Summary: Tragedy brings twelve-year-old Rachel back home to her father, and Mark hopes that things will go back to the way they were in the old days. But it’s not as easy as it seems. Part 4 in series.
Author’s Notes: Spoilers from Piece of Mind onward.
Disclaimer: The characters you’ve seen before are not mine. The end.
Feedback: I’m not a doctor, I’m not a lawyer, and I don’t have the time to pretend to be. I’m just a lowly high school student with very little free time on her hands. But if you have comments unrelated to those two areas, please tell me. I’d really love to hear what you think. I’m down on my knees begging!! Just send all comments and criticism to greeneblob707@yahoo.com with the title of the fanfic as the subject.
The news of Craig’s wish to adopt Rachel sent Mark into a frenzy. He called several lawyers with expertise in family law, and the general consensus was that Mark could easily win custody of Rachel. Still curious as to why Craig would decide to fight a battle he would so obviously lose, he decided to talk to Craig about it and hopefully find that he had come to his senses. However, he wanted to talk to Rachel before giving Craig a call.
Approaching her room, he heard silence. He knocked on the door, hoping that she would respond quickly and painlessly.
“Just a second,” she called. Mark heard shuffling inside before Rachel met him at the door.
“Can I come in?” Mark asked.
“You’re gonna want to talk, aren’t you?” Rachel predicted.
Mark smiled slightly. “Yeah,” he replied. “I do want to talk to you.”
She led him in and sat down on the bed, flailing her arms and sighing dramatically as she did so. Mark sat down next to her, and he began to explain the custody situation to her.
Rachel looked on, unaffected, as Mark explained what was going on. “I know,” Rachel said, “Craig told me already.”
Mark stopped in his explanation and looked at Rachel. “Well, I called around to different lawyers, and they all said the same thing. If I wanted to, I would probably be able to get custody of you. Full custody.”
Rachel didn’t respond. She knew she would have to make her decision right now. Looking at her dad, she couldn’t imagine saying no. She was somewhat relieved knowing that she didn’t really have a choice. It would be easier to explain to Craig in a letter or phone call than it would be to explain it to her father in person. My decision has been made, she thought.
“Unless,” Mark continued after a deep breath, “You want to go back with Craig. Then I wouldn’t fight it, and you could go back to your old school and your old friends. I wouldn’t be hurt. You could still come on visits in the summer and for Christmas-“
“No. Dad, I’ll stay,” Rachel interrupted, not wanting to listen to her options. Her dad obviously wanted her there, and, she figured, it couldn’t possibly be such a horrible place to live.
Mark was surprised at how easily she had made her decision. She had obviously been thinking about it a lot. Mark couldn’t hide the happy statement that had come across his face. “Okay,” he said. “I’m glad you want to stay.” He kissed the top of her head before leaving and said, “I’ll let you get back to- doing whatever you were doing.”
Rachel rolled her eyes as he shut the door, but once he had left, a small smile crept upon her face. She herself was surprised at how easily she had said the words. “I want to stay,” she repeated to herself. It felt as if a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She was here- to stay.
Craig had easily backed off his idea of claiming full custody. Mark had called him prepared for an out-and-out battle, but he had simply replied meekly that he was sorry to hear it and that he wished Mark the best. If it had been any of Mark’s business, he would have recommended therapy sessions for Craig immediately, but he decided to back off and let the man live his life. He didn’t want to be involved with him unless he absolutely had to be. Mark hung up the phone, confused but relieved. He had his daughter- for good.
Things started getting back to normal at the house after a while. Mark and Elizabeth began going back to work after a fairly long absence. Rachel started school at Danker Middle school a few days later. She was somewhat nervous about starting at a new school, but she decided not to let anyone know. It was quite apparent, however, to Mark and Elizabeth as she snapped at everyone at the breakfast table and refused to talk on the drive to school. She would be taking the bus eventually, but Mark insisted on driving her until she got situated.
Rachel started the day with math, which was a breeze for her. It was difficult to stay awake so early in the morning when most of the things they were learning were review for her. She fixed her eyes out the window and watched anything she could find that was more interesting than her math problems. She watched a plane make its trail in the sky, or the tree branches blow from side to side, or the young woman pushing a stroller down the street. Anything but listening to her teacher’s squeaky and irritating voice.
Unfortunately, Rachel was forced to sit all the way in the back of the class because it was the only seat left. That meant she sat next to Mia and Kathleen, the most annoying girls in school. Even though she wasn’t aware of this fact by math class, she quickly discovered it by the end of the day. They shared most of her gt classes and asked her millions of questions until she felt as if she wanted to explode. She didn’t, of course, but she did have plenty of retorts for them to let them know when to back off. But they didn’t mind being snapped at. In fact, they enjoyed it, and they attached themselves to Rachel as if she was their new best friend.
At lunch, Rachel found her own table and placed her schoolbag on the seat next to her. She was relieved to find that no one decided to approach her to ask her for a seat or to join them. She wasn’t in the mood to talk. She had done all the talking she wanted. She was tired of explaining why she had arrived in the middle of the year, who she lived with, where she lived. Each new question brought back bad memories. Didn’t they realize that by asking if she missed her mom, it made her miss her even more? It stung Rachel to think about just how much she missed her mother, but when she was taking part in her normal day-to-day activities, it didn’t bother her as much. Her classmates’ inquisitions brought it all back as if it was brand new. She hadn’t found anyone she could get along with. As far as she was concerned, the kids were very different from the kids in St. Louis, and she wasn’t looking forward to getting to know any of them.
Rachel had been able to convince her dad to let her take the bus home from school. He had reluctantly allowed her, after giving her millions of instructions about where to get off and how to get home. She wasn’t a baby. She knew how to find her own house. Even though it really wasn’t even her house, she thought.
Kathleen edged herself into the seat next to Rachel after school. Rachel gave her a look that warned her not to talk, but Kathleen went on. “Did you like our science teacher? Everyone thinks she’s so nice. She hates me, I know she does. She’s nice to everyone but me. Did you notice that?”
“Gee, I wonder why?” Rachel wanted to say. But she held her tongue, deciding it wouldn’t be best to make enemies on the first day. She shook her head and was unusually quiet for the rest of the ride as Kathleen blabbed away in her ear. Rachel was relieved when Kathleen got off a few stops before Rachel, leaving her in peace.
As the days went on, Rachel grew more accustomed to Kathleen and Mia. She got used to their babble, and she almost began to enjoy their interesting stories and never-ending conversations. They definitely weren’t like her old friends, but they certainly helped make the day more bearable. She gradually began to find her place in the food chain of the school, and she no longer dreaded waking up each morning.
At home, things were a different story. Each morning, Mark would wake up and make breakfast. He would try to convince Rachel to let him drive her to school each day. He would constantly hound her about how her grades were, whether she had homework, whether she was enjoying school, whether she was making friends. Rachel always gave vague answers, annoyed by the way her dad treated her. She felt like such a baby. Her mom had always talked to her differently. She never forced answers out of her or made her talk about something she didn’t want to talk about. At home, the reminder of her mom’s death was still very strong, and she hated being there with her dad for that very reason.
Elizabeth was always present too, acting as a buffer between father and daughter. Rachel had warmed up to Elizabeth easily. Elizabeth never tried to replace her mother or even act like too much of a mother at all. When Rachel got tired of the questionings, she would back off, even though Rachel knew that she was sometimes worried by her lack of conversation. But Rachel didn’t care.
Whenever Rachel got the chance, she would escape to her room, writing letters to her old friends or sometimes even calling her new ones. She’d listen to her music or do her homework in her room. Occasionally, she would venture downstairs and entertain little Ryan, whom she still loved and found extremely adorable.
Sometimes after school, Rachel wouldn’t come home right away. She would arrive home late and find herself at the mercy of Mark, who had exhausted himself with worry over his daughter. At these times, Elizabeth too would get angry, but only for a few minutes. Elizabeth would warn her that she should always call if she was going to be late, but Rachel never learned and never changed her ways. She refused to answer questions about where she had been or what she had been doing. She knew they were worried about her, but she insisted that it was ‘none of their business,’ and she kept her secret location to herself.
Inside, Rachel felt split. She was tired of her father, tired of being home. She loved her school and her friends. She enjoyed school and was doing well, but at times she got a terrible pain in her chest when she felt the memories of her mother rushing back to her. It was all jumbled up. She wanted to escape.
One Saturday morning, Rachel found herself alone in the house. Of course, she hadn’t simply found herself like that. That would have been too easy. No, Mark had prepared her for this quite well after finding that Mark and Elizabeth’s schedules had overlapped. They were working the same exact shifts and would have to take Ryan to day care, leaving Rachel with the empty house.
They had left plenty of instructions for her. At least, Mark had. She wasn’t supposed to open the door to anyone. If the phone rang, she was to tell them that Mark or Elizabeth was ‘busy’ and hang up. She was supposed to clean her room while they were gone since she had ignored their request the entire week. She was to get herself a good lunch, and to be generally safe and use common sense. Rachel had rolled her eyes and practically pushed him out the door. “I have been home alone before, you know,” she reminded him. “I know. I’m just being a father,” he replied. “Be good!” Elizabeth gave Rachel a sympathetic smile and told her that they would be back at five.
Rachel waved good-bye as they pulled out of the driveway. Mark called out the window of the car, “Don’t forget to lock the door!” She saw Elizabeth say something to him, apparently scolding him. Rachel shut the door (and locked it) as soon as they were out of site. “Freedom!” she sighed, as she turned to greet the empty house.
She decided to clean her room first so she could get it out of the way. She threw all the papers and dirty clothes from her floor onto her bed, waiting for later to throw them in laundry baskets and trashcans. She began to dust off her bureau, but she didn’t make it all the way through. She stopped to glance at her old pictures, one of herself and her mom, one of her and her old friends. She smiled to herself as she looked at them, remembering. She nearly got lost in her daydream. She missed them. All of them.
Suddenly, the phone rang. She ran downstairs to grab the portable phone, remembering her father’s instructions, however babyish they may have been.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hi. Is Rachel there?” the young voice on the other end asked.
“Yeah, this is Rachel,” she said.
“Oh, hi! This is Mia.”
“Hi, Mia,” Rachel replied.
“I’m calling from Kathleen’s house. We wanted to know if you wanted to come over too. Her mom said it’s okay.” Rachel heard Kathleen on the other end in the background. She wanted to be over there so badly.
“I can’t,” Rachel answered. “My parents aren’t home.”
Mia sounded disappointed. “Can’t you just leave a note or something? It’s not that far away.”
Rachel looked around the empty house as if it was listening to her conversation, worrying that the walls might tell on her if she said yes. Mia was right; her parents wouldn’t be worried if she left a note. And in all the directions her father had given her, he hadn’t mentioned staying in the house.
Rachel agreed to it quickly and hung up the phone before she could change her mind. She went upstairs and grabbed an already used piece of paper from her bed on which to write her note. She flipped it to the other side and scribbled where she was going, the name of her friend, and the street name. She hastily posted it on the front door before realizing that it might not be the best place for it. She then tore it down and moved to the kitchen, where she used a magnet to secure it on the refrigerator. She prayed that they would find it right away and then ran out the door, leaving her conscience, and her messy room, behind.
Mark and Elizabeth arrived home later that afternoon with Chinese food in hand, expecting to find Rachel at home and maybe happy for once. Elizabeth called her name once, then twice, then a third time. Worried, she ascended the stairs to her room, and, finding it empty, ran back down to Mark.
Mark had found the note on the refrigerator, and although it angered him for a second, he was more concerned with what was scribbled sloppily on the other side.
Dear Dad and Elizabeth,
I know you have been really nice to me by taking care of me, but I don’t think I want to stay here. Craig has been nice to me all my life, and I miss my friends at home. I’ve tried to get used to it all, but it’s really different, and I think it would be better if I just left completely. I’m really sorry if it hurts you, but I am going to get on the train tonight and leave. I will call Craig when I get there and he will pick me up. Don’t worry, I’ll be very safe, and I have enough money. I love you even though I don’t say it much. Thank you.
Love,
Rachel
Mark read the letter, obviously confused. Elizabeth moved behind him and read the letter too. She crumpled her brow and looked at Mark.
“When do you think it was written?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“She probably feels differently now,” Elizabeth remarked.
“We should talk to her about it. Make sure she’s okay,” he said.
“Do you want me to call her friend’s house?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Tell her to come home.”
Mark and Elizabeth ate their dinner while waiting for Rachel. Mark wasn’t sure how he was going to react to her when she came in. He was angry with her- very angry- for leaving the house without more than a note. If she had been sensible, she would have called him at work. He didn’t like the idea of her going to the house of a friend whom he had never met, and furthermore doing it without his permission.
On the other hand, he was concerned about the other letter he had found. He felt guilty for reading it, but she had left it there, and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. If she still felt this way, he wanted to know so he could help her. No matter which issue he addressed first, it wasn’t going to be pleasant.
Rachel opened the door and approached the table timidly, knowing from their expressions that she should be scared. “I’m sorry,” she said, before they could get a word out, “I know I shouldn’t have left, but it’s the first time someone’s invited me to their house and I really wanted to go.”
Mark nodded, but Elizabeth said, “You could have called one of us at work. You know that we want you to make new friends.”
“So I guess I’m in trouble?” she asked carefully.
“Later,” Mark said. “First, tell me when you wrote this.”
Rachel took the paper from his hands, confused. “I wrote it today.”
“The other side,” Elizabeth prompted.
Rachel turned it over and read it, her face turning red. She obviously remembered writing it. “It was a long time ago,” she said.
“And do you still feel that way?” Elizabeth asked.
“No,” Rachel replied defensively. “I’d never be dumb enough to run away like that. I was angry and I wanted to, but I never would have really done it. I swear,” she said.
Rachel remembered that day clearly. This was one of many drafts she had written trying to tell them that she wanted to leave. She had thought about it for several days and had carefully planned out what she wanted to do. Fortunately, she had come to her senses and realized how unrealistic her plan was. She was happy she had stayed, but she was embarrassed at how silly she had been at the time.
“I think you should go upstairs and start cleaning your room now,” Mark said.
Rachel glanced at them both and walked away, grabbing a laundry basket on the way. They watched on, wondering what was really going on inside her head.
Mark joined Rachel in her room later that night, hoping to have a real conversation this time. At least now he had something to go on. She was stuffing her clothes angrily into the basket when he found her.
“You know, your punishment will be a lot lighter if you talk to me,” Mark said, trying not to sound too harsh.
“I don’t want to talk,” she said. “I don’t need to talk. Stop treating me like such a baby. I just wanted to see my friends.”
“Do you still feel the same way as you did in the letter?” he asked.
“No,” she answered, moving around the room to straighten out the clothes in her bureau.
“Would you like to tell me how you feel about staying here now?” Mark prodded gently.
“No,” Rachel replied sharply, stopping her work and placing her hands on her hips. “What’s the punishment if I don’t talk to you?”
“A week without tv,” he answered.
“The punishment should fit the crime,” quipped Rachel.
“Not if I say it shouldn’t,” Mark replied.
“Fine. Then I’ll take the punishment.”
She went about doing her work again and continued until the room was squeaky clean. Maybe she should have just taken that train when she’d had the idea. Who knows how things would have turned out. It had to be better than this, she thought.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7