Mary Crawley (forgetwhatisay) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-03-04 12:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, frodo baggins, mary crawley, merrill, sybil crawley |
if this was America, she didn’t see was all the fuss was about
Who: Mary Crawley, Sybil Crawley, Frodo and Merrill & Some NPCs
When: An Afternoon Last Week
Where: Baggins Villa
What: Family Reunion
Rating: PG for some Moodiness
Status: Complete
Had they landed a few days earlier, the view from the taxi would have been quite different: seven-story mushrooms, a castle guarded by living children’s toys, people riding snails. As it was, Mary Crawley felt the architecture was rather lacking. The palm trees were nice, but if this was America, she didn’t see was all the fuss was about.
On top of it all, the taxi had a terrible odor embedded in the seats. Onions and cigarettes and something that was sickeningly sweet. He pinched her nose for a moment and sighed. “I don’t see why we couldn’t have rented a car,” she said, turning to her mother, who was sitting in the backseat between Mary and her sister, Sybil. “Or had Cousin Frodo send one.”
Her mother, Cora kept her eyes on the road. Of the three of them, she was the only one to whom this journey was familiar. She had been born here, after all. “It’s hardly worth it for a few miles, Mary.” Secretly, she enjoyed the Taxi in spite of the smell. Occasionally, it was fun to take a break from chauffeurs, butlers, and maids. A short break.
"It's sort of an adventure," Sybil pointed out, not as worried about looking improper as her mother was. Her words were confirmed when the driver took a particularly sharp turn and dodged traffic in a way the Crawley drivers back home wouldn't dream of. "Oof!" Sybil was shifted nearly into her mother's lap during the sharp turn.
Maybe a little too much adventure. Sybil caught herself wondering if all Americans drove this way, and hoped Frodo's drivers would be better.
In her opinion, it seemed like everything they encountered was meant to give Mary a headache: the smells, the reckless driving, the dizzying oddity of everyone passing on the wrong side of the road. She closed her eyes and reminded herself that she was the reason why they were here, and then tried to forget it.
Mary opened her eyes in time to catch a sign that read Laguna Beach. The houses were still rather boring, but at least they were bigger. “Good to know Cousin Frodo hasn’t become destitute.”
"Oh, Mary, don't talk like that!" Sybil said, with the slightest hint of exasperation. "It's really not as awful as you're making it out." She should let her mother do the scolding, but Sybil had listened to her sister moan all day, she couldn't bear to hear Mary grumbling at the expense of Sybil's favorite uncle.
Granted, Sybil hadn't seen Frodo in many years, but the memories she had were very fond.
Another sharp turn had Sybil gripping the seat. The driver wasn't really helping Sybil win her case.
Mary chose not to respond. Sybil had a way of ending an argument by her good nature alone. It was difficult to argue with her, even for Mary.
They turned a corner and the beach came into view, while the number of houses decreased. They also became much larger and more stately, as stately as homes seemed to get in southern California, anyway. The taxi rolled to a stop in front of a large white villa where some construction appeared to be taking place. It was a pretty house, even Mary had to admit, though not aloud, of course.
Sybil grabbed her handbag and jumped out of the cab, too excited to wait. She had to keep herself from running to the door--she really wasn’t in the shoes for that. “I wonder what he’s building,” she commented mostly to herself, already halfway to the door.
One thing she would agree with Mary on was having Frodo send a car to get them back to their new home. The feeling of relief once she was out of deathtrap cab was palpable.
“Sybil, slow down,” called her mother. Even if the girl wasn’t running, it seemed like it was only a matter of time before she was off like a shot. Privately, she worried about the effect America would have on the girl.
Inside the house, Carson the butler was in a near tizzy, preparing tea and plating food for the guests. He so seldom was allowed to really wait on anyone, but this time Frodo had especially requested it, knowing it would make the Crawleys feel more at home. Frodo himself was upstairs, trying on every pair of shoes he had, hoping to find one that would keep him from swimming his his trousers. He really was getting shorter and shorter still. He grumbled silently. He didn’t like the idea of looking messy when greeting visitors.
Merrill had been catnapping in the study where she'd set up her little reading corner. It seemed Carson would have preferred Merrill to change into more formal attire for dinner, but he was learning to compromise. He was lucky to get the elf to put shoes on.
Sybil stopped at the door, ringing the bell and glancing back to the cab where her mother and sister were. It might have been rude not to wait for them, but she was too eager. And maybe there would be help with the luggage.
Carson perked up. He was a stoic man, but he couldn’t quite conceal how happy he was to be a real butler today. He left the kitchen and walked in a stately manner to the door.
Frodo had at last found a pair of pants that worked well enough and was tying his shoelaces. Lately, he’d disliked shoes as much as his wife. “I’ll be right down,” he announced, even though the door had not been open yet. By now, there was a wide grin on his face.
Mary was the last in the little line that had formed on the front path. She had waited for the taxi driver to pull their suitcases for them, but he had refused and now that she was the one doing it, it had set her back. Looking as happy as everyone else was going to be a challenge. Typically, she enjoyed a good battle, but not particularly with herself.
Sybil frowned when she saw Mary struggling with the luggage, and started back for the taxi. It seemed like she should be the one doing that, being the youngest and all. Mary was more of the ‘lady’, in regards to all that proper stuff. Sybil never minded that sort of thing.
“I can help!” she said when she’d gotten close.
Had she been Edith, the third Crawley sister, Mary would have had a sharp word. Edith was selfish and... Well, let’s just say they did not see eye to eye on many things. But Sybil was just caught up in excitement. Despite her foul mood, Mary didn’t want to rob her of that.
Cora turned around and saw what Mary was doing. He pursed her lips and shook her head. “Oh, just leave them where they are. Frodo has a butler, you know.”
As if on cue, Carson opened the door. He was still trying to look serious, but the light in his eyes was bright. He had never met the Crawley girls before, but he had met Cora several times and he was very happy to see her again. He bowed and introduced himself to the younger ones.
Sybil was already pulling boxes out of the trunk, having missed her mother's reprimand. She really didn't mind getting her hands dirty, and this wouldn't even do that. The gift she was picking up was relatively light, but she jumped when Carson spoke up, bumping lightly into Mary.
"Oh! Hello," she said, a little embarrassed as she struggled to see over the top of the boxes.
Mary lurched forward in rather unladylike fashion, but didn’t hold it against Sybil. She was always looking to help. There was no thinking ill of her for it. She forced a smile and tried to match the one she knew her sister was beaming. “Hello,” he greeted with a nod of her head.
Frodo hurried down the staircase, his frown long since vanished. Though it had been a long time since seeing this section of his family, the voices were familiar. He reached the landing and looked around for Merrill, knowing she would be a little slower in reaction. Hopefully she was able to get up from wherever she was.
Once the greetings were out of the way, Carson made his way to the cab, relieving the girls of the packages and encouraging them to leave him to it. Once Frodo appeared in the doorway, this was easily done. Sybil rushed back to the door, actually running this time. "Uncle Frodo!"
He was more accurately described as a cousin, and was technically her father's cousin. But the age difference was like that of an uncle, and the way he'd spoiled the girls the last time they'd seen him just made him feel more like an uncle to Sybil. That was what she had called him when she was nine, and it's what she was calling him today. "I'm sorry we didn't make it to the wedding, I wish we could have! You'll have to show us all the pictures."
Frodo was was not a boisterous man, but he came very close at the first sight of the girls. Though they weren't girls anymore, were they? "My goodness, Sybil, you're not allowed to be this grown up. I order you to stop."
"And what about me, Uncle Frodo?" asked Mary, stepping into view. Yes, she called him uncle as well, though she considered him a cousin. It was a habit.
Sybil gave Frodo a big hug, laughing. "Yes, I'll try," she said, stepping back so that her sister and mother could greet him, too.
When Merrill came around the corner, Sybil's eyes widened. "Merrill?" She had seen a photo of the two of them, but this was a surprise! "Congratulations! I didn't know! Who's in trouble, you or Father?" she asked her uncle, not sure where the communication had broken down. This seemed like a big bit of news not to share! She turned to look at her mother, wondering if Cora had known.
Cora had not, but she wasn’t entirely surprised. Frodo had always seemed like a man in need of a family.
Mary was a bit stunned as well. The happy sort of course. In fact, she utterly forgot her self-centered grumbles for a few moments. She finally walked forward to give her cousin and his wife a kiss. “Congratulations. What a nice surprise.”
Frodo blushed. Yes, it had been a surprise for everyone, but he decided against sharing that. If anyone wished to, they could easily do the math. “It’s probably my fault. My absent-mindedness is notorious.”
Sybil wasn't bad at math, but she wasn't especially good at estimating from looking, and she wouldn't have thought to put things together, anyway. She was too happy to be suspicious. Her first instinct was to throw her arms around Merrill for a congratulatory hug, but she didn't really know the woman yet, and there was some hesitation over what sort of touching was allowed with a pregnant woman. Sybil didn't have much experience in that sort of interaction.
She ended up following Mary's lead, giving Merrill a kiss on her cheek. "That's wonderful," she said, smiling brightly.
Merrill smiled at the two girls, pleased they were already hitting it off. "Thank you. We're very excited."
“Just a few months to go,” Frodo grinned. He was still blushing a bit. He didn’t know what to do when the spotlight was on him like this. Fortunately, Carson announced that luncheon was ready to be served on the patio. Frodo gestured that everyone should follow him outside.
Mary, meanwhile, had done the math and fought her knowing smile.
Merrill reached for Frodo's hand, squeezing it reassuringly--it was as much for herself as it was him. Talk of how quickly the baby was coming gave her a twinge of anxiety, but she smiled. "Thank you, Carson."
Sybil followed the group, a few steps behind as she took the opportunity to look around, appreciating the layout of the house. It was less ornate that their home, but no less beautiful. It was a very different style, taking advantage of the sunlight, which was much more prevalent in California. "You have a lovely h--oh!" Her breath caught in her throat when she stepped onto the patio and saw the view of the ocean. The beach was gorgeous. "Oh, no wonder you have so many windows!"
Mary had to agree. There was nothing like this where they lived and she felt for the first time that something back home was lacking. At least, she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t at last found something beautiful. “It’s breathtaking, Uncle Frodo.”
Cora looked wistful. “You’ve updated Bilbo’s decor, but you could never update this.” She remembered Old Baggins quite fondly.
Frodo had changed a lot of things in the house where he’d grown up, but his cousin was right. There was nothing to be improved upon when it came to the view. He gestured to a sitting area which had been set up for the larger group, more than the pair of lounge chairs that usually stood in that spot. “Please, everyone get comfortable. If I know Carson, he will want to serve on time. Would anyone care for something to drink?”
Sybil took a spot where she could look out over the sea. She knew she would probably be useless for conversation with this view, but she didn't want to look away. "I hope you'll have us over to swim sometime," Sybil said, inviting herself over without thinking of propriety. She wished they'd brought suits today. It was a gorgeous day for it.
She glanced over at her mother before answering "Tea, please." She had a feeling Uncle Frodo might let her sample something stronger if her mother wasn't there, but now wasn't the time to ask.
Merrill let the guests answer first. Carson knew that she'd mainly been drinking water lately, so she was sure he'd take care of her without prompting.
Cora also asked for tea. Mary asked for water with plenty of ice.
Frodo didn’t think his money was something worth taking much pride in, since Bilbo had done the work of earning it, but he had inherited a great many nice things. “I actually have a private beach, not too far away,” he replied. “Away from the cliffs.”
The older Crawley girl tilted her head. “Not on the property?” Mary asked, she felt, casually.
“Not far,” Frodo repeated, unabashedly. “It’s a nice walk.”
There was a slightly awkward silence that followed, though it lasted only a few seconds. It was just long enough for the sound of the waves to take over. Cora smiled. “I cannot believe it’s taken us so long to get back together. How old were you, Sybil, last time Uncle Frodo visited?”
"Seventeen," Sybil answered, smiling. She thanked Carson when he brought the tea, and put some lumps of sugar in hers. "It's been a long time since you visited!" She didn't sound accusatory at all, but she'd missed him. Not that she could blame him for staying in such a lovely home.
Truthfully, Sybil wished she and Mary were staying with Frodo, rather than their mother's sister.
Frodo shook his head. It be honest, he spent very little time actually feeling old. Oh, he joked about it, but he was never completely serious. But in Sybil was already seventeen, then he certainly was not getting any younger. He could remember when the youngest Crawley girl had been born like it had only just happened.
He gave Merrill's hand another squeeze beneath the table and then took the iced tea Carson had brought him. "You're not allowed to grow up, Sybil. You must stop immediately." He sipped his tea and turned to Mary. "But you--"
"I was born a grown up," she interrupted, though politely so. She smiled.
"And you've come to work at Shirink."
"I have. If there's room for me." In many ways, Mary's trip to America had been sudden and unplanned. This was a loose end that needed to be tied up.
"Of course I have room," Frodo replied. "I own the company!"
Sybil laughed, nodding. "Yes, Uncle." She wondered, with amusement, how many times she would receive that instruction.
She didn't make a habit of being jealous of her older sister, but Sybil did think how nice it would be to work alongside her favorite uncle each day. They could have lunches together, while she was stuck at school.
"How long are you visiting?" Merrill asked Cora. "We usually eat with my family on Wednesdays, and they're excited to meet the girls."
"I'll be flying back this weekend,.I'm afraid," Cora replied. Then, she quizzically tilted her head, narrowing her eyes a bit. "You have a Welsh accent, don't you?" She'd lived in England long enough to tell one accent from another.
"Do I?" Merrill blushed, not quite sure how to explain it. Occasionally a student's parents would ask where she was from, and she just answered 'Russia,' much to their confusion. "Oh, sort of.. My family moved here when I was young, like Frodo."
It was true, and didn't involve her explaining to her husband's family that she was an elf. Carson had suggested that she put up her hair in such a way that her ears were covered. It was a little itchy.
Unawares, Cora was rather proud of herself and smiled. Frodo exchanged a quick glance with his wife that suggested both amusement and a grimace.
By now, Mary had decided that she liked Frodo’s wife. There was a marked change in him that was very obvious. He had always seemed incomplete before, like his life was passing him by and he was unsure how to become an active participant. Mary wasn’t sure she believed in true love, but Merrill had changed him for the better.
She looked out to the ocean to hide the loneliness that passed over her face.
Sybil had noticed the change, too, and thought it was all very romantic. They were absolutely adorable together. She wasn't jealous; she found it inspirational, actually. Sybil wasn't looking for a relationship right now--there were too many things she had to do. She needed to finish high school and find a college. There were a lot of question marks in her life, and she felt like a boyfriend would be too much of a distraction right now. But it was lovely to watch, and she very much hoped one day she would be as lucky as the two of them.
She sipped her tea, smiling happily behind her cup. "Father mentioned you were a teacher, Merrill. What do you teach?"
Merrill turned back toward the girls. "I teach third grade. About year 5, in your schools," she said with a smile.
“Do you think you’ll make it to the end of the term?” Cora asked. She wasn’t at all commenting on when Frodo and Merrill had conceived. She trusted that whenever it had happened, that it had been happy. And Frodo got a bit of a free pass, considering his age.
"I should," Merrill answered. "Unless the doctor puts me on bed rest." It was cutting it close, she knew, right at the end of May. And if she was early.. "I've arranged for a good substitute, just in case."
Mary sighed as her eyes lost their focus over the ocean. She was ever so slightly jealous of her cousin. It was beautiful. "Yes, always good to be prepared," she said, turning back to the table.
"Life can be unpredictable, even when it comes to the good things," said Frodo. This was something unexpected that made him very pleased. The afternoon and the little reunion was going splendidly, he thought. It seemed his California family kept getting bigger and bigger.
Merrill smiled over at Frodo. She felt a little like she was ignoring her guests too much, with all the glances she kept stealing with her husband. They were still very much infatuated with each other.
She turned back to their guests. "So Mary will be at Shirink and Sybil will be finishing up school?" she asked. "Have you picked where you're going to enroll?"
"Aunt Cici knows a school that's supposed to be good." Sybil hadn't really paid much attention to it. She didn't imagine it would be much different than back home, another fancy private school.
Cora nodded. "Yes, we're looking into Chilton Academy."
Frodo was impressed, but then again Sybil was notoriously intelligent. She was the sort of person who could probably do anything she imagined. "That's an excellent school."
Sybil smiled, pleased by the encouragement. "It should look good to universities." She was looking forward to applying. If she liked America, she might try to get into one of the schools here, so she could stay longer.
It was a good thing Mary had no idea what Sybil was thinking because she might have turned pale. The very idea of staying here longer than necessary was something she couldn't fathom. ...Even if this was her own doing.
Or so she kept telling herself.
Merrill nodded to Sybil. "I think it will," she agreed. "I'm sure if you can get into Chilton, you'll have your pick of universities." The girl sounded like a good student. Merrill rather liked Frodo's family, she decided. It was too bad Robert hadn't been able to come.
"Mary, how are you liking California so far?" Merrill asked the older girl. "Or should I wait until you're all feeling less jet-lagged?"
"Well, I like the ocean and you seem to have a great deal of that," Mary replied, he smile sincere. "If I should grow to love America, I don't think you'd find me going very far away."
Cora smirked. "What Mary means to say is that it's growing on her."
"Yes," Mary continued, her smile fading just a bit. "Slowly."