Falling For Amelia Manning

Arms crossed and a scowl on her face, Phoebe stood by the banister while Mr. VanWright make the case for the ex-wife that left them. The woman that claims she doesn't have a daughter and wished that James was never born. She watched him talking to her mother. Smiling, Phoebe noticed that she was mirroring her mother's stature, from her head she kept rolled across her shoulders down to the tensely placed bare feet on the wood floor.

James, on the other hand, had her fingernails pinched between her teeth, something she hadn't done in years since she prided herself on immaculate fingernail care. Gently, Phoebe pulled her fingers away from her mouth and took that hand in her own to keep her from doing it again. She James wouldn't start on the other hand because it's always been her left that she's nibbled on intense situations like this.

Something her mom probably didn't know, Phoebe thought.

"You can't just keep her here, Margaret. She is our daughter; she needs to come home with us."

Phoebe couldn't help the grunt that got caught in her throat and when James' father looked over at her she saw a wave of anger on his face that hasn't happened since they got in trouble for sneaking into an R rated film. It was both parents against them then, now, her mother protected James as if she was her own daughter.

"I'm sorry, Paul, I can't let her go. Not if she is this adamant about staying away from her mother. She came here in tears, and I can't just ignore that." Phoebe felt a swell of pride for her mom. She knew James was basically another kid to her for as long as they've known each other. It's been very long since their parents were on opposite sides of things. It made for a very tense room.

"Mrs. Edan, if it's okay with you, can I talk to them in the living room?" James spoke up but held Phoebe's hand tighter for support. Gripping back, she made sure James knew she was there and wouldn't be going anywhere else.

"Paul do you and Prim want to take this in the living room?" She asked James' father and Phoebe couldn't ignore the way her mother said Prim as if it was a foul word. "That should be fine, after that though, we are going home young lady." He turned toward James this time and Phoebe felt her hand being squeezed tighter. She's never feared her father, not that Phoebe has ever seen, but it's been so long since her mother's been around that he seemed like a different person. One that she didn't want James to be around, but she was just a kid, what power did she really have?

Excusing herself, James took her hand out of Phoebe's and walked to the living room just across from them in the foyer. Taking in the old navy sectional, she found her usual spot and curled up on the cushion before her parents came into the room. Pulling a blanket over her folded legs, she turned toward the framed photos sitting along the mantel. It showed the story of not just Phoebe's family's life, but hers as well. She didn't turn back to the entrance until she heard her father clear his throat.

"James, your mother wants to talk to you, to try and explain why she left and why she's here now." Without looking at them, she kept her eyes on a picture of Phoebe, her mother, James and her father at the carnival in the center of the mantel. "I know why she left, she screamed it at me the night before we found her side of the bed empty. She doesn't have a daughter and she didn't want one. Simple." James didn't move her eyes from the photos, but she wasn't really looking at them anymore either. Gathering the blanket around her shoulders, she gave in to the warmth it provided while trying to keep away from the two people sitting on the other end of the sectional.

"That's not true, I've always wanted you, James."

It was hard for her to get the name past her lips, James noted, she hadn't picked it so why would she like it? It was her idea to give her the name Ethan when she was born, it must be hard to move onto something else.

"I must have my memories wrong then, mother, because I can remember every word you screamed. I can remember each one with more hate than the last. But of course, you didn't do that, it must have been a different mother of mine." Her eyes drifted down to the coffee table where an old mug sat from Mrs. Edan's coffee this morning. She could picture her sitting here with a book in her hands, the mug in the other, while she prepared herself for the day. Something she hasn't been able to picture about her own mother in years.

"I misspoke. I said those things out of anger and misunderstanding. I was foolish to not see the truth back then, to not see you for who you needed to be. For who you are."

Slowly, James lifted her eyes to meet her mother's, a few seconds later she directed them back down to the table. Her mother had changed in more than one way. Her hair was greyer, she was a bit thinner, but she dressed the same and as hard as it is for James to think it, she smelled the same too. The scent of honey and coffee beans always lingered on her. It wasn't a comfort like it used to be when she was smaller.

"What have you been doing?" James spoke up.

Surprised at the change of topic and tone, Ms. VanWright spoke up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you left your family, divorced your husband years ago, what have you been doing with your time?" James made sure there was enough poison in her voice that her mother knew she was serious.

"I went back to my hometown. I only sent the divorce papers so that your father could move on from me."

"You knew you weren't coming back, that's it, isn't it?" James accused her.

"I hadn't planned on it, no." She admitted.

With a scoff, James twisted so that her legs were now crossed in front of her. Looking past her father standing off to the side, she saw Phoebe listening in on the conversation. It gave her enough strength to keep talking to her mom.

"So, what brings you back now? Did your new family throw you out too?" It was a guess, and something she's had in her head for a lot of years; that her mother ran off, found someone else and started a new family. She always wondered if that's why she went through the trouble of divorcing her father from that distance. When her mother sat there for a long moment, she knew her theory had been true.

"I would like to say that's a lie, but I told myself I wouldn't lie to you today. They didn't throw me out, but when they found out why I left the two of you behind, they gave me the push I needed to come and make amends."

James' chest tightened painfully. She wanted to be wrong about her mother. She wanted to believe that she was living on her own, all alone, but she had been surrounded by a new family. One that helped her see her issues: James.

James wiped her face before anyone else could see her tears. When she looked back up at her mom, she saw her differently this time. She could see the lines around her eyes, the age that wore her down, she wondered how she kept up with a new family.

"When did you...What's your new family like?" James gathered the courage to ask, she knew it would weight down too much for her to keep ignoring it.

"It was about three years ago, he's a teacher at the same school I work at now. The one I went to as a kid. He was a friend to lean on for a long while, especially after I moved back. We knew each other as kids, and it sort of just happened. He has two kids from his first marriage, I think you'd like them." Her mother tried to move closer on the couch, but it only pushed James further away. Drawing her hand back, Prim leaned into the back cushion.

"Well, now you can tell your new kids and husband how well your old family is doing. Now that they gave you the push you needed to see your own daughter." James spat.

With a rage she hasn't felt in so long, she threw the blanket off her legs and stalked toward the foyer again. It wasn't until her father threw out an arm to catch her that she broke down. She didn't want her mother hearing her cry, she didn't want to see her face again. She moved on and in James' opinion she had a family to go back to, she didn't need hers.

"James, I don't want to leave with you feeling this way. I just wanted – "

"Wanted what?" James interrupted with a cry stuck in her throat. "You wanted the happy ending you don't deserve. I told Phoebe that I might be able to forgive you at some point, but now, I don't think I ever will. Go back to your real family. We're doing just fine here." She screamed at her mother through the tears streaking down her face. She shook with so much anger that her father had to wrap his arms around her so that she would stop shaking.

Chest heaving and nearing hyperventilation, James cried her eyes out in her father's arms.

"James I – "

"Just leave, Prim, you've done enough damage," Paul VanWright spoke sternly and finally saw the pain he brought back to his daughter. At the start of this, when she first contacted him after all these years, he thought it would be good for her. To talk things through with his ex-wife, but she never told him about her new husband and kids. His chest constricted with the pain of his daughter's anguish pushed against him.

It wasn't until the front door closed with Prim on the other side of it that Phoebe came out from behind the wall she was hiding by. When James' father saw her, he let his daughter go for a moment so that she could cry things out with her best friend while he joined Margaret in the kitchen for a cup of late-night coffee that would keep him up for the next few hours.

"Do you feel better?" Phoebe asked after they made their way back to the old sectional. James was leaning against her shoulder with her legs stretched out and a big blanket covering them both. Her face was red and puffy, and her eyes were bloodshot, but Phoebe knew she was near the end of her current pain.

"Do you remember how long it took you to get over your father's death?" James asked her. With a sharp pain in her chest, Phoebe realized why she asked her that. "I don't think I ever did. You can mourn for your mother for as long as you need to. Just don't close us off like last time, okay?" Phoebe offered the deal and James just nodded her head.

She knew it was going to be harder this time around. Last time it was all a mystery, what her mom was up to if she was even alive – though she was dead to James for a long time – now she knew. She knew her mother moved on and was happy without her. Phoebe would never know when she'd be okay again, it took years last time and she was never sure if James truly moved on, but this was so much different.

"It's almost midnight, do you want to go up to the room or bunk down here?" Margaret asked her girls as she peeked her head into the living room.

"Can we watch a movie until we fall asleep?" James asked, almost half asleep herself. "I'll put something on," she told them and busied herself by the movie cabinet. The movie hadn't even fully begun when she turned around to give Phoebe the remote when she saw them both asleep in the positions, they started in. Feel her heart swell after the mess she had to sit back and listen to, she pulled the blanket further onto the girls and flipped the light off before leaving the living room.