Variation - W.M.

Chapter 27 - November 24, 2016

Over the past few days, it seemed as though my brain was determined to keep me rooted in the thoughts I really didn't want. I switched back and forth between my feelings -or lack thereof-for Wanda and thoughts of my brother, no doubt caused by the increased mention of him and my family over the past weeks.

Because of the privacy I wanted to retain regarding the topics, I avoided Wanda like the plague. I had told her about my parents, but the lock around everything else was stronger and I had no desire to break it. Like I had told her before, there were things not even the Wanda from my timeline knew.

Eventually, though, I could feel my thoughts getting louder; swamping me and pulling me down. I decided that maybe a walk would do me good.

A walk somehow turned into a jog, which somehow turned into a 200 mile trip.

I ended up standing in front of a familiar array of flowers marking a boundary.

Home.

"I guess she didn't know what to do with it either" I whispered, stepping through the bushes and walking to the middle of the vibrant green plot of land before sitting down, my hands running across the top of the blades.

Back where I was from the two headstones in front of me were joined by more, the one on the right marking the resting place of my brother. But here it was only the two.

Christopher James Attwood, died January 19, 2011.

Eleonóra Polák Attwood, died January 19, 2011.

Both were engraved with impersonal additions. Loving parent, amazing spouse, great at their profession. It did nothing to express how much their loss was felt by everyone. By me.

"Excuse me miss, you can't-"

I turned to see a short man with greyed hair, bushy eyebrows raising in surprise when he saw my face. "Olivia?"

I felt tears prick my eyes and I brushed them away. "George."

"Has it really been that long? You look so mature" he exclaimed, and I smiled, making my way out of the plot of land to give him a hug. He never entered the site. Nobody did.

"It's not been that long, it's just stress."

"It's been far too long since we've seen you at least" the man amended, pulling away to look at me face. "How's Oscar? How's New York?"

"Good, both good" I lied, a forced smile keeping the tears at bay. Nothing escaped the man, however, and his mouth turned down.

"What's wrong?"

"Can I be honest with you?" I asked softly, my eyes filling up.

"Of course you can, I've known you since you came home from the hospital."

"I'm not Olivia" I started, taking a deep breath as I watched his face through slightly blurred eyes. "I am, but I'm from another timeline."

I expected a scoff and a dismissal, maybe even a laugh, but the old man simply nodded. "You're older and you have seen much more than the Olivia we know, been through a lot more. That fact is clear by the look in your eyes."

"I'm so-"

"Now don't you dare apologize. It doesn't matter where you are from, you are still our Olivia. I still watched you grow up. You may have gone through different experiences once you left this small town of ours, but you being here shows that your before is the same."

I broke down, sobbing harshly. It was the first time in years that I had let the tears fall, and it was long overdue.

"Come on, I know Helen would love to see you," George said, wrapping a hand around me. He led me to the house next door, opening the door and sitting me down on the old floral couch I had spent nights on when I was young.

George and Helen had been like my grandparents growing up, since my own were dead before I got the chance to know them. We spent holidays with the older couple, and they became the designated babysitter when my parents found me too hard to handle.

They would both die at some point in the coming years, during what would have been the blip. Because of the blip, actually. In my own timeline I had come back only to find that new people had moved in, the older couple's graves next to my family.

I lost another piece of me that day.

"Olivia! Hey baby!" A feminine voice greeted excitedly and I felt my eyes tear up further. I stood up only to be pulled into a hug, the smell of peppermint surrounding me.

"Helen" I breathed, my eyes closing as I let the woman hold me tightly. When she let go it was all too soon. "I've missed you."

"I'm going out on a limb and say that we kick the bucket where you're from" George guessed and I sniffled, nodding a little.

"Complications from a plane crash. It's a long story."

"We have time, come sit down. You look hungry, have you eaten today?"

I shook my head, my stomach grumbling a little at the thought of food. I bit my lip and looked over to Helen. "Do you think you could make your famous mac and cheese?"

"I'd have to run to the store for some noodles and cheese but-" She stopped short when the ingredients seemed to appear in my hands. "Now what the hell did you just do?"

"Ran to the store. Don't worry, I paid for it" I assured them but they both continued to stare as if I had grown two heads. I sighed, gesturing to the table. "Maybe we should talk before the food."