Timothee was furiously marching down the familiar road. The chilly weather was creeping through his skin, making him curse internally at the fact that he didn't even get a jacket as he left. But he could not think of that. Not at the moment.
He was so, so mad. He was mad at his mother, who had too many secrets. Mad because she was keeping things from him, thinking that she was protecting him when she was actually just trying to cover them up, pretending they did not exist. Mad at his father, that had messed his mother up with his absence. Mad at himself. Most of all he was mad at himself. Because whatever she was hiding from him, he had no right to demand to know. He had no business to tell her the things he did. And he was disgusted at himself because the worst part was that he believed the things he had said. He did. And there were no excuses to that.
Soon enough he was crossing the familiar garden, going towards the clean, flower-decorated patio, with the white bench and the cute pots with flowers. Oh, he knew this house all the very well. He had spent hours and hours in this house when he was a little boy. It was his first house after all. He liked it. No, he loved it. He was living somewhere else now, though. He and his mother had moved out several years ago, when his mum got her Psychology degree, and they went to another house. One his mother had made him choose. And he liked that one too. But the one with the flowers and white pillars would always be his first home. It still held this special place in his heart, it was where he could escape when his anger was not letting him think clearly and he needed a place where he could hide from himself.
He walked up the four marble steps, and found himself in the white door, ringing the bell.
"One moment, please!" A woman's voice was heard from the inside, familiar to Timothee. Within some seconds the door was swung open and Timothee was met with one of his favorite persons in the whole world. Despite the anger that was boiling inside of him a smile grew to his lips, mirroring the one that the woman in front of him wore. With a quick move she pulled him into a tight hug, Timothee wrapping his arms around her. She was old. And Timothee knew she was not who she used to be sixteen years ago, but he could still feel her embrace just as safe and reassuring as it had been all those years before. She was getting older by every time Timothee saw her. But even though her appearance was changing her soul was still the same.
"Timothee! Oh my god! When did you come here?!" She exclaimed, holding him some meters away to inspect him. She hadn't seen him in a while, and he was so grown up by now. He looked more manly. His features were sharper than the last time she saw him, and he was much taller, but still scrawny.
"Hey, Calliope." Timothee breathed out with this great smile still decorating his features. He had missed her. A good deal he had. She was changed now. She was getting old. When he was a little boy he had never noticed that she was old. But now she looked old. But still beautiful. The flesh reflecting the beauty within it.
"Oh, how are you doing my beautiful boy? Oh I missed you so, so much. Come in!" She pulled him in, not giving Timothee any time to answer her question, the familiar warmth of the house overtaking him at once. It felt like home in there. It was his home after all. He had grew up there. He had memories there. A good deal of ones, too.
"I'm good actually, thank you." Timothee smiled as he helped himself to the living room, sitting down at the comfortable couch. Calliope, the old woman, went towards the kitchen, talking as she did, asking Timothee a million questions per second, as always.
"Oh, Timmy. You've grown so, so much. You are a man, Jesus! Do you still take your tea as always? Oh, and Jane? Where is my little girl? Isn't she with you?" Calliope was talking and talking, and Timothee knew that this was what she normally did. And he liked it but right now he just wanted to do the talking, for once in his life.
"Um... So yea. About that. I wanted to talk to you." Timothee said, the words naturally rolling on his tongue easily. Calliope turned around with furrowed eyebrows and looked at him, sensing something was wrong by the way the young boy was twisting his hands on his thighs. The look on her face pushed Timothee to continue with what he was about to say, and so he did. "We had a fight. Mum and I did."
"Oh..." The woman softly gasped coming around to sit opposite Timothee, forgetting about the tea and everything.
"Yea... And it was not nice. I said some things... I shouldn't have. But you know, Callie, mum hides so many things from me. She has too many secrets." Timothee explained, his face hooded by a frown. Calliope looked sympathetically at him. She knew exactly what he was saying. She knew Jane all too well, to know that she kept her secrets well-sealed by her son. She also knew, though, that if she was in her place she would too. It was only to protect Timothee. And she was right about it.
"I know, Timothee. I know. But you've got to respect that there is a reason behind it. Your mum is not telling you some stuff because she needs to protect you."
"Protect me from what exactly? The truth? Believe me, it hurts more when she lies to my face." Timothee replied, feeling his anger slowly building up inside of him again. Calliope did not say anything at that. She understood what he was saying. But she also knew things he did not. "Do you know my dad wanted to marry her and she told him she didn't want a life with him? Do you know that she did not want my dad to be with us because they both were very young when they had me and maybe they were not each other's 'meant to be'?"
"I know, Timothee... But she had a reason. You don't know everything, dear."
"Jesus... Of course, I don't! Because she never tells me anything. I just... You know, I have spent so many years blaming my dad that he was not with my mum and that my mum was so sad she was not with him, but after all it was not his fault. And she knew that. She knew that I thought it was my dad's fault. And she was continually justifying him, but never actually told me why she did that, if he hurt her all that much. If she loved him the way she says she did, then why didn't she marry him? Or at least continue be with him?"
"Look, Tim... I knew your mum and dad long before they had you, I knew them since they were kids. And believe me. Your mum loved him so, so much. And so did he. But there are things you don't know, for a reason, that change the whole story."
"Then tell me. Please, Calliope. I came here because I wanted to understand. I want to know the truth. Please. I am angry all the time because of it. And it's exhausting, Callie. I can't be angry all the time..."
"Timothee..."
"Please." Timothee pleaded, looking at her with expectant eyes. He cared for his mother, and wanted the best for her. And this whole story with his dad? It did not do good to any of them. It broke his mother's heart and it made him angry. And they couldn't continue like that.
Calliope measured his words inside her head, a battle going on in there. Sure, Timothee was right. And Jane was also right for not telling him. But Timothee was not a ten-year-old anymore, he was nearly a man. And a very mature one too. If she told him now, she would be changing everything. Everything Jane was hiding for sixteen long years. But it would do good.
"Jane and Charlie grew up together. They were inseparable. Since they were nine years old, you never saw one without the other." Calliope started talking and Timothee felt like he was imagining the whole thing. "Charlie was the golden boy, everyone knew that. He was kind, charming, smart, outgoing. A proper gentleman. There was not a person who disliked him. And Jane... Jane was a walking angel. She was witty, and clever, extremely beautiful. She never followed the rules, of course, she was something else. She was a free spirit, still is as you know. They became friends when they were nine, even though their families were acquaintances of each other before that. They spent every day together, from the time they would go to school together until late in the evening when they would both return to their houses. Their summers were something else of course. Every summer they went to Martha's Vineyard for vacation, spent every second of their days together. Charlie loved your mum since they were just two kids. She was his best friend, his partner in crime. But she was also something precious to him, something that he seek to protect and keep safe. He had this thing, Charlie did. He wanted to be your mother's protector. And he was good at it. Nothing bad ever came near her while they were together. Nothing could hurt her, as long as they were together. Jane loved Charlie too. She felt complete with him, like someone from her 'parent's world' could actually understand her for once. And she like that. She knew Charlie would never leave her, and it was true. Charlie was always there.
Growing up, and as they reached a certain age, they discovered that their love for each other was not just a platonic kind of love. Charlie discovered first. Jane was sure that Charlie was the only boy she could love, the only one who understood her one hundred per cent. Charlie asked her out when he was fifteen and Jane fourteen at Martha's Vineyard. And their summers after that one was even better than before. They were happy. Their relationship was only theirs, of course. Both of them wanting to protect it from everyone's watchful eyes. They had a movie-kind of romance. They were great for each other, even though they were just two kids.
The year Jane turned sixteen her and Charlie went to Martha's Vineyard alone for a good whole week, and had the time of their lives, despite not being summer. Jane was never the one to follow the rules but with Charlie, and with Charlie only, she felt like she might want to. Might want to have a future with him. This week was the best week they had ever had. And Jane wanted to stay there with him forever, she did not care for anything else. She was with Charlie, who she loved more than life itself, and who would do anything for. She was with Charlie. Her Charlie. And Charlie. He did not need anything more than that. The big mansion in Martha's Vineyard and Jane. His Jane.
They came back two days before school would start. And those two days changed everything. When Charlie returned home, his parents announced him that he would be attending Rothchild Academy, a boarding school some meters outside of Boston. When Jane learned that she was devastated. She was used to be with Charlie, she did not know how not to be with Charlie. Charlie was her safe place, and now he would go away.
Charlie did not argue with his parents and did not express his disagreement on their decision. He was the golden boy as I said. He had a bright future, that his parents had arranged for him. And he had Jane.
So, the next day Charlie was gone, leaving a letter in Jane's house mailbox, explaining everything to her, with a promise that he would write to her everyday and that he would see her at Christmas, and an address where she could send her letters at the bottom of the paper.
Jane waited for Christmas so eagerly, dreamed of the moment that Charlie would be with her again, the moment when she would hug him, and kiss him and feel his presence right next to her. He did write to her everyday as promised, and called her on Saturdays, when he was allowed. They would exchange long letters, talking about their days, talking about their hopes and dreams. It almost felt like Charlie was there with her.
But he was not. And Jane did not feel safe without Charlie. Especially with a new person that had come into her life.
He was from New York, a man of status and prestige that had moved to Beacon Hill over summer, two houses away from Jane's. He worked for the government in a high and prestigious position. He fitted well in this neighborhood, there was no doubting that. He was rich, handsome, descendant of an 'Old Money' family, so as Jane, so as Charlie, so as everyone in this place. Everybody liked him. And why wouldn't they? He had no dirty business. At least dirty business that somebody knew about. Jane never really liked him. There was something off about him. Something that made her want to avoid him at all costs. And she was right.
The Loungewood Academy was hosting a Soiree to celebrate the arrival of Winter, a fundraising event that everyone from Beacon Hill attended. It was an amazing one, I shall say. Jane along with the student body council had organized the whole thing, and they had really outdone themselves. Jane was beautiful, as always, of course. But she was not that happy. Charlie was not there. And Charlie was always the one thing that made this type of events tolerable to her. He would be coming home in four weeks, approximately, and Jane could feel them going by excruciatingly slow. Everyone was having fun. Dancing, discussing, admiring the job the kids had done. It was an excellent evening, much needed for everyone. But turns out, for Jane, it did not end up this great.
The 'new man' gave a speech that night. He was charming, there was no denying that. With his bright smile, his well-kept figure. He sent Jane one of his dashing smiles, accompanied by a weird glance that made Jane confused, suddenly wishing Charlie was there with her. After he was done with his speech, everyone was clapping, satisfied expressions on their smiles, as the man came down and approached the bar.
Everything started with a 'Congratulations'. He approached Jane, who was standing next to the bar, making sure everything was in place, and gave her warm congratulations on the excellent job she had done. They talked for a bit, and the 'bit' turned into some more. It was fun, talking with this man. He was interesting, but still had this something that Jane found threatening. But thing is, he had the charming nature Charlie had. And Jane had not felt this close to Charlie since the last time she had hugged him. She missed him so much. And Jane felt like this man was bringing him a little closer to her. The friendly chattering turned into gentle touches by the man, on Jane's arms, or shoulders, or thighs as they spoke.
He offered to give her a ride home, since everyone was gone. Jane declined, not comfortable with the whole situation and gathered her things, wanting to get away from this man, his sudden so comfortable way with her freaking her out. She wanted Charlie. She had never wished for anything more than she wished that Charlie was with her at this moment. She felt unsafe. She went outside but it was raining. And she could not walk to her house with this rain. So, with another offer from the man she got into his car.
He... He was not a good man, Timothee. He... Hurt your mother... If you get what I mean... It is awful. Traumatized her.
Charlie knew something was wrong when her letters became less descriptive, and their Saturday phone calls were getting shorter by the week. The letters from six every week, became five. And then four. Until Charlie would get only one short letter every week, telling him she is fine. He left some days earlier, proclaiming that a close relative of his was sick and had to get home earlier than they were instructed. When he arrived to Beacon Hill, he rushed to the Ferox Masion, where he found what he was looking for.
He found his Jane. But she was not how he remembered her. She had changed. She was paler, skinnier. She looked sick. She had lost this natural sparkle that was glistening in her eyes every time she looked at him. She was just there, physically. Because Charlie could feel like her mind and soul were not with her. He hugged her, close and tight. And Jane was crying. Because she felt safe again, but she needed this safety some days earlier.
She told him that they couldn't be together anymore. That they shouldn't. This wrecked Charlie. When he asked why she lied to him, ashamed for what had happened to her, claiming that she cheated on him. Charlie left then, leaving her alone. But Charlie is Charlie you know? He knows your mother all that well, to tell that she was hiding something from him. They spent Christmas apart. So did they New Year's.
The next day Charlie went to her house and asked to talk to her. She declined, afraid that he would ask for an explanation. After Charlie insisting, she finally accepted to talk to him. Charlie told her he knew that she was not telling him something, and that she was hiding something. He told her that he would wait for her until she was ready to tell him, told her he would not give up on them. And he left. The next morning, Jane went to his house, and left a letter in the mailbox, explaining everything that had happened that night to her, telling him exactly how awful she felt with herself. Telling him everything that she could not tell him out loud.
Telling him that... That she was pregnant...
Charlie was devastated. He first ran to this man's house and beat him up, his anger fueling his whole body. And then went to your mother, calming himself down. He told her he was sorry he was not there and that he couldn't protect her, hugged her tightly, hoping that he could get away even the slightest of the pain she felt. They laid down together, Charlie hugging her closely, protecting her, hoping that he would have been there to protect her like that back then. With soft voice in the darkness, he told her that he would be by her side. And if she kept the baby, and she wanted him to, they could tell everyone it was his. Promised her that he would always love her, and this baby, more than his life. Told her than if she wanted him to, he would recognize the baby as his own, and would even marry her. Told her that he would ask her properly in a few days, get her a ring and everything.
Jane at the sound of his words cried. She wanted all of this so bad but she needed to get away. To leave this town and start over. And Charlie. She couldn't do that to Charlie. She couldn't cost him his future with a baby that was not his. She knew she would love this baby, she would love you, no matter what. But it was just too much to accept what Charlie was offering. Marry him? No, no, she couldn't do that. Not now. Maybe in ten years. But she was sixteen! And he was seventeen. She would keep the baby, she knew that. But she couldn't submit Charlie to this lifetime commitment. She knew he loved her. But she couldn't let him do this. She thought it was selfish of her to do this. To marry him and make him commit for his whole life. Because yes, she wanted a future with Charlie, but not under those circumstances. Charlie deserved more.
They slept like that, this night and the next morning Charlie kissed her forehead, left a note, and left early in the morning to go back to Rothchild Academy.
Some days later he received a long letter from Jane. Telling him that his offer was generous, and that he is a great guy for having done something like that. And that she had put a lot of thought into the matter and had concluded that it would be the best if the baby knew him as his dad. Told him that if he wanted to, they could say that it was his baby, but that of course did not mean that he was obliged to raise it with him or have any kind of involvement in its life if he did not want to and that he would not have to have any kind of commitment to her, of course. Then she wrote that she loved him so much she couldn't begin to explain but she could not accept his offer to merry him. Told him that he should put really careful consideration into it and that if after ten years he still wanted to, he could ask her then.
Well, you know the story from there. Charlie came back from school the first chance he got, and they told their parents that Jane was pregnant with his baby. Went back to school, finished school, went to college, finished college. Was there every time your mother needed him. Even when she started slowly drifting away, feeling as though it was being unfair to him, he was still there. He was there every time you needed him. When you were a baby, and your mother needed to sleep properly for one day, and I couldn't calm you down, he was there. He was always coming regardless the time, he would always show up.
They love each other. They still do. But the circumstances did not help. And your mother. Your mother, Timothee. She was hiding all that because no one except from her, Charlie and I never learned what had truly happened to her. And since things were going good, her and Charlie decided that they would not tell you."
Timothee did not know what to say. His thoughts were a mess, and his eyes clouded with tears. He could not believe that his mother had gone through all of this, and that her story with her dad was not what he thought it was. Gods... The things he had told her? They were far worse now that he knew everything.
He had to apologize, to tell her that he did not know, and it was stupid of him to talk. To tell her he loved her. And his dad, Charlie, to call him and tell him he knows everything, tell him he thanks him that he was his father, tell him that he couldn't have asked for a better one. That he is a great person.
He was planning on staying the night over, at Calliope's house, but he thought that he wanted to go back to his mum and talk to her as soon as possible. So after a few minutes he gathered up his things and left. Going towards the train station to get the ride back home. Despite all the sickening things he had learned, about his mother and this man, he felt at peace. Because he could actually know what was going on for once. And maybe, just maybe, since he had more knowledge, he wouldn't hurt people with his words. Especially the ones he loved and cared about.
Who would've told him that this was the worst decision he could have made?