Chapter 14: A Gift from the Past

Elise barely noticed time passing.

Her father's voice filled her ear, each message a whisper from the past, curling around her like an embrace she hadn't known she'd been missing. Some messages were short—a simple "I miss you, Ellie darling," said in a voice rough with age, yet soft with longing. Others rambled, like he was speaking to her mother as if she were still there, filling her in on the smallest details of his day.

"I finally built that birdhouse I promised Elise when she was younger. You should have seen her face light up!"

"Saw a robin on the porch this morning. You used to love those. Made me think of that time you found a nest when Elise was little. She wanted to take the eggs inside, remember? Took forever to convince her to leave them be."

"The house is quiet today. I miss the noise."

The weight of it all pressed against Elise's chest. She had spent years thinking of him as distant, emotionally unavailable, incapable of expressing love beyond the practical monetary ways he provided for them. In fact, that had been a major source of his disapproval for John—his being unconvinced by his ability to provide for them.

Henry may have softened slightly with age, or maybe after death when Lulu finally met him, but in Elise' memories he was a man of few words, and even fewer expressions of affection. She had accepted it. Adjusted to it. But now, listening to these messages—messages he never expected anyone else to hear—she saw him differently.

He had been talking to someone all along. He just hadn't known how to talk to her.

A choked breath slipped past her lips, and she barely noticed the hot tear sliding down her cheek.

A small voice cut through the quiet.

"Mommy?"

Elise flinched, the sudden sound snapping her out of her trance. She blinked rapidly, as if waking from a dream, and turned to see her daughter standing beside her, tiny brows furrowed in concern.

"Mommy, where does it hurt?"

Elise quickly pulled out the AirPod and wiped at her damp cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater, feeling oddly exposed in a way she didn't wish for her children to see. Her throat felt tight, like she had been holding something in for far too long, but she forced a smile.

"I'm okay, sweetheart," she reassured her, her voice steadier than she expected. "I just… I was remembering your Grandpa."

Her daughter's frown deepened as if weighing the seriousness of that answer. Then, without hesitation, she wrapped her small arms around Elise's waist in a warm hug, squeezing tight—the method that most children tend to think of to comfort those they care about.

For a moment, Elise just held her, pressing a kiss to the top of her daughter's curls, inhaling the familiar scent of her kids' vanilla scented shampoo and something distinctly hers.

"I love you, Mommy," the little girl murmured into her sweater.

Elise's chest ached, but this time, it was a good kind of ache. "I love you too, baby."

Satisfied, her daughter pulled away and ran back toward the kitchen, where it looked like John and her son had taken a break from playing to prepare some snacks. John glanced over his shoulder, catching Elise's gaze, his expression unreadable. He must have noticed her tears, but he didn't make a fuss about it in front of the kids—just gave her a small nod before turning back to the children.

Elise exhaled, rubbing her temples. It had only been a couple of hours, but it felt like she had been listening for days. And yet, there were still so many messages left.

She turned to Lulu, who had been sitting quietly this whole time, scrolling through her phone as if deliberately giving Elise space. A wave of guilt swept over her.

"God, I'm so sorry," Elise said, shaking her head. "I've been a terrible host. You gave me this—this gift, and I've just been sitting here ignoring you."

Lulu waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. It's a lot to take in."

Elise swallowed, glancing at her phone again before setting it down. She still wasn't ready to face all of it—not yet—but she knew she would, eventually.

"I haven't even gotten through most of them yet," she admitted, "but… thank you. I don't know what I could possibly give you in return for something like this."

Lulu shrugged, looking almost uncomfortable with the sentiment. "I didn't do it for a reward."

"I know," Elise said softly. "I'm just… I'm glad that in his final moments, my father had someone around him that cared as much as you do."

Lulu's lips pressed together briefly, her expression unreadable.

'Well, we didn't really meet until after he died… but no reason to disclose that,' she thought, pushing the thought away.

Still, Elise reached into her pocket and pulled out a small business card, pressing it into Lulu's hand. "But if you ever need anything—anything at all—call me."

Lulu glanced down at the card.

Dr. Elise Johnson, M.D.

Oncology Specialist

A slow blink. Then Lulu let out a short, quiet chuckle, shaking her head. "Thanks…?"

The hesitation in her voice was subtle, but Elise caught it. "Something wrong?"

Lulu shook her head, slipping the card into her jacket pocket. "Nope. Thank you so much!"

'No offense, but I kind of hope that I never need help from you…' Lulu thought. Naturally, not because she had anything against Elise, but needing help from an oncologist was kind of like needing help from a criminal defense lawyer—if you did, something had gone terribly wrong.

Elise smiled faintly, walking her to the door. The cool afternoon air drifted in as she opened it, the smell of damp earth and fallen leaves filling the threshold. Lulu stepped outside onto the porch but hesitated, just for a second, before turning back.

"You should listen to all of them," Lulu said. "Maybe not today, maybe not even next week. But don't let them sit there forever."

Elise gripped the doorframe, the weight of the phone still heavy in her pocket.

"I won't," she promised.