Mr. Whitlock

10 - Opening Up

Marie thought about what Mr. Whitlock had said, and upon seeing him again she knew what she wanted to talk about.

"How can I forgive my mother." She spoke it more as a statement than a question, staring right into his deep brown eyes. He considered what to say, surprised she would ask him such a thing.

"You're only given one life, Marie. One chance. Why spend your days full of spite or resentment, why wish away something you will never be able to change? Acceptance is difficult, but it is the first step to forgiveness. Remember the mistakes she made, understand why she did what she did, and you will eventually be able to move on." He said. Marie wondered how he managed to say all the right things, and realized that he had had quite a long time to think of that answer.

"I suppose I know why my mother is the way she is. Nearly everything about her is a result of her own complicated and challenging life. She was born into a family where her father was constantly away at work, and her mother was far too reserved to give her the attention she always hoped for. She learned that in order for her parents or her older sister to pay any mind to her, she had to be obnoxious. And everyone around her was too sweet to tell her to stop.

"My mother was energetic from the day she was born, but her personality only got stronger amidst a terribly quiet family. She felt that none of them cared for her, and that the only way to get their sympathy was by manipulating. 

"Of course this all happened subconsciously, and if anyone were to tell her this she would likely be appalled. My mother has good intentions, but the way she handles situations are extremely problematic. She cuts people off if they dare to give her one wrong look, she pretends the world revolves around her to try to make it true, and she shows her love in all the wrong ways. She does all of this in hopes of protecting herself, I assume. Yet it never works.

"She only got worse, once my grandmother lost all touch with reality after her husband died, and my father left us. She spiraled into a far worse version of her already unhealthy cycle, wondering why she was cursed with a deranged mother, a lazy husband, and two needy children.

"I cannot blame her for her circumstances, but that does not justify her cruel actions. If she truly loves me, why can't she accept me? If she truly cares for me, why can't she let me be? Is she too afraid that I will leave her? For her manipulation only pushes me further away. And she doesn't even realize how negatively she has affected my entire life." Marie looked up to see Mr. Whitlock, as she had nearly forgotten he was there. Her words spilled out faster than she could stop them, as she spoke of thoughts she didn't even realize she had.

It all made sense. Why Anne was the way she was. She let out a dry laugh as she wondered why it seemed her entire family was so psychologically complicated. From her great-grandparents Anamarie and Alistair, to Charlotte, to Anne, and even herself.

Was everyone's minds and pasts so difficult to understand? And if so, why had she never realized?

"Have you ever told your mother how you feel?" Mr. Whitlock asked.

"No," she softly replied, "Aside from small comments as a teenager, that she simply blamed on my 'sharp tongue'. I doubt she would listen if I told her, and even if she did I'm not sure it would help. She hasn't taken my concerns seriously in the past, and I've learned avoiding conflict is the best option."

"I see." His gaze fell to the floor, "Tell her some day, though. Before it is too late."

"I will." Marie's mind wandered to the memories of what Eve had once told her when they were teenagers. That their mother was just as human as they were, and that she was no less deserving of their love. And lastly, that loving their mother did not mean they had to agree with her ways.

"From that which I have seen, I would say that you, Marie, are an extraordinary woman." His handsome eyes gleamed with admiration and respect.

"You are too kind, Mr. Whitlock. Whatever you see in me is the person I aspire to be, but nothing near who I am now." She shook her head, and although she didn't believe what he said, a flattered smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"My truest apologies if my words come across as imposing, or make you in the slightest bit uncomfortable. But any woman that I have any recollection of meeting is nothing near the intelligent, sincere, beautiful person who I have the pleasure of talking with now. I'm not sure why you continue to speak with me, and why you care for me. I will forever be grateful for the enjoyable moments we have spent together. Hearing someone like you talk, so interesting and curious, is all I have hoped for in all my years here."

What he said surprised Marie, and perhaps anyone else would have been concerned by how much he had said. But knowing all they had talked about, and knowing the few important things about him that she did, she was only delighted. Her chest lifted as she heard the words which no man had ever spoken to her.

"Thank you. I may not understand your unbelievable situation, but I hope you know the compassion I feel in my heart. If there is something I could do to help you, I would do it. No person deserves being isolated for seventy years. It is torture, a fate which you dreadfully cannot escape. And that breaks my heart more than you could know." At that moment she realized the weight of the truth. That whatever she did, it would not help. He would never have a life outside of that old house. And eventually Marie would die, leaving him just as alone as he once was.

"I do see it. And I appreciate it." He stared at her for some time, as Marie searched his face for a sign of what he would say next. "Would you care to spend dinner with me tomorrow evening?"

Marie's breath caught in her throat.

Was he asking her on a date?

Or simply inviting her to talk?

All she knew was that she had never expected for a ghost to ask her on a date.

But that didn't mean she would refuse.

"Yes, I would love to."