monroeslittle (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} monroeslittle) wrote,@ 2009-07-02 00:10:00 |
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Fic: Truth Be Told, part 4
Title: Truth Be Told
Author: monroeslittle
Genre: Veronica Mars
Rating: Teen (for later implications and such)
Summary: Marlie Echolls has as many doubts as any other sixteen-year-old girl. One thing she never doubted, however, was who her parents were. At least she didn't until a woman knocked on her grandfather's door and dropped the bombshell. Logan/Veronica; future fic.
Marlie met her at a diner.
It seemed like a cliche, but what was so wrong with that?
It had taken her two weeks to gather the guts to call her mother. It wasn't that she was afraid calling her biological mother was a mistake; she knew she had to do it. She had to have at least a single conversation with Lianne. But it wasn't easy making contact.
The conversation had been brief. "Hello?" Lianne had asked. Marlie had been struck silent for a moment. "Hello?" Lianne repeated. "Is anyone there?"
"It's Marlie," Marlie had finally breathed. "Marlene, I mean. Your daughter."
There had been a brief pause, then, and Marlie had been sure her mother could hear her heart racing over the phone. "Hi, Marlene," Lianne had greeted. "I . . . I'm glad you called."
The conversation had been full of a breathless pauses and slow, timid words, but before long Lianne had asked Marlie if she would like to meet her for lunch. Marlie had agreed. She hadn't told her parents. She had called Lianne while at school and she met her on a Saturday when her parents thought she was at her friend Kim's house.
The diner was one on the outskirts of town that was well-known but not often frequented because of its "cheap" feel. Still, Marlie had always sort of like it, and it seemed Lianne didn't mind a "cheap" venue. Lianne had been waiting in a booth when Marlie arrived, and the older woman had been nervously flattening her hair when Marlie had approached her.
"Hi," Marlie said timidly.
"Oh! Hi!" Lianne let out a nervous chuckle. "There you are." She smiled. There was silence. "Do you . . . do you want to have a seat?"
"Yeah, ah, yeah, of course," Marlie answered, blushing slightly as she slid into the booth. There was already a glass of coke in front of Lianne. "Have you been waiting long?" she asked, not able to come up with much more to say.
Lianne shook her head quickly. "Not at all. I got here a little early because I was so . . . excited to see you." Marlie felt a little prickle of warmth at those words. But this woman had left her; she wasn't naive enough to think there was a good excuse for that. She was back, though, she had come back, and she had wanted to know Marlie. . . .
The lunch was awkward at first as they asked one another stupid little questions like, "What do you like to do?" and ate their greasy hamburgers. Eventually a soft lull came as they finished up, and Marlie felt she couldn't go any longer without saying anything.
"Why did you come back now?" she asked.
Lianne didn't answer right away. "I made a mistake," she said slowly. "I never should have left you. But I was scared and lonely when you were born, and I knew I couldn't be a good mother to you. At least, I thought I couldn't at the time. So I left. There is nothing in the world I regret more than that, Marlene. I promise you."
Marlie nodded. "So you're back . . . ?"
"To make it up to you. I want to get to know you, Marlene. I want to be a part of your life. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I know I don't deserve it. I realize I long ago lost any chance of being part of Veronica's life. But I still want to be a part of yours. If there was any way you could ever forgive me. . . ."
"I could try," Marlie answered softly. Nervously, Lianne reached forward and grasped Marlie's hand in her own. Her pale hand was soft and warm and not nearly as bony as Veronica's. Marlie stared at their two hands.
"That's all I ask."
It took her a moment to screw up her courage, but finally she asked softly, nervously, “What about my father? My — my biological father, I mean?” Lianne stiffened slightly at the question. “My mom — Veronica — says that she has no idea who he is. That you never told her. But surely you have to know . . . right?”
Lianne glanced away, and her voice came out as a whisper when she said, “I know who he is.” She looked back at Marlie. “Of course I know who he is. I . . . I dated him before I married Keith and then after Keith and I split up, I ended up . . . but he’s not a good man, Marlie. I left him before you were born and went to stay with Keith and Veronica. You deserved better than him. You deserve a father like — like Logan.” She gave a brave smile.
Marlie nodded. She supposed it was the best for which she could hope. Besides, there was something in Lianne’s voice when she spoke, a gleam in her eyes, an indication that she was almost scared. Marlie didn’t understand, but she’d get the full story eventually.
She left a few minutes later. When she arrived home, it was to discover that her parents had known where she really was. Of course they had. Her dad asked her how lunch was and what she and Lianne had talked about. Marlie told him it was none of his business. Her mother had been watching TV when Marlie entered the room, and she didn't let her eyes travel a centimeter from the screen the entire time.
She decided she would go see Lianne again for lunch.
The baby was born at three in the morning after hours and hours of labor. Lianne wasn't too old, but she was certainly past the safest age for giving birth, and there had been some concern. The baby had been born without too much trouble, however, and in good health.
Veronica went to the hospital with Keith. She couldn't not. She hadn't gone into to see Lianne yet, but she had seen the baby, seen her little sister. She was starting at her right at that moment. Veronica had never had much experience with babies. And now she was staring at the tiny seven pounds and thirteen ounces of her own flesh and blood, so small and pink.
Her sister lay among rows of other babies, but Veronica had no time for any of them. She stared at her sister intently. What would life be like for that innocent little girl? How would it be to have only Lianne for family? Veronica was her family, too, but if Veronica became a part of her life then she would have to become a part of Lianne's life, and Veronica wasn't sure she could handle that.
"Would you like to hold her?" a nurse asked. Why did they always ask that?
"She's my sister," Veronica said, not sure why. "My half-sister." The nurse nodded kindly.
"You can hold her if you want," the older woman told her softly. Veronica didn't reply. "Do you want to?"
Slowly, Veronica nodded. "Sure," she murmured. She watched as the nurse went in and picked up her sister, who squirmed slightly, and the next thing Veronica knew, she was holding the small baby. The small tag on the little foot read "Mars."
"Are you a Mars?" Veronica whispered to the small baby. Big blue eyes looked up at her. Her sister had her eyes. She stared down at the baby, silent.
"She looks like you," the nurse said, and when Veronica glanced at her, the woman was smiling.
"Yeah," Veronica said absentmindedly. The baby's tiny eyelids closed. Veronica impulsively hugged her closer. Her revere was broken by the beep of her watch. Unable to glance at her wrist with a baby in her arms, she glanced at the clock on the hospital wall.
It was exactly seven in the morning. Veronica started to look back down at her sister only for her eyes to catch on Lianne, standing at the end of the hall watching Veronica. Lianne seemed startled when Veronica caught her eyes, but after a moment the older woman came towards her.
"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?" Lianne asked.
"She's a baby. She looks like a baby," Veronica answered. She gazed down at her small sister. Weren't babies supposed to cry more? Maybe her sister wasn't big on crying. That was probably a good thing.
"She looks a lot like you," Lianne told her. "Just like you, really. I've named her Marlene. I haven't thought of a middle name, though. You — you can pick one, if you want." Veronica didn't say anything.
"Who's her father, Lianne?" Veronica finally asked. "You have to know." She hadn’t brought the question up at all in the past months, but she had to know now. She had to.
"It doesn't matter," Lianne whispered. "He isn't going to be a part of her life." There was a small pause. "Are you going to be a part of her life?" Lianne asked. Veronica didn't answer her. “I guess that’s a no,” Lianne whispered.
“My dad looked into it, you know,” Veronica told her, ignoring the question entirely.
“Into what?” Lianne frowned.
“Into the father,” answered Veronica, her voice steely. But she didn’t look at Lianne. She refused. “He won’t tell me anything, though. I know he knows something but —”
"Veronica?"
Both Veronica and Lianne looked up at the sound of her name, and Veronica wasn't sure what to feel when she saw Logan coming towards them. What was he doing here at seven in the morning, anyway?
"Is that . . . ?"
"My sister," Veronica answered him. "She came a few hours ago."
"Oh," Logan said softly. "She's small."
"Babies generally are." His eyes flittered briefly to Lianne, standing and watching their exchange in silence, but he said nothing to her.
"She's, ah, cute, I guess, too," he offered. Veronica couldn't help but smile at him.
"How have you been?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Dick drank a little too much last night. Had to have his stomach pumped. That's what I'm doing here. He's the one constant in my life and he's getting his stomach pumped. Great, right?" Logan shook his head sadly. Veronica felt a twinge in her stomach.
"He's not the one constant. I'm in your life, too."
Logan didn't say anything, but when he glanced at the ground, Veronica saw the slightest curve of a smile in his face. She wondered if she would ever really get over Logan. Something about him brought out the worst in her, brought out the nastiness and bitterness, but at the same time, there were times with him when she was just so happy and. . . .
"I'm going to get some sleep," Lianne murmured.
Veronica only nodded in reply, looking back down at her sister. She really was small. It was hard to imagine her growing up and into her own person. What would she be like? Would she be anything like Veronica? Would she like the same things as Veronica?
"Hey, are you okay?" Logan asked, his voice especially soft.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean with your mom and everything. A lot's been going on," he said. Veronica looked up at him and, oh so automatically, he reached out and brushed his knuckles affectionately across the side of her face.
"I'm dealing with it," she sighed.
"You always do."
They talked about mundane things, then, about their classes and what Wallace had done in Africa and how her internship with the F.B.I. had been and the latest show Trina had just been killed off of. All the while Veronica held the small baby in her arms, letting the little girl fall asleep.
Eventually she gave the child back to the nurse and let Logan talk her into getting a cup of coffee from the cafeteria. The coffee was terrible. The company wasn't so bad, though. She really had missed him. It was impossible not to. He had been such a big part of her life for so long, and he certainly had a vivid personality.
It was nearing eleven in the morning when her father found them. She was slightly disappointed: who knew when she and Logan would get a chance to talk again? All disappointment disappeared, however, on sight of the panicked look her father possessed.
"What's wrong?" she immediately asked.
"Have you seen your mom?" Keith asked.
"I saw her a few hours ago . . . why?"
"Because she left. She checked out of the hospital.”
“Already?” asked Veronica, a small alarm going off in her head.
"Did she go back to your house?" Logan asked.
"Alicia was just leaving her house to go to work. I had her stop by the house. She said no one's there, but Lianne's things are gone." Veronica couldn't believe it. Had her mom really just left . . . again?
"And the baby?" Veronica asked, not exactly sure what she wanted to hear.
Keith was silent for a moment and Veronica thought she knew exactly what he was going to say. Lianne had left the baby behind. But Veronica was wrong.
“The baby’s gone, too.”
She was reading her English assignment when her mom walked into the room. "I've got your laundry," she announced.
"Put in on my dresser," Marlie replied, not taking her eyes off of her book. She waited for her mom to leave. It didn't happen.
"Do I look like your personal slave?" asked Veronica.
"Dad's offered to hire a maid," Marlie replied. A moment later her mom dumped all of the clothing on top of Marlie's book, forcing Marlie to glare at her.
"A simple 'thank you' would suffice," Veronica told her.
"Thank you," Marlie said, gritting her teeth. Her mom was officially 'off-duty' from the FBI and had been told, to her great annoyance, that she could not return to work until the baby was born. As far as Marlie could tell, her mother was doing her best to blow off steam by spending her free time torturing Marlie.
She brushed aside the clothing and focused on her book again. Her mom didn't move an inch. Slowly, realizing her mother would not stand to be ignored, Marlie looked up. "Is there something you want?" she asked.
"How was school today?" Veronica asked.
"Fine," Marlie answered. Did her mom want to make peace? Well, it wasn't that easy.
"Did your biology test go well? You had one today, didn't you?"
"It's tomorrow."
Veronica nodded. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
Sighing, Veronica turned to leave. Marlie looked back at her book. There. That served her mother right. But a moment later Veronica was facing her again. "I found something in the attic," Veronica told her.
"That's nice," Marlie replied, focusing her eyes on page 227 and not letting them wander.
"It's a dress. Your dress . . . from when you were little, only two and a half, actually." Marlie didn't say anything, but Veronica forged on ahead. "Alicia made it for you. You wore it to a Hearst party."
Marlie frowned and looked at her mother, confused. "I went to a Hearst party when I was two and a half years old?"
Veronica smiled. "You didn't stay long. It was one of the last parties of my senior year. Between you and classes, I hadn't been to any parties for a long, long time. Your aunt Mac insisted I go to this one. But Logan was visiting your aunt Trina in LA after her car accident and your grandpa was chasing a bail jumper. There was no one to babysit."
"So you just took me to a college party?" Marlie asked in disbelief.
"We didn't really have to, actually; Alicia probably would have watched you," Veronica admitted. "But once we got the idea into our heads . . . Alicia had just made you the dress a few days ago and. . . . We did our hair and make-up and I even curled your hair and . . . and the three of us went to a party. People stared at you like nobodies business."
"Wow," Marlie said. Her mom had taken a baby to a college party. No. That wasn't right. Some strange woman had taken a baby to a college party. Not Veronica Echolls. Had Veronica Echolls met the strange woman? "That's kind of crazy, you know."
"Your dad said the same thing when he got home. 'Did you buy her a beer, too?' he asked. But I . . . I had fun. It was probably more fun getting ready and then seeing everybody's expression when Mac and I walked into a party with a baby in between us than anything else, but. . . ."
Marlie imagined the scene and found herself smiling.
"And I was . . .," Veronica went on, slightly hesitant, "I mean, I didn't mind people staring because I was . . . proud of you."
"I was two and a half years old," Marlie said softly.
"I've always been proud of you," Veronica replied, her voice just as soft. She had come closer during their conversation and she reached out now, tucking a lock of Marlie's hair behind her ear. "You're so smart and tough and . . . and I do love you, you know.
"You know that, don't you? That I love you?"
"I know," Marlie answered, smiling at her mom. "I love you, too."
Veronica gave a warm smile then, and she looked at Marlie with the very same gleam in her eyes as when Marlie had been in her second grade school play and Veronica had assured her afterward that Marlie, dressed as asparagus with cheese on top, had been the best part of the play.
"I'm washing the dress now," she said. "I'll show it to you later, if you want."
Marlie nodded and, still smiling, her mother left the room.
It didn't occur to Marlie until after her mother was gone that that while her mother was being so open Marlie should have asked about Lianne, should have tried to get more information. She shouldn't have so easily folded under her mother's affection.
But for the first time in weeks, Lianne hadn't been on her mind.
At dinner that night, Marlie said she wouldn't be at dinner the next night because she was going to dinner with Lianne. She was trying to be honest. The last two times she had met with Lianne, she had done so without telling her parents; (though she was sure they knew nonetheless). Maybe she could reach an understanding with them and. . . .
"I assume we'll be footing the bill?" her mother asked.
Her father changed the subject, asking Jason about basketball practice.
And her mom didn't say another word to Marlie for the rest of the meal.
It turned out that Lianne had named Marlie after her grandmother, Marlene Reynolds. Lianne loved music, but she couldn't sing or dance to save her life, or at least, she said she couldn't. She loved the beach and hated the cold. She always called Marlie by her full name. It was weird at first; before then, Marlie had only ever been called Marlene when she was being yelled at. She had gotten used to it, though.
And she thought she was really getting to know Lianne. It seemed that was an unforgivable transgression in Veronica's eyes, and it was as if that conversation with her mother had never taken place. But her parents couldn't expect Marlie to ignore Lianne; she liked the older woman, and more and more often, as she ate silent dinners with her parents, avoided her mother's conversation like the plague and steadfastly ignored her father's burning stares, she wondered what her life would have been like if Lianne had never left.
The fifth time she was to spend time with Lianne it was for ice cream after school. Her car in the shop for an annual check-up, Marlie had gotten a ride that day from her dad, and she called Lianne to tell her that she would need to be picked up. It had been strange, driving along in Lianne's old truck, but it had been kind of nice, too. She had gotten chocolate ice cream.
Everything went wrong when Lianne dropped her off at home.
Marlie didn't know why she did it, but she couldn't help herself. "Do you want to come in for a minute?" she offered. Lianne was taken aback.
"I don't think that's such a good idea. . . ."
"Why not?" Marlie asked, knowing exactly what Lianne would say.
"Your mother. . . ."
"I don't care what my mother wants or doesn't want," Marlie replied rebelliously. "It's my house, too. And I'm inviting you in." Lianne was still hesitant, but with a little prodding she finally agreed. The house was cool and silent when they entered.
"I guess no one's home," Lianne observed. Marlie shrugged.
"Do you want something to drink?" she asked.
Before Lianne could answer, the sound of the front door opening could be heard and loud voices floated into the room. "Anybody home?" Logan called out.
"Be down in a second!" Veronica yelled from upstairs.
"I guess she is home," Lianne whispered, her eyes wide and almost fearful.
"It doesn't matter," Marlie assured.
Ben raced into the room right after that. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of them. "Hi," he said, his big eyes taking in the sight of an older woman he'd never met standing in the kitchen with his big sister.
"This is my little brother Ben," Marlie introduced. It was always strange referring to her brothers or father or mother as such in front of Lianne. And she had so far entirely avoided the issue of what to call Lianne. "Ben, this is Lianne."
"Hi Ben," Lianne greeted softly.
"Hi," Ben repeated. Logan appeared in the kitchen then.
"I thought you were dying of thirst," Logan said, flipping through the mail and not noticing who else was in the room besides Ben.
"He got side-tracked," Marlie said. Logan looked up from the mail.
"I didn't know you were here; you said you were going over to Amy's house. . . ." His voice wasn't accusatory but it faded away when he caught sight of Lianne. Ben glanced back and forth between his father and Lianne, obviously confused again. Marlie felt a little bad for him; she hadn't been the best big sister lately, and the poor kid was only five years old.
"Hi Logan," Lianne breathed.
Logan didn't reply and Lianne turned slightly pink under his stare.
"I just invited Lianne in for a drink, Dad," Marlie said.
"I see," Logan answered, his voice curt. Marlie felt her stomach drop. Of course she shouldn't expect any better reception for Lianne from her father than from her mother. After all, the man had married Veronica, hadn't he? That had to mean he wasn't the best of people. But was it so wrong of her to wish that the father she so loved but who she hadn't been able to talk with properly for weeks would get along with her mom, her real mom, who she was just starting to get to know?
Right on cue, Veronica entered the room. "How was school?" she asked Ben kindly. Ben's eyes lit up at the question, but before he could answer, Lianne let out a gasp.
"You're pregnant!" she said, her eyes staring at Veronica's stomach, which looked particularly large compared to how tiny Veronica was.
"You're in my house," Veronica replied, her eyes flashing. "What are you doing here?" Lianne took a step back, as though afraid Veronica would attack her.
"I invited her here!" Marlie immediately defended. "It's my house, too, and I have every right to invite her here!"
"You live here, kid, but I'm the one paying for this house, not you," Veronica told her.
"Veronica, I didn't mean to cause any trouble," Lianne began.
"All you do is cause trouble, Lianne," Veronica snapped. Lianne winced at the sound of her name coming so harshly out of Veronica's mouth, and fury flared up within Marlie.
"Don't talk to her that way!" she yelled.
"I think it's time for you to go upstairs, Ben," Logan interrupted.
"But Daddy. . . ."
Logan didn't listen to his small protests; he only scooped him up and disappeared out of the room with him. Veronica didn't miss a beat. "It's time for you to leave, Lianne."
"No! She doesn't have to leave! Why do you treat her that way?"
"It's no problem, Marlene, really," Lianne told her.
"Yes, it is," Marlie replied, almost pleading with Lianne to believe her. "She's your daughter and she owes you more than that.
"You're one to speak!" Veronica said, her face contorted. "And you know that? You're grounded. You go from home to school to home again and there will be no more clandestine meetings with Lianne. Now go to your room. This conversation is over."
Marlie exploded. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!"
"Actually I have every right, Marlie, and —!”
"You're not even my real mother!" Marlie snarled. "You're not!"
"Guess what, kid? Legally, I am! Which means I say where you go and who you spend your time with. You answer to me. Now go to your room."
"I hate you!" Marlie screamed. "All you ever do is try and control me and you don't even like me! You didn't even want kids!" At some point Lianne had slipped from the room and left, but Marlie didn't even care anymore. She was too blinded with rage.
"Then why did I adopt you?" Veronica asked. "If I hate kids so much and never wanted them, why did I adopt you?"
"Because you wanted to ruin my life!" Marie cried.
"Oh, that's very mature, Marlie, really. You’re certainly going to take the world by storm with that attitude! I know you think you're some sort of victim, but I gave you everything! I sacrificed my life to take care of you, to give you a better life, and you're still not happy! I'm tired of that! And as long as you're under my roof, then you're going to follow my rules, do you hear? If I have to tell you one more time to go to your room, you're not just grounded for a month; you're grounded until your hair turns gray!"
Marlene stared at her for a moment. She stared at her fiery blue eyes and furious face. She had never hated her mother more. And she couldn't stand to talk to her for a minute longer; she couldn't stand to even be in the same house as her for another moment. So she turned away, walking right out of the house.
Veronica followed.
"You can't keep running away, Marlie! It doesn't work that way!" Veronica yelled.
"WATCH ME!" Marlie yelled back.
She saw from the corner of her eye when her father appeared at the door next to her mother. But she was too far away to hear what they said, and she didn't care. She could think of only one place she could stand to be at this point, and this time, it wasn't the house of one of her mother's minions.
"Where do you think she's off to now?" asked Logan.
"Lianne's," Veronica answered. There was a pregnant pause before she mumbled softly, her eyes staring at Marlie’s retreating figure, "I hate that she. . . ."
"That she what?"
"That she's just like me."
It was Lianne who made the offer.
Marlie had fled to Lianne’s house and ending up spending the rest of the evening and even the night. This time, though, her mom didn’t call. A part of Marlie wished she would. Did her mom really hate Lianne so much that she wouldn’t even call to make sure her daughter was okay?
“This is nice,” Marlie told Lianne, sitting and sipping hot chocolate with Lianne in the living room. The TV was on softly in the background, and Marlie felt more comfortable and at home with Lianne at that moment then she had felt at her house with Logan and Veronica for weeks.
“It is,” Lianne replied, giving a small smile and taking a sip out of her own mug. And then, so timidly she couldn’t even look at Marlie, she made the suggestion. “You can always stay over her more often.”
“What?”
“I mean, if you wanted, you could come and . . . live here with me. I’d love to have you.”
Marlie was too shocked to answer.
But as she lay in a foreign bed that night, the idea began to take root in her mind.
A/N: I know this chapter was shorter than the others, but that's just how it all worked out. The next chapter should be up soon! : )
Title: Truth Be Told
Author: monroeslittle
Genre: Veronica Mars
Rating: Teen (for later implications and such)
Summary: Marlie Echolls has as many doubts as any other sixteen-year-old girl. One thing she never doubted, however, was who her parents were. At least she didn't until a woman knocked on her grandfather's door and dropped the bombshell. Logan/Veronica; future fic.
Marlie met her at a diner.
It seemed like a cliche, but what was so wrong with that?
It had taken her two weeks to gather the guts to call her mother. It wasn't that she was afraid calling her biological mother was a mistake; she knew she had to do it. She had to have at least a single conversation with Lianne. But it wasn't easy making contact.
The conversation had been brief. "Hello?" Lianne had asked. Marlie had been struck silent for a moment. "Hello?" Lianne repeated. "Is anyone there?"
"It's Marlie," Marlie had finally breathed. "Marlene, I mean. Your daughter."
There had been a brief pause, then, and Marlie had been sure her mother could hear her heart racing over the phone. "Hi, Marlene," Lianne had greeted. "I . . . I'm glad you called."
The conversation had been full of a breathless pauses and slow, timid words, but before long Lianne had asked Marlie if she would like to meet her for lunch. Marlie had agreed. She hadn't told her parents. She had called Lianne while at school and she met her on a Saturday when her parents thought she was at her friend Kim's house.
The diner was one on the outskirts of town that was well-known but not often frequented because of its "cheap" feel. Still, Marlie had always sort of like it, and it seemed Lianne didn't mind a "cheap" venue. Lianne had been waiting in a booth when Marlie arrived, and the older woman had been nervously flattening her hair when Marlie had approached her.
"Hi," Marlie said timidly.
"Oh! Hi!" Lianne let out a nervous chuckle. "There you are." She smiled. There was silence. "Do you . . . do you want to have a seat?"
"Yeah, ah, yeah, of course," Marlie answered, blushing slightly as she slid into the booth. There was already a glass of coke in front of Lianne. "Have you been waiting long?" she asked, not able to come up with much more to say.
Lianne shook her head quickly. "Not at all. I got here a little early because I was so . . . excited to see you." Marlie felt a little prickle of warmth at those words. But this woman had left her; she wasn't naive enough to think there was a good excuse for that. She was back, though, she had come back, and she had wanted to know Marlie. . . .
The lunch was awkward at first as they asked one another stupid little questions like, "What do you like to do?" and ate their greasy hamburgers. Eventually a soft lull came as they finished up, and Marlie felt she couldn't go any longer without saying anything.
"Why did you come back now?" she asked.
Lianne didn't answer right away. "I made a mistake," she said slowly. "I never should have left you. But I was scared and lonely when you were born, and I knew I couldn't be a good mother to you. At least, I thought I couldn't at the time. So I left. There is nothing in the world I regret more than that, Marlene. I promise you."
Marlie nodded. "So you're back . . . ?"
"To make it up to you. I want to get to know you, Marlene. I want to be a part of your life. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I know I don't deserve it. I realize I long ago lost any chance of being part of Veronica's life. But I still want to be a part of yours. If there was any way you could ever forgive me. . . ."
"I could try," Marlie answered softly. Nervously, Lianne reached forward and grasped Marlie's hand in her own. Her pale hand was soft and warm and not nearly as bony as Veronica's. Marlie stared at their two hands.
"That's all I ask."
It took her a moment to screw up her courage, but finally she asked softly, nervously, “What about my father? My — my biological father, I mean?” Lianne stiffened slightly at the question. “My mom — Veronica — says that she has no idea who he is. That you never told her. But surely you have to know . . . right?”
Lianne glanced away, and her voice came out as a whisper when she said, “I know who he is.” She looked back at Marlie. “Of course I know who he is. I . . . I dated him before I married Keith and then after Keith and I split up, I ended up . . . but he’s not a good man, Marlie. I left him before you were born and went to stay with Keith and Veronica. You deserved better than him. You deserve a father like — like Logan.” She gave a brave smile.
Marlie nodded. She supposed it was the best for which she could hope. Besides, there was something in Lianne’s voice when she spoke, a gleam in her eyes, an indication that she was almost scared. Marlie didn’t understand, but she’d get the full story eventually.
She left a few minutes later. When she arrived home, it was to discover that her parents had known where she really was. Of course they had. Her dad asked her how lunch was and what she and Lianne had talked about. Marlie told him it was none of his business. Her mother had been watching TV when Marlie entered the room, and she didn't let her eyes travel a centimeter from the screen the entire time.
She decided she would go see Lianne again for lunch.
The baby was born at three in the morning after hours and hours of labor. Lianne wasn't too old, but she was certainly past the safest age for giving birth, and there had been some concern. The baby had been born without too much trouble, however, and in good health.
Veronica went to the hospital with Keith. She couldn't not. She hadn't gone into to see Lianne yet, but she had seen the baby, seen her little sister. She was starting at her right at that moment. Veronica had never had much experience with babies. And now she was staring at the tiny seven pounds and thirteen ounces of her own flesh and blood, so small and pink.
Her sister lay among rows of other babies, but Veronica had no time for any of them. She stared at her sister intently. What would life be like for that innocent little girl? How would it be to have only Lianne for family? Veronica was her family, too, but if Veronica became a part of her life then she would have to become a part of Lianne's life, and Veronica wasn't sure she could handle that.
"Would you like to hold her?" a nurse asked. Why did they always ask that?
"She's my sister," Veronica said, not sure why. "My half-sister." The nurse nodded kindly.
"You can hold her if you want," the older woman told her softly. Veronica didn't reply. "Do you want to?"
Slowly, Veronica nodded. "Sure," she murmured. She watched as the nurse went in and picked up her sister, who squirmed slightly, and the next thing Veronica knew, she was holding the small baby. The small tag on the little foot read "Mars."
"Are you a Mars?" Veronica whispered to the small baby. Big blue eyes looked up at her. Her sister had her eyes. She stared down at the baby, silent.
"She looks like you," the nurse said, and when Veronica glanced at her, the woman was smiling.
"Yeah," Veronica said absentmindedly. The baby's tiny eyelids closed. Veronica impulsively hugged her closer. Her revere was broken by the beep of her watch. Unable to glance at her wrist with a baby in her arms, she glanced at the clock on the hospital wall.
It was exactly seven in the morning. Veronica started to look back down at her sister only for her eyes to catch on Lianne, standing at the end of the hall watching Veronica. Lianne seemed startled when Veronica caught her eyes, but after a moment the older woman came towards her.
"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?" Lianne asked.
"She's a baby. She looks like a baby," Veronica answered. She gazed down at her small sister. Weren't babies supposed to cry more? Maybe her sister wasn't big on crying. That was probably a good thing.
"She looks a lot like you," Lianne told her. "Just like you, really. I've named her Marlene. I haven't thought of a middle name, though. You — you can pick one, if you want." Veronica didn't say anything.
"Who's her father, Lianne?" Veronica finally asked. "You have to know." She hadn’t brought the question up at all in the past months, but she had to know now. She had to.
"It doesn't matter," Lianne whispered. "He isn't going to be a part of her life." There was a small pause. "Are you going to be a part of her life?" Lianne asked. Veronica didn't answer her. “I guess that’s a no,” Lianne whispered.
“My dad looked into it, you know,” Veronica told her, ignoring the question entirely.
“Into what?” Lianne frowned.
“Into the father,” answered Veronica, her voice steely. But she didn’t look at Lianne. She refused. “He won’t tell me anything, though. I know he knows something but —”
"Veronica?"
Both Veronica and Lianne looked up at the sound of her name, and Veronica wasn't sure what to feel when she saw Logan coming towards them. What was he doing here at seven in the morning, anyway?
"Is that . . . ?"
"My sister," Veronica answered him. "She came a few hours ago."
"Oh," Logan said softly. "She's small."
"Babies generally are." His eyes flittered briefly to Lianne, standing and watching their exchange in silence, but he said nothing to her.
"She's, ah, cute, I guess, too," he offered. Veronica couldn't help but smile at him.
"How have you been?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Dick drank a little too much last night. Had to have his stomach pumped. That's what I'm doing here. He's the one constant in my life and he's getting his stomach pumped. Great, right?" Logan shook his head sadly. Veronica felt a twinge in her stomach.
"He's not the one constant. I'm in your life, too."
Logan didn't say anything, but when he glanced at the ground, Veronica saw the slightest curve of a smile in his face. She wondered if she would ever really get over Logan. Something about him brought out the worst in her, brought out the nastiness and bitterness, but at the same time, there were times with him when she was just so happy and. . . .
"I'm going to get some sleep," Lianne murmured.
Veronica only nodded in reply, looking back down at her sister. She really was small. It was hard to imagine her growing up and into her own person. What would she be like? Would she be anything like Veronica? Would she like the same things as Veronica?
"Hey, are you okay?" Logan asked, his voice especially soft.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean with your mom and everything. A lot's been going on," he said. Veronica looked up at him and, oh so automatically, he reached out and brushed his knuckles affectionately across the side of her face.
"I'm dealing with it," she sighed.
"You always do."
They talked about mundane things, then, about their classes and what Wallace had done in Africa and how her internship with the F.B.I. had been and the latest show Trina had just been killed off of. All the while Veronica held the small baby in her arms, letting the little girl fall asleep.
Eventually she gave the child back to the nurse and let Logan talk her into getting a cup of coffee from the cafeteria. The coffee was terrible. The company wasn't so bad, though. She really had missed him. It was impossible not to. He had been such a big part of her life for so long, and he certainly had a vivid personality.
It was nearing eleven in the morning when her father found them. She was slightly disappointed: who knew when she and Logan would get a chance to talk again? All disappointment disappeared, however, on sight of the panicked look her father possessed.
"What's wrong?" she immediately asked.
"Have you seen your mom?" Keith asked.
"I saw her a few hours ago . . . why?"
"Because she left. She checked out of the hospital.”
“Already?” asked Veronica, a small alarm going off in her head.
"Did she go back to your house?" Logan asked.
"Alicia was just leaving her house to go to work. I had her stop by the house. She said no one's there, but Lianne's things are gone." Veronica couldn't believe it. Had her mom really just left . . . again?
"And the baby?" Veronica asked, not exactly sure what she wanted to hear.
Keith was silent for a moment and Veronica thought she knew exactly what he was going to say. Lianne had left the baby behind. But Veronica was wrong.
“The baby’s gone, too.”
She was reading her English assignment when her mom walked into the room. "I've got your laundry," she announced.
"Put in on my dresser," Marlie replied, not taking her eyes off of her book. She waited for her mom to leave. It didn't happen.
"Do I look like your personal slave?" asked Veronica.
"Dad's offered to hire a maid," Marlie replied. A moment later her mom dumped all of the clothing on top of Marlie's book, forcing Marlie to glare at her.
"A simple 'thank you' would suffice," Veronica told her.
"Thank you," Marlie said, gritting her teeth. Her mom was officially 'off-duty' from the FBI and had been told, to her great annoyance, that she could not return to work until the baby was born. As far as Marlie could tell, her mother was doing her best to blow off steam by spending her free time torturing Marlie.
She brushed aside the clothing and focused on her book again. Her mom didn't move an inch. Slowly, realizing her mother would not stand to be ignored, Marlie looked up. "Is there something you want?" she asked.
"How was school today?" Veronica asked.
"Fine," Marlie answered. Did her mom want to make peace? Well, it wasn't that easy.
"Did your biology test go well? You had one today, didn't you?"
"It's tomorrow."
Veronica nodded. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
Sighing, Veronica turned to leave. Marlie looked back at her book. There. That served her mother right. But a moment later Veronica was facing her again. "I found something in the attic," Veronica told her.
"That's nice," Marlie replied, focusing her eyes on page 227 and not letting them wander.
"It's a dress. Your dress . . . from when you were little, only two and a half, actually." Marlie didn't say anything, but Veronica forged on ahead. "Alicia made it for you. You wore it to a Hearst party."
Marlie frowned and looked at her mother, confused. "I went to a Hearst party when I was two and a half years old?"
Veronica smiled. "You didn't stay long. It was one of the last parties of my senior year. Between you and classes, I hadn't been to any parties for a long, long time. Your aunt Mac insisted I go to this one. But Logan was visiting your aunt Trina in LA after her car accident and your grandpa was chasing a bail jumper. There was no one to babysit."
"So you just took me to a college party?" Marlie asked in disbelief.
"We didn't really have to, actually; Alicia probably would have watched you," Veronica admitted. "But once we got the idea into our heads . . . Alicia had just made you the dress a few days ago and. . . . We did our hair and make-up and I even curled your hair and . . . and the three of us went to a party. People stared at you like nobodies business."
"Wow," Marlie said. Her mom had taken a baby to a college party. No. That wasn't right. Some strange woman had taken a baby to a college party. Not Veronica Echolls. Had Veronica Echolls met the strange woman? "That's kind of crazy, you know."
"Your dad said the same thing when he got home. 'Did you buy her a beer, too?' he asked. But I . . . I had fun. It was probably more fun getting ready and then seeing everybody's expression when Mac and I walked into a party with a baby in between us than anything else, but. . . ."
Marlie imagined the scene and found herself smiling.
"And I was . . .," Veronica went on, slightly hesitant, "I mean, I didn't mind people staring because I was . . . proud of you."
"I was two and a half years old," Marlie said softly.
"I've always been proud of you," Veronica replied, her voice just as soft. She had come closer during their conversation and she reached out now, tucking a lock of Marlie's hair behind her ear. "You're so smart and tough and . . . and I do love you, you know.
"You know that, don't you? That I love you?"
"I know," Marlie answered, smiling at her mom. "I love you, too."
Veronica gave a warm smile then, and she looked at Marlie with the very same gleam in her eyes as when Marlie had been in her second grade school play and Veronica had assured her afterward that Marlie, dressed as asparagus with cheese on top, had been the best part of the play.
"I'm washing the dress now," she said. "I'll show it to you later, if you want."
Marlie nodded and, still smiling, her mother left the room.
It didn't occur to Marlie until after her mother was gone that that while her mother was being so open Marlie should have asked about Lianne, should have tried to get more information. She shouldn't have so easily folded under her mother's affection.
But for the first time in weeks, Lianne hadn't been on her mind.
At dinner that night, Marlie said she wouldn't be at dinner the next night because she was going to dinner with Lianne. She was trying to be honest. The last two times she had met with Lianne, she had done so without telling her parents; (though she was sure they knew nonetheless). Maybe she could reach an understanding with them and. . . .
"I assume we'll be footing the bill?" her mother asked.
Her father changed the subject, asking Jason about basketball practice.
And her mom didn't say another word to Marlie for the rest of the meal.
It turned out that Lianne had named Marlie after her grandmother, Marlene Reynolds. Lianne loved music, but she couldn't sing or dance to save her life, or at least, she said she couldn't. She loved the beach and hated the cold. She always called Marlie by her full name. It was weird at first; before then, Marlie had only ever been called Marlene when she was being yelled at. She had gotten used to it, though.
And she thought she was really getting to know Lianne. It seemed that was an unforgivable transgression in Veronica's eyes, and it was as if that conversation with her mother had never taken place. But her parents couldn't expect Marlie to ignore Lianne; she liked the older woman, and more and more often, as she ate silent dinners with her parents, avoided her mother's conversation like the plague and steadfastly ignored her father's burning stares, she wondered what her life would have been like if Lianne had never left.
The fifth time she was to spend time with Lianne it was for ice cream after school. Her car in the shop for an annual check-up, Marlie had gotten a ride that day from her dad, and she called Lianne to tell her that she would need to be picked up. It had been strange, driving along in Lianne's old truck, but it had been kind of nice, too. She had gotten chocolate ice cream.
Everything went wrong when Lianne dropped her off at home.
Marlie didn't know why she did it, but she couldn't help herself. "Do you want to come in for a minute?" she offered. Lianne was taken aback.
"I don't think that's such a good idea. . . ."
"Why not?" Marlie asked, knowing exactly what Lianne would say.
"Your mother. . . ."
"I don't care what my mother wants or doesn't want," Marlie replied rebelliously. "It's my house, too. And I'm inviting you in." Lianne was still hesitant, but with a little prodding she finally agreed. The house was cool and silent when they entered.
"I guess no one's home," Lianne observed. Marlie shrugged.
"Do you want something to drink?" she asked.
Before Lianne could answer, the sound of the front door opening could be heard and loud voices floated into the room. "Anybody home?" Logan called out.
"Be down in a second!" Veronica yelled from upstairs.
"I guess she is home," Lianne whispered, her eyes wide and almost fearful.
"It doesn't matter," Marlie assured.
Ben raced into the room right after that. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of them. "Hi," he said, his big eyes taking in the sight of an older woman he'd never met standing in the kitchen with his big sister.
"This is my little brother Ben," Marlie introduced. It was always strange referring to her brothers or father or mother as such in front of Lianne. And she had so far entirely avoided the issue of what to call Lianne. "Ben, this is Lianne."
"Hi Ben," Lianne greeted softly.
"Hi," Ben repeated. Logan appeared in the kitchen then.
"I thought you were dying of thirst," Logan said, flipping through the mail and not noticing who else was in the room besides Ben.
"He got side-tracked," Marlie said. Logan looked up from the mail.
"I didn't know you were here; you said you were going over to Amy's house. . . ." His voice wasn't accusatory but it faded away when he caught sight of Lianne. Ben glanced back and forth between his father and Lianne, obviously confused again. Marlie felt a little bad for him; she hadn't been the best big sister lately, and the poor kid was only five years old.
"Hi Logan," Lianne breathed.
Logan didn't reply and Lianne turned slightly pink under his stare.
"I just invited Lianne in for a drink, Dad," Marlie said.
"I see," Logan answered, his voice curt. Marlie felt her stomach drop. Of course she shouldn't expect any better reception for Lianne from her father than from her mother. After all, the man had married Veronica, hadn't he? That had to mean he wasn't the best of people. But was it so wrong of her to wish that the father she so loved but who she hadn't been able to talk with properly for weeks would get along with her mom, her real mom, who she was just starting to get to know?
Right on cue, Veronica entered the room. "How was school?" she asked Ben kindly. Ben's eyes lit up at the question, but before he could answer, Lianne let out a gasp.
"You're pregnant!" she said, her eyes staring at Veronica's stomach, which looked particularly large compared to how tiny Veronica was.
"You're in my house," Veronica replied, her eyes flashing. "What are you doing here?" Lianne took a step back, as though afraid Veronica would attack her.
"I invited her here!" Marlie immediately defended. "It's my house, too, and I have every right to invite her here!"
"You live here, kid, but I'm the one paying for this house, not you," Veronica told her.
"Veronica, I didn't mean to cause any trouble," Lianne began.
"All you do is cause trouble, Lianne," Veronica snapped. Lianne winced at the sound of her name coming so harshly out of Veronica's mouth, and fury flared up within Marlie.
"Don't talk to her that way!" she yelled.
"I think it's time for you to go upstairs, Ben," Logan interrupted.
"But Daddy. . . ."
Logan didn't listen to his small protests; he only scooped him up and disappeared out of the room with him. Veronica didn't miss a beat. "It's time for you to leave, Lianne."
"No! She doesn't have to leave! Why do you treat her that way?"
"It's no problem, Marlene, really," Lianne told her.
"Yes, it is," Marlie replied, almost pleading with Lianne to believe her. "She's your daughter and she owes you more than that.
"You're one to speak!" Veronica said, her face contorted. "And you know that? You're grounded. You go from home to school to home again and there will be no more clandestine meetings with Lianne. Now go to your room. This conversation is over."
Marlie exploded. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!"
"Actually I have every right, Marlie, and —!”
"You're not even my real mother!" Marlie snarled. "You're not!"
"Guess what, kid? Legally, I am! Which means I say where you go and who you spend your time with. You answer to me. Now go to your room."
"I hate you!" Marlie screamed. "All you ever do is try and control me and you don't even like me! You didn't even want kids!" At some point Lianne had slipped from the room and left, but Marlie didn't even care anymore. She was too blinded with rage.
"Then why did I adopt you?" Veronica asked. "If I hate kids so much and never wanted them, why did I adopt you?"
"Because you wanted to ruin my life!" Marie cried.
"Oh, that's very mature, Marlie, really. You’re certainly going to take the world by storm with that attitude! I know you think you're some sort of victim, but I gave you everything! I sacrificed my life to take care of you, to give you a better life, and you're still not happy! I'm tired of that! And as long as you're under my roof, then you're going to follow my rules, do you hear? If I have to tell you one more time to go to your room, you're not just grounded for a month; you're grounded until your hair turns gray!"
Marlene stared at her for a moment. She stared at her fiery blue eyes and furious face. She had never hated her mother more. And she couldn't stand to talk to her for a minute longer; she couldn't stand to even be in the same house as her for another moment. So she turned away, walking right out of the house.
Veronica followed.
"You can't keep running away, Marlie! It doesn't work that way!" Veronica yelled.
"WATCH ME!" Marlie yelled back.
She saw from the corner of her eye when her father appeared at the door next to her mother. But she was too far away to hear what they said, and she didn't care. She could think of only one place she could stand to be at this point, and this time, it wasn't the house of one of her mother's minions.
"Where do you think she's off to now?" asked Logan.
"Lianne's," Veronica answered. There was a pregnant pause before she mumbled softly, her eyes staring at Marlie’s retreating figure, "I hate that she. . . ."
"That she what?"
"That she's just like me."
It was Lianne who made the offer.
Marlie had fled to Lianne’s house and ending up spending the rest of the evening and even the night. This time, though, her mom didn’t call. A part of Marlie wished she would. Did her mom really hate Lianne so much that she wouldn’t even call to make sure her daughter was okay?
“This is nice,” Marlie told Lianne, sitting and sipping hot chocolate with Lianne in the living room. The TV was on softly in the background, and Marlie felt more comfortable and at home with Lianne at that moment then she had felt at her house with Logan and Veronica for weeks.
“It is,” Lianne replied, giving a small smile and taking a sip out of her own mug. And then, so timidly she couldn’t even look at Marlie, she made the suggestion. “You can always stay over her more often.”
“What?”
“I mean, if you wanted, you could come and . . . live here with me. I’d love to have you.”
Marlie was too shocked to answer.
But as she lay in a foreign bed that night, the idea began to take root in her mind.
A/N: I know this chapter was shorter than the others, but that's just how it all worked out. The next chapter should be up soon! : )
