𝗜𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘀 | 𝐁𝗼𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲/𝗥𝗙𝗞

XXXV: "Ghost of Delphine"

[June 17, 1935]

Evelyn Bellamy is seated at the dining table, her legs dangling a slight bit—she's only five. Her chair faces her troubled mother, her father by her right side, sitting in the accustomed patriarchal seat. The girl's vacant eyes are laid on the piece of tough meat on her china. "It must've been days old and reheated many times." She wishes she could ask how old the steak is, but she knows better than asking for a nag from her father.

Maurice's loud chewing fills the room in every corner; he doesn't try to hide it, either; for him, his audible masticate illustrates his position in the house as the reigning patriarch, but for everyone else? It's just a little annoying.

Evelyn can't help but notice the same vein that keeps appearing and disappearing on Maurice's temple whenever he clenches his jaw together. The lanky wrinkles beside his mouth bothered her, too, but she's gotten used to it. Mix those with the brooding stare he has on his plate, you get a man who just lost his job.

"What are you looking at?" Julia, in her tired curiousness, asks. She inhales some fume from her lipstick-stained cigarette. The little girl dismisses her mother's question; she's deeply nettled by the chewing, the vein, the wrinkles, and the stupidity of her father.

"Stop looking at your father like that," The mother sternly warns her daughter, she can already see where this is going. Maurice lifts his sullen eyes from the plate only to see a pair of vengeful green ones glaring at him. "Tu devrais écouter ta mère," He says, immediately averting his sight. Julia hears resentment in her husband's tone, she whispers, "Don't be angry at her." But it's too late; her usual comforting words don't work this time—his hands are already balled into fists. "Do you see how she is looking at me? She's blaming me for everything— from her sister dying, to me losing my goddamn job..." The man isn't screaming or yelling, and somehow that's eerier. "She is five, I don't think she cares." Julia stamps out her cigarette on the nearly spoiled mashed potatoes on her plate.

Maurice dares himself to look at his only daughter again, and there she is, still staring into his soul strenuously. "I didn't kill your sister, if that's what you're thinking," He mutters, more to himself than to his child. "She died from an illness, Evie. You don't fully understand it yet, but you will someday. But I'd like you to stop blaming me now, not someday." Maurice hopes for Evelyn to nod her head and be her normal self again, but deep down, he knows that little girl is gone, she left when her sister died. "Will you stop disturbing her? Hand me your plate," Julia intervenes. She rises from her seat and reaches out for the plates on the table.

Maurice laughs in disbelief, "I miss Delphine as much as you do!" He hates the silent treatment. Evelyn tucks a stray of hair behind her ear and nods to herself in a strange way. "What is that? What are you doing?" Her father's inquisitive side comes to light. "I just needed to hear her name from your mouth. You know it's been six months since you said it?" A warm smile emerges on Evelyn's face. She said what she needed to say, now she'll return to her room—which is significantly smaller than her previous one; they had to move out of their grand old mansion to a three-bedroom apartment in Paris to manage their finances better. Maurice is going to fix this, though; a man by the name of Mr. Joe Kennedy said he was going to do them a solid.

[June 17, 1950]

Evelyn sipped on a glass of red wine as she observed Julia and Maurice. She could see her parents were getting red from all the alcohol, it was embarrassing, to say the least. Though, it reminded her of the time before her family went broke in nineteen thirty-four; the reckless partying, the drinking, the dancing, and the drugs, all of this in their own home. Maybe it was a good thing had Delphine fallen ill, if it wasn't for her, Maurice and Julia would've kept blowing their old money on hedonistic matters.