what, I love you.

Always yours,

Conor

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Dear Conor,

I miss you too, and hearing about your work doesn’t bore me. Even if it was something really dry, the way you explain it makes it interesting, and it isn’t really dry. I would love to hear about anything that has fascinating implications about werewolf culture. I still dream about the pond sometimes too. I went back there a few weeks ago, just to see if the magic was still there, but without you, it was just a lonely clearing in the woods. About there being something wrong… please come home as soon as you can. There’s something we need to talk about in person.

With love,

Willow

Author's Note: I still like writing epistolary style. I feel like it lets me explore... monologue, sort of? It's fun. Next time: not baby, actually, I managed to write more than one chapter of pregnancy this time. But lead-up to baby!

Chapter 4.5 - Arrivals and Departures

“Hey, um… Will?”

Willow turned around, almost hitting her head on the refrigerator door in the process.
“Felix! I feel like it’s been ages since I saw you! I’ve been wondering if you still lived here!”

Her smile faded when she saw the look on his face.

Felix rubbed the back of his neck. “Um… yeah. I need to talk to you about that.”

She nodded, feeling a slow trickle of unease. Felix hadn’t been himself since Marissa left,
but this… something was very wrong. “Ok, let’s sit down and talk it through-”

Felix didn’t move. “Is Flora home? She… she needs to hear this too.”

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So it came to be that when Flora got home from school that day, it was to find her two
favorite people sitting in the living room with serious looks on their faces.

She rushed into the room with her typical sunshiny exuberance, skidding to a halt just inside the door. “Dad! You’re never home this early, are you really here?”

She flew at her father, hugging him with all the strength a newly-fledged first grader could muster.

He smiled at her, but it quickly faded. “Yeah, I’m really here, Little Flower. There’s something we need to talk about.”

“What is it, Dad?” She was still smiling, and Felix felt like crying. He couldn’t do this if she was smiling at him. He looked at Willow, but she just stared back at him. Her eyes condemned him. This is what you get, they seemed to say, for being the most cowardly father imaginable.

He gathered himself for what he anticipated would be the most difficult speech of his life.
“Well, it’s good news, really. I found a job! Aren’t you proud of me?”

Flora nodded, and she really did look proud. His heart broke just a little more. “But… well,
you see… there’s a little bit of a catch.”

Flora’s eyes widened, and she suddenly looked a bit more wary. She was a smart girl, she knew those words were never good.

Felix internally braced himself. He didn’t think he’d be able to take it if she started crying.
Even when she’d been a baby, he’d felt so helpless whenever she cried. “I’ve been recruited
as a replacement back-up guitarist for Lithium Lexicon, you know them? They play on the
radio sometimes, they wrote that one song you like…”

Flora nodded. “It’s called Hurts So Slow.”

Felix wanted to laugh, but he thought he might start crying. “Anyway, it’s a really great opportunity, but… the thing is… they want me to go on tour with them. So I’ll be gone for a while, and… I’m really not sure when I’ll be back.”

At some point during this, Felix had looked away from Flora, and now he looked back.
“But I’ll still love you, no matter where I am. And we can talk on the phone, and text, and
video chat… but I just can’t stay here anymore.”

Flora was silent, her face full of an emotion so raw and complex that there was no way to
put words to it.

“You’ll be good while I’m gone, won’t you?” He held his breath, knowing that she would be
completely justified if she cried or screamed or told him she hated him. Plumbob, he hoped
she didn’t hate him.

But Flora didn’t do any of those things. Instead she hugged him, holding on to him with all her strength. “I’ll be good,” she whispered. And if his shoulder was a little damp when she pulled away, you would never know it to look at the girl who stood in front of him now.

“I’ll be the very best I can possibly be!”

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Willow was feeling down. Felix’s departure had been deeply upsetting, but she always felt the need to look at least calm, if not happy, for Flora’s sake. She was angry on Flora’s behalf and sad on her own and everything just seemed to be adding to her mood. Even the weather seemed bleaker than usual. So when the doorbell rang one day while Flora was at school, Willow was in dire need of some cheering up.

“Surprise!”

For a moment, Willow was frozen. She could hardly believe her own eyes. Then she snapped out of it. “Conor? Conor!”

As soon as he’d closed the door, she was hugging him, and then an impassioned hug
turned into a frenzied kiss, and then… well. It had been a long time since they'd last met.

At first, only the familiar had mattered. But now they began to look at each other and note
the differences from the people they had known. Conor was a bit taller, and Willow had
put on some muscle. Conor had cut his hair, and Willow had gotten bangs, and they were
both different people than they had been five years ago; but at the same time they were
still fundamentally the same. Willow still smelled the same, like fresh mint; and Conor’s
smile still tipped up just a little at one corner, in a way that made him look just a little
mischievous.

He gave her that smile now. “I’m really happy to be back.”

And something about those words and that smile and whatever magic power Conor had
always carried in his eyes made Willow break down. She began crying, sobbing with all
the burdens her heart had held alone since he had left. And he held her, and whispered
meaningless reassurances, and reminded her that she wasn’t completely alone in the
world. As long as he held her in his arms, the worries that usually weighed her down like
Atlas seemed feather-light.

“Shh… shh…” he murmured, rocking her gently. “You’ll be alright. You’re the strongest
person I’ve ever known, do you know that? Whatever’s upsetting you now, you’ll find
some way to overcome it. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

And everything came pouring out, interspersed with great shuddering breaths that were
still half-sobs. “They’re gone. Felix and Marissa, they’re both gone now, and they left
Flora, and I was so angry and I feel so guilty about it! Because obviously I was angry
because they were leaving Flora, and… who could do that to a child, Conor? Tell me,
who could look into their baby’s face and then leave them forever? Felix says he’s coming
back, but… I don’t really believe him, and when I think about it, I get so angry… but not
just because of Flora. Or rather, yes, because of Flora, but not on her behalf.”

She pulled out of Conor’s arms and stared out into space, silent for a minute. “I haven’t told this to anyone. People have probably guessed the rest of it, people probably feel the rest of it, because everyone can feel righteous anger on the behalf of an innocent child. But this… I’m not even sure I’d admitted this to myself until just now. I feel so incredibly… ashamed of it, ashamed that I could ever be this selfish, but… I love Flora so, so much, I can’t possibly imagine loving my own child more, but… she’s not my child. And when I decided to help Felix and Marissa with her, it was partly because I wanted to be selfless, because I’ve always believed in karma, believed that when an opportunity comes your way to make a difference in the world, even if it’s just for a few people, you should take it, because what you put out will come back at you. And now… I sacrificed so much for them, and they leave me with more burdens than anyone should have to carry. What happened to karma, to doing good things means good things will happen to you? I put my dreams on hold for their sake… and now it looks like that hold will be permanent.”

She turned back to look at Conor. “And even now, seeing you, being held by you, in some ways it just makes it worse, because it throws back in my face what I wanted so much and can’t have. I wanted to go away, to travel the world with you, to fill my life with love and adventure and a new family that would be stronger than the old. But instead… I’m stuck here.” She sighed. Then, surprisingly, she smiled. “At least I have Flora.”

Conor took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. “You have me too. I won’t lie to you, I came here to take you away with me. I had this idea that it would be like a fairy tale… I would sweep you off your feet and carry you off into the sunset.”

Willow giggled, even as she began to tear up again.

But Conor continued. “I guess life usually isn’t quite like a fairy tale. But as far from Prince Charming as I might be, I promise you can count on me to be there for you, even when I’m not really here. I still have a few more days left here before I go back, and even while I’m gone, remember - I love you.”

Author's Note: Sorry about the weird spacing, Blogger hates me apparently. Also, I just realized that Felix Doe has the same hairstyle, facial hair, and shirt, and remarkably similar coloring and facial features, as Felix Barker, who you might (or might not) remember as a petty thief who made a brief cameo in chapter 2.4. Any resemblance was entirely unintentional, but I thought it was funny. Next chapter, we're back to epistolary style! (It's already up, so you can go on ahead)

Chapter 4.4 - Anger

Willow was angry. That in itself wasn’t too unusual, but she hadn’t been this angry in years. Not since she started her Sim Fu training.

She was angry at Marissa for leaving her baby without a word.

She was angry at herself for not being there for Felix and Flora when it happened.

She was angry at Felix for not being able to cope.

But there was one person in the house she wasn’t angry with, and that was Flora.

Marissa was gone. Felix spent all of his time outside. He said he was job hunting, and maybe he was, but Willow was pretty sure that he mostly just wanted to avoid the house. 

So whenever Flora needed something, she went to Willow.

“Aunt Willow?”

“What is it, Flora?”

“Is Mom dead?”

“No! Where did you get that idea?”

“One of the boys at school asked me where my mom was today, so I said she was gone. When he asked when she was coming back, I said she wasn’t, because that’s what you told me, and then he said that meant she was dead, but I didn’t think so, so I decided to ask you.”

Willow took a moment to process the convoluted rambling. “Flora, your mom isn’t dead. She just left.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because all of the kids at school have moms. Some of them don’t live with them, but none of them left like mine.”

“Flora… I really, really don’t know. I wish I could explain it to you, but I can’t. I don’t understand it myself.”

“Did she not love us enough?”

“More questions are not going to make the answer different. She just… felt like she needed to be somewhere else, I suppose.”

Flora nodded, but her eyes were sad, and Willow abruptly began to hate Marissa. Could she not have thought about the consequences of her actions?

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The absolute worst of it, though, was at work. Midnight Hollow had an incredibly active rumor mill, and it had been working overtime since Marissa had left. This often meant that people at work, people she barely knew, felt like they had the right to pry into her personal life. Nowadays, an average day at work went something like this:

Willow got to work and started tutoring kids. About halfway through her second student, someone - maybe her student, maybe some other person at the center - would stop her to ask how she was doing.

“It can’t be easy, raising that baby on your own…”

“And she’s not even yours! You deserve a medal.”

“I’m sure she’s difficult, with parents like that…” 

“It must have been so hard on you when her mother walked out.”

“Tell me, how’s your brother doing? Has he resorted to begging yet?”

She hated it. Some of them were worse than others, but they all just wanted to get the juiciest gossip straight from the source. None of them cared about her wellbeing, or Felix’s, or even Flora’s.

Her temper was easily frayed at the best of times, but in these situations, it took everything she had to keep herself under control. She was always immensely relieved when it came time to move on to sparring.

Maybe she was a little harder on her opponents than usual. Maybe it was just the new techniques she had learned in China. But whatever the case, she was winning almost all of her matches, and it made her proud. At least there was one aspect of her life she could still control.

Author's Note: I said this generation was going to be much more picture-light. Somehow, I even seem to have neglected to get a CAS photo of child Flora. I'll try to have one for you with chapter 7, since the next 2 are already done. Flora is now a perfectionist. Next time: the most emotional drama this generation so far! (It's also already up, so click that next post button)