Who: Evie and a letter Where: Evie and Will's apartment When: Saturday afternoon What: A Saturday afternoon life changing event Warnings: Some warnings about Evie's triggery past - child abuse in all forms - but nothing graphic at all.
For the past week Evie was celebrating that she'd been getting through entire days without throwing up all the delicious food she liked to eat. There were some days that she was convinced the child she was carrying was going to make her throw up waffles until the end of time. Will had been great about it, working very hard to find things that didn't make her sick but honestly everything made her sick. Except this week. This week there was no rebellious Evie and Will spawn ruining three meals a day.
Will had gone out to run errands that would take most of the day and Evie was enjoying the aftermath of a gigantic Saturday brunch they'd had earlier and was starting at herself in the mirror in the bathroom after getting out of the shower. She felt pregnant but she didn't look too pregnant unless you were looking closely. Will always looked closely and noticed even before she did. But standing there naked in the bathroom staring at herself in a full length mirror she noticed it. "Well hello there," she said with a chuckle. She wasn't sure it wasn't just the metric ton of bacon she'd had for brunch or if it was actually their baby - but for now it was totally said baby.
She still didn't feel ready to be a mother - she'd had a terrible mother - and while she knew she would be better than that without a doubt there was still plenty of concern that the bad mother gene was inherited. She hoped her parenting skills would come from her Papa, that would be one lucky child if that were the case. And she knew Will would keep her from going too insane. She was panicked, but she didn't let it show often - because she was also intrigued and excited to meet this little plankton shaped little monster who was currently cooking inside her. It was fascinating to her as she looked from her stomach to her face and her hands moved over her stomach gently. There was a Will and Evie person in there.
She was pulled out of her trancelike state when she heard the doorbell go off and the dog went crazy barking. She pulled on her sweat pants and Will's tee shirt that was on the bathroom floor to rush toward the door. She wasn't expecting anyone and she hoped who ever it was wasn't demanding to be impressed by whoever answered the door, dripping hair and lazy clothes was as good as they were going to get. She was surprised to see a man in a suit on the other side of the door. She opened it a bit and blocked the entrance from the dog who was just dying to jump on whoever was about to enter. "Hi, can I help you?" she asked smiling widely.
The man explained that he was an attorney, he had some papers for her to sign, he needed to talk to her about a few things, etc etc etc. She was completely flabbergasted - usually these things happened at work where she had the lawyers on hand to manage this. She asked if she was being sued - though she couldn't imagine for what - and he said no. And asked to come in. Stepping aside trying to wrangle the dog, and a few apologies later they they were sitting at her dining room table and he was pulling out a briefcase and stacking papers on her table. She was a bit nervous, her foot was tapping a mile a minute under the table before he finally told her that he was a lawyer representing her mother's estate. Her mother.
Her breath caught in her chest at the realization that two things were happening simultaneously. This man in a suit had come to talk about her mother, and it appeared that her mother was dead. Evie thought about her mother every day of her life - not always bad things but she had spent the last 16 years wondering about her. She had spent those 16 years in therapy wondering out loud about her, why she'd let such bad things happen to her daughter. What she was doing, if she'd learned anything, and yes if she was okay after all this time. Evie loved her mother, had loved her mother despite it all. She just couldn't figure out why her mother hadn't loved her. And all of these questions came flooding back to her at the minute this guy in a suit mentioned her mother.
But she sat up a bit straighter, and she looked and listened attentively. Her sister was dead, and her mother had no other children - she had inherited her family's estate upon their death and it was a sizable fortune. Her mother had married into old money. Evie had inherited her father's everything upon his death and there was no way she would ever go without anything again, much less her children, or their children, or their children and so on. Her mother's estate wasn't as large but it was well into the high millions with houses and property to boot. Evie didn't want it. She didn't need it. She felt disgusted with herself as the man went on and on about everything she was entitled to. She needed another shower, she wanted to shield herself from all of it and more than that she wanted to lash out. But she didn't move. She just listened, and nodded when appropriate. The man handed her a packet of papers to sign, and a pen. A pen that she almost stabbed into the side of his neck, but it wasn't his fault. He couldn't possibly know the history, or what was happening here for her. And she wasn't keen to educate him about it. She asked if they could just donate it all to charity. He said she'd have to sign for it first. She didn't want to. She wanted nothing to do with this, she didn't want to put her name on any of this paperwork. Her father's name deserved better than this. So she left her mind for a bit. She stopped thinking, she shut down, something she hadn't done since she was a girl - but she knew it would protect her from this until she was alone again.
She took the pen, she signed, she initialed, she nodded, and signed some more. When it was all said and done, he congratulated her. It was then she couldn't take it anymore, her eyes turned a bit dark and narrowed, her fist clenched at her side and she said sharply and firmly, "I'd like you to leave my house." He apologized but had no idea what he'd apologized for. And she repeated "I'd like you to leave my house." And stood up from her chair quickly and nodded toward the door. "Now. Please." She added as he scrambled to get his things together. She was being terribly rude, but she needed him gone. She needed all of this to stop and be over with. From his briefcase he pulled out an envelope that had her name written on it, it was plain white, and standard. He set it down on the table and apologized for offending her once again and left. She felt bad to an extent. It wasn't his fault, but it wasn't her fault either. She wasn't going to start feeling bad for it after 16 years of therapy to try and figure out how to be okay with herself.
She was about to be someone's mother and here she was an orphan. The child of the world's best man, and the world's worst kind of woman. And she never felt more terrified about it all - would it go either way? Could she possibly be as bad as the woman who had given birth to her? the woman who had apparently died alone. Or maybe this was just one last way to torture Evie. Maybe she'd done it on purpose, not dying but leaving her everything. The lawyer had made it sound like the default was that it went to Evie, but maybe her mother had specified knowing what it would do to her.
But Evie hadn't yet decided what it would do to her. Part of her was fighting with the other part, the closed off part that didn't come out to play much these days at all. The last time she'd wanted to shut down, to let the other part of herself be strong had been during Will's last really bad episode. But today she was dying to pop back into the world. It wasn't so much a disorder as a defense mechanism, Evie didn't think she was crazy, but she had learned some coping mechanisms during her young life. And sometimes they were impossible to unlearn.
She looked at the envelope the lawyer had left on top of the papers. She didn't want to know what else could possibly be involved here, but she couldn't not look at it. She held it between her fingers and debated on waiting until Will was back to look at it, or calling Wren and reading it to her so she wouldn't be alone. But if she waited, she'd chicken out and light the damn thing on fire. And regret it. She turned the envelope over in her hands and opened it as she padded toward her bedroom. She pulled the single sheet of paper out as she sat down on the corner of her bed. The letter was written in French, Evie knew it was from her mother, and she hoped with every fiber of her being that there wasn't some deathbed apology hidden here, she didn't deserve the last word.
Dear Evangeline,
I don't expect that my death will bring you any grief, it is certainly not bringing me any despite knowing where I am headed. I will not belittle you with apologies or excuses - there are none that will bring you peace. I hope you've found your own peace, and if anything I hope my death will bring you closure.
Sincerely,
Your mother.
The world started to spin a bit faster and she felt a bit queazy. She stood up quickly from her spot on the bed and left the letter haphazardly on the nightstand while she made her way to the bathroom and promptly threw up. So much for her week of being vomit free. She sat on the bathroom floor for a long time before getting up and rinsing her mouth out. She was exhausted and she went back to the bedroom and laid down for a nap. While she waited for sleep to come she let her mind wander wherever it wanted to, whenever it wanted to. She'd let the strong part and the scared part duke it out while she slept.