By for an LJSanta deadbeat.
Elena Gilbert knew something was missing.
Exactly what it was, she did not know. But she was certain that her life, while mostly fulfilling, was not what was originally intended for her. She was meant to have more, to do more.
Which was a ridiculously lame and selfish thing to feel.
She already had so much. Good friends, love, a family. What more did she have the right to ask for? And she wasn’t even asking for anything. It was stupid. She was stupid. And she was arguing with herself. Inside the kitchen of the Flowers Boarding House no less. The boarding house she was supposed to be taking care of while poor Mrs. Flowers was in the hospital getting over pneumonia. She’d minded the boarding house for its elderly owner before, but never for this long. It was going on three weeks.
Matt had come out to stay with her by the end of the first week, despite her protests that she was fine, and a fully-capable 28 year-old woman. She was pretty sure the only word in that sentence Matt actually heard was “woman.” Which was all he needed to send his over-protective nature on a rampage.
Elena couldn’t blame him though. She paused in the act of washing that morning’s breakfast dishes to look down at her very round mid-section. “Daddy’s just looking out for us, right? He thinks being seven and a half months pregnant renders Mommy helpless.” She smiled. “Daddy’s not the brightest crayon in the box.”
She wasn’t being overly taxed in the slightest. The house currently had only three guests: a young couple on their honeymoon, taking a tour through Virginia’s wine country, and an older professor on sabbatical from UVA, writing a book about Fell’s Church’s relatively minor involvement in the Civil War. When she’d asked Professor Reynolds earlier that morning why he chosen Fell’s Church instead of Appomatox or Antietam, or some other place vastly more exciting, his face had lit up like a kid’s on Christmas.
“But that’s it exactly, my dear!” he’d exclaimed, pouring a generous amount of sugar into the coffee she”d just handed him. “Those other places have been studied endlessly. The impact the war had on Fell’s Church is something the academic world hasn’t yet considered.” He’d paused in the act of raising the coffee to his lips, realization dawning in his eyes. “You’ve lived here your entire life, correct?”
“Oh yeah,” Elena’d finished buttering a plate of toast and sat it down on the table near the professor. The newly married Mr. and Mrs. Thompkins had yet to come down to breakfast. Remembering her own honeymoon, Elena was pretty sure she knew what was delaying their arrival. She’d sighed wistfully at the thought, and at what she’d said next to the professor. “My entire life.”
Not catching the edge of bitterness in her voice, Professor Reynolds had enthusiastically cut into his eggs over-easy. "And your parents as well, I assume?" She'd nodded. "But that's marvelous! A true sense of continuity and tradition! That's what makes small towns so fascinating. And Fell's Church has the added bonus of a history rife with paranormal folklore! The tales of the dead soldiers who haunt the woods here are just the tip of the iceberg, Mrs. Honeycutt."
“Elena.” Her sharp response had startled him, so she’d busied herself, pouring orange juice so he woudn’t see the blush spread over her cheeks. “Please call me Elena,” she’d said more gently. “Mrs. Honeycutt makes me feel so formal. Besides, I still haven’t legally changed my last name.”
“Of course, Elena. From the Greek name Helen, you know. The woman whose beauty launched a thousand ships and started the Trojan War. Do you know what the name Elena means?”
Genuinely interested, she’d brought the orange juice over to the table and sat down across from the professor. “No, I don’t.”
“Light.” Another sip of coffee. “Shinning light, or the bright one. Although, that latter definition comes more from the Italian than the Greek.”
Elena had rested her chin in her hands as she leaned on the table. “That’s really cool. I’ve always wanted to learn Italian. It seems like such a romantic language.”
The professor had smiled indulgently. “Well, it is, my dear. One of the great romance languages. And it would be well-suited to a beautiful girl such as yourself. I imagine you’ve probably had an abundance of romance in your life already.”
She hadn’t been able to stifle the laugh that bubbled out of her throat. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Professor Reynolds. Small town life may seem whimsical and charming on the outside, but the reality is far different. And while I love my husband and I know he loves me, he’s not what you would really call the romantic type. Any idea what the name Matt means?”
He’d selected another piece of toast and was spreading jam on it. “Yes, actually. Matthew is a biblical name. From the Hebrew it means ‘gift of God’ or God’s Gift.”
She laughed again. “Of course it does.”
The sudden and boisterous entrance of the house’s other guests, both smiling and glowing, had then put an end to their conversation. The professor shifted back into research mode, asking the newlyweds for their impression on Fell’s Church. Elena had listened with amusement at John Thompkins recounting of how they had heard the tale of town founder Honoria Fell the day before at one of the wineries they’d visited and it had freaked Susie out so much she hadn’t been able to sleep. With a vehement, “Not true!” Susie had lightly smacked her husband on the shoulder, causing him to spill the glass of orange juice he’d just picked up. Everyone at the table had broken out into laughter as Elena had risen to grab a towel to clean up the mess. The sound had made her smile.
The memory of the spilled juice had her smiling again over the sink filled with dishwater a few hours later. She was jolted out of her thoughts by the sound of tires on the gravel drive in front of the house. A glance at the clock told her none of the guests were due back this soon, so she dried off her hands and made her way over to one of the kitchen windows to see who it was. If it was a new guest, she’d need to put on another pot of coffee. She parted the lace curtains and peered out, but whomever it was had pulled right up to the front door, which she couldn’t see from her current angle. Just as she was about to move toward the entrance she heard the front door open and slam shut again.
For a brief second her heart caught in her throat. What if it was burglar? Why hadn’t she locked the door? Matt was always after her about that. Oh God, what if they hurt the baby? She was just looking around for something to use as a weapon when she heard a familiar voice call her name.
“Elena? Where are you?”
She sighed with relief. Margaret. “I’m in the kitchen,” she replied. Her heart still beating rapidly, she sank into a chair at the table as her younger sister breezed into the room. Elena had a flashback to herself in high school as she looked at Margaret in her cheerleading uniform, her sunny blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wondered how the years had gone by so quickly since then.
Margaret dumped her duffel bag on the floor and plopped down in the chair next to Elena. She reached for some grapes from the bowl at the center of the table, then looked sideways to silently ask for permission. Elena nodded and Margaret began popping fruit into her mouth.
“What’s up with you? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost or something.”
Elena rolled her eyes. “You scared me half to death just now. I didn’t know who was coming in the door. Why are you here anyway?”
“Good to see you too, Sis.” She jumped up and headed over to the refrigerator. “I had practice this morning. When Mom and Dad picked me up after, they told me they had an appointment with their accountant or something. They didn’t want me staying at home by myself, even though I’m fourteen and completely able to function alone for a few hours. I would have gone to hang out with Joanna, but she and her family are out of town this weekend, so I asked the parentals to drop me off here.” She pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge then closed it with a nudge of her hip.
“That was Mom and Dad who dropped you off?” Elena threw an irritated glance toward the windows. “Why didn’t they come in and say hello?”
Margaret opened her water and leaned back against the counter by the sink. “Said for me to tell you hello. They were running late. Mom said she’ll call you later. Something about finding our old bassinet. I guess she wants to give it to you for the baby.” She paused to take a drink, then glanced down at her sister’s stomach. “You’re getting huge, by the way.”
Elena glared at her. “You’re adopted, by the way. Also, you can walk home later, you ungrateful brat.”
Margaret laughed. “Matt will take me home. He adores his sister-in-law. Where is he anyway?”
“Work.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Don’t get me started.” Realizing she was hungry herself, Elena reached over and grabbed a handful of grapes. “That man eats, breathes, and sleeps his work. Who knew he’d love being an estate lawyer so much? He’s a weirdo.”
A teasing smile crept up on Margaret’s face. “A hot weirdo.”
Elena nearly choked on a grape. “That’s just wrong. You’re my little sister, you’re not supposed to find any guy, let alone my husband, hot.”
“I just call ‘em like I see ‘em,” Margaret replied. “Hot is hot. And I’m not so little anymore, thank you. In fact--” The ring of the telephone, hanging on the wall next to the kitchen door, cut her off. Elena started to haul herself up, but her sister waved her back down then crossed to answer the call.
“Who even has a phone like this these days?” she asked while glancing at the rotary wheel in disgusted puzzlement. But before Elena could respond, she picked up the receiver and said smoothly, “Flowers Boarding House, how may I help you?”
Elena raised her eyebrows in surprise. In response, Margaret silently mouthed, “Shut up.” Turning her attention back to the call, she said, “Oh, hi Matt! Yeah, it’s me.” At the mention of her husband’s name, Elena smiled and got up. She moved toward her sister and extended her hand to take the receiver, but Margaret shook her head. “Yeah, I was worried about Elena being out here all day, bored and gigantically pregnant.” Elena’s outraged squawk brought a broad smile to her face. “So I decided to come and keep her company, make sure she didn’t eat all the guest’s food---hey!”
Elena, gigantically pregnant as she was, managed to elbow her sister and grab the phone receiver in one fluid motion. Margaret stuck her tongue out at her and went back to her bottle of water. She smirked and put the receiver to her ear, hearing a quiet chuckle from her husband. “You didn’t hurt her, did you?” he asked, knowing it was Elena on the phone now.
“She’ll live. Which is unfortunate, since I long to be an only child again.” She ignored Margeret’s derisive snort. “Hello, you. Tell me you’re leaving work soon.”
Matt sighed. “I’m leaving work soon, yes. But I won’t be coming back to the boarding house right away. I have to go over to the hospital.”
Elena caught the serious turn in his voice. “Has something happened? Mrs. Flowers?”
“Yeah.” There was a slight pause. “I’m sorry to tell you this honey, but she died about an hour ago.”
Feeling like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs, Elena reached out her free hand and braced herself against the wall. “What? But, how? She was doing better the last time I talked to her nurse. They were going to take her off the oxygen!”
Margaret, realizing what the call was about, came and put her arm around her sister’s waist. Elena leaned into the comforting embrace as she listened to Matt go on.
“Apparently she took a sudden turn for the worse this morning. The doctor said it happened so quickly, and there wasn’t anything they could do that they hadn’t already been doing. She was 87, I guess it was just her time to go.”
“This is awful,” Elena felt tears welling up in her throat for the woman she’d known since she was a child. The woman who’d always been kind to her and her friends, and who’d taught her how to make lemonade and work in a garden. “I wish you were here. I guess you have to go fill out paperwork or something?”
She heard Matt let out a rough breath. She could tell he was upset too. “Yeah, since I’m her lawyer and she didn’t have any family left, I need to take care of all her affairs. I’m the executor on her will too.” He paused again. Elena knew there was something else he wanted to say.
“What?” she pressed. “Tell me.”
“I wasn’t allowed to say anything while she was alive because I was bound by confidentiality, but since you’re going to find out soon anyway once her will is made public, I might as well tell you now. Elena, she left the boarding house to you.”
Margaret, her head leaning on Elena’s shoulder, was close enough to hear Matt through the receiver. “Holy shit!” she exclaimed.
“Margaret!” Elena rebuked her automatically. The young girl’s language earned another chuckle from Matt though. “Are you serious, Matt? Why would she do that?” Disbelief warred with pride in her heart.
“Well,” Matt said slowly. “I imagine she did it because she liked and trusted you. You’ve been coming around and spending time with her practically all your life, Elena. You, Bonnie, Meredith and Caroline all used to go help her on the weekends, with the gardens and cleaning the house. But you’re the only one who kept visiting even after high school, who kept helping her by watching the boarding house when she was sick or needed to be away.”
“I’m the only one who didn’t move away, you mean,” she replied.
Matt sounded slightly exasperated. “No. You could have stayed away even though we still live in Fell’s Church. It’s not like Mrs. Flowers was a social butterfly, you wouldn’t have run into her at the supermarket. You kept visiting because you wanted to. And she knew that. She loved you, Elena. You were probably the closest thing she had to family.”
Oh, now she was really going to cry. “I should have been there at the hospital, Matt.” Margaret hugged her tighter. “She shouldn’t have died alone.”
“Sweetheart, she was asleep. It was very peaceful, I promise you. And you’re doing what she wanted you to do-- you’re running the boarding house. Your boarding house now.”
Her stomach clenched. “My boarding house. Are we really going to keep it, Matt? What about our condo?”
“I don’t know, Elena.” He let out a short laugh. “I mean, I’ve thought about it a little bit, but it was all kind of theoretical before. We can talk about it more when I get back. But ultimately, it’ll be your decision.” She gave a watery laugh too and he went on. “I’m glad Margaret’s there with you right now. I have to go, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” she said weakly. “Matt? I love you.”
She heard him suck in a breath. “I love you too. You and that little peanut of ours you’re carrying. So much. I’ll see you soon.” And she heard the line disconnect.
Margaret took the receiver out of Elena’s hand and hung it back up. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly, letting her carefully hidden sensitive nature peek out a bit.
Elena moved out of her sister’s embrace and scrubbed at the tears that continued to slide down her cheeks. “Not really,” she answered. “I’m talking about being an only child again and Mrs. Flowers is actually dead. How disgusting am I?”
Margaret opened the refrigerator and glanced back over her shoulder as she pulled out another bottle of water. “You’re kidding, right? How could you have known what Matt was about to tell you?” She opened the water and handed it to Elena. “And you weren’t serious about being an only child again, we all know that.”
Elena sipped at the water and felt it relieve her very dry throat. “Yeah, I know. I just--I can’t believe she’s gone, Margaret. I talked to her the day before yesterday and she seemed so much better. She was even joking about how she needed to come home so I wouldn’t give any of the guests food-poisoning.”
Margaret regardedly her seriously over her own water bottle. “A legitimate concern.”
Elena almost laughed. “Matt’s been doing most of the cooking,” she admitted. And then she made a wild gesture with her free hand. “See? Stuff like that! Why in the world would she leave the house to me?! I’m useless.”
The look her sister graced her with could only be described as disgusted. “Elena, you are not useless. Ridiculous? Often. But never useless.”
“Really? Really, Margaret? Because that’s how I feel. All the time. I just feel like there’s something not there--” she broke off, scared that she’d said too much. And after all, how could she expect her little sister to understand? All she was concerned with was boys and cheerleading. “Nevermind,” she finished.
Margaret was quiet for a minute, studying her sister carefully. She turned and looked out the window. “It’s so nice outside,” she murmured. “You want to go for a walk?”
Elena opened her mouth to tell her of course not, but what actually came out was, “Yeah, sure. But I have to pee first.”
Twenty minutes later the Gilbert sisters were ambling without purpose through the forest at the edge of the Flowers’ property. They weren’t moving particularly fast given Elena’s condition, and most of the walk so far had taken place in silence. Looking around for the fist time in a few minutes, as she’d been mostly concerned with watching where she’d been putting her feet, Elena was surprised to see they’d almost reached where the woods met up with the old cemetery.
“Why’d we come this way?”
Margaret shrugged. “Seemed as good a way as any. Besides, I wasn’t really paying attention.” She looked up as the first of the worn and crumbling headstones came into view through the trees. “I guess this won’t take your mind off death after all then.”
Elena threw her a withering glance. “No, not so much.” She stepped around a large rock, leaning against a maple tree for support as she did so. “Was that the purpose of this exercise?”
“Sort of.” Margaret looked over, real concern showing on her face. “Why do you feel like you’re useless, Elena?”
Caught off guard, Elena stumbled slightly over a small branch in her way. Margaret reached out to help steady her, and they stopped for a moment, both breathing a little heavily. “I’m fine,” Elena said when Margaret didn’t immediately let go.
“No you’re not.”
“It doesn’t matter, Margaret. Someone died. I’m not supposed to be fine.”
Her own blue eyes looked back at her from her sister’s face. “It’s more than that.” She held a hand up when Elena started to protest. “I may be a lot younger than you Elena, but I’m not an idiot. What did you mean earlier when you said you felt like something wasn’t there?”
For a second, Elena thought about dismissing the whole thing and brushing off her sister’s question. But as she listened to the quiet springtime noises of the forest and felt the gentle April breeze over her skin, the enormity of her feelings became too much for her.
“I’m not who I’m supposed to be,” she said simply.
Margaret frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I feel like a fraud, Margaret. A sham. A useless shell of who Elena Gilbert was supposed to be.”
“Huh. Well. Remember what I said about you often being ridiculous?”
Elena’s eyes narrowed. “You asked. Did you ask just so you could make fun of me?” Angry now, she turned her back and started walking again.
Margaret followed after her. “Elena, I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to make fun.” She caught up easily. “It just seems weird--I mean, you’re Elena Gilbert Honeycutt. Girl next door who married her high school sweetheart. Who else are you supposed to be?”
Elena grimaced. They were now winding their way through the headstones. It seemed fitting for the conversation. “More than that.”
“What more?”
“I don’t know!” Elena wrung her hands together, trying to think of a way to properly convey all the thoughts racing through her head. Her wedding band felt cool as she twisted it on her finger.
Margaret stopped walking, suddenly sober. “You love Matt, don’t you? You told him you did.”
Elena whirled around to face the younger girl. “Of course I do! I’ve always loved him!” She frowned. “I just feel like there was maybe supposed to be something else. Or more. Or I’m supposed to be more. Sometimes I feel like I’m pretending. And now, now I’ve been given this huge responsibility. Someone died and left me their whole life! How do I not mess that up?” She laid a hand on her stomach. “How do I not mess everything up? I’ve never done anything truly special, Margaret. And every now and then, I get the feeling that there’s something I should be doing. Something extraordinary.”
Compelled to look down for some reason at the headstone in front of her, she thought she could just make out the name on it--Gertrude Higgins. Who had Gertrude been? Suddenly, the stone seemed to change in front of her, becoming newer, bearing a different epitaph. “Elena Gilbert: A Light in the Darkness” She gasped and stepped back.
“Elena!” Margaret rushed to her side. “Are you okay? Is it the baby?”
Her heart was racing. What was that? It was as though for a split second she had grasped onto that other Elena. The one who did all the extraordinary things. The one who paid the price for them. Glancing back, she only saw Gertrude’s name again.
“I’m okay,” she told Margaret, squeezing her hand. “I’m sorry for babbling on about all this.”
Margaret’s forehead was still creased in worry. “Like you said, I asked. Do you need to sit down or something?” Elena shook her head. “Look Elena, you may think you have the market corned on angsty feelings, but I’m a teenager. I know a thing or two about them myself. Especially the feeling of being meant for more.” She tugged on her sister’s hand, pointing them back in the direction of the boarding house. “I don’t know what more you’ve been looking for, but I think you already have it.”
Elena looked at her questioningly. “You talk about doing extraordinary things,” Margaret continued. “What do you call owning and running a boarding house?” She paused, then pointed at Elena’s belly. “And what do you call that, wise sister of mine? It’s not an Easy Bake oven, that’s for sure.”
Elena had to laugh. “An Easy-Bake oven?”
“You and Matt created life, Elena. That’s amazing. That’s extraordinary. You’re already doing everything you’re supposed to be. And if there’s more, you’ll find a way to do that too. Mrs. Flowers believed in you. So do I.”
Looking at her sister in awe, Elena wondered if she was the older one after all. “You’re pretty smart sometimes, you know that?”
Margaret’s smile was immediate. “Didn’t you hear? I know everything.”
Elena made a fake gagging sound that had Margaret giggling loudly. She began to loosen her grip on her sister’s hand, but Elena held on, sharing a look of thanks and understanding with the younger blond.
“So,” Margaret cleared her throat of the emotion threatening to overwhelm her. “Have you guys settled on a name yet? I can’t believe you haven’t found out if it’s a boy or girl.”
“We want to be surprised,” Elena answered. “And we have a few name ideas, we’ve been kicking around, but nothing definite.
“If it’s a girl, maybe you should name her after Mrs. Flowers.”
Elena laughed. “Eugenia?! I loved Mrs. Flowers, but I think she’d understand me saying no way to that idea.” She paused. “It feels good to laugh, like she would have wanted us to. I thought it would feel disrespectful.”
Margaret nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Mrs. Flowers was pretty cool though, not like a lot of old people. Remember when she made that cake for my 10th birthday, but she only had some of those number candles? And they were a “3” and a “4”?”
“And all night we were joking about how young you looked for 34!” Elena laughed harder. “Then Dad joked about how it was really pathetic that you were still jobless and living at home at your age!”
Completely cracking up now, they wandered hand-in-hand, sharing more stories about the woman who’d played such a large role in their lives. Elena was so caught up in Margaret’s retelling of Mrs. Flowers trying to fix the garbage disposal in the kitchen, she didn’t notice the large crow watching her from the branches of the same maple tree she’d leaned against earlier. His shiny eyes took in her glowing skin and rounded belly, the easy conversation she shared with the girl beside her.
And as Margaret exclaimed, “And there were tomato chunks everywhere!”, Elena felt the tiny life inside her move around, as if he or she was trying to laugh at the story with them.
And she felt the hole inside her begin to fill up. She looked up toward the blue sky, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time, while taking a simple walk with her sister.
The crow flew away, the sunlight reflecting brightly off of its inky black feathers.
Author's Note: This fic is named after the Beatles' song "Fixing A Hole", which Paul McCartney wrote after doing just that. He fixed a hole in his roof. Seemed appropriate.
Fin.
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An lj-smith.com and panavatar.net production. LindaMarie came up with the original concept, Red took over for subsequent years, and the torch has now passed to Incanto.
