𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 & 𝐂𝐥𝐲𝐝𝐞〚BRAHMS HEELSHIRE〛✅

𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓣𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷𝔂

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 21

Evelyn leans against the railing of the door, she watches carefully with her arms crossed. Greta tucks Doll Brahms into his bed, she shares a quick look with Evelyn, afraid that the girl would be judging her but instead, Evelyn smiles at her softly almost as if proud of her. Giving Greta a squeeze of her shoulder of support, Evelyn left and headed to her room to call it a night. Once the nanny sees Evelyn's room door close behind her, she turns off Brahms's room light and stands there for a moment. Under the moonlight, he almost looks like a real little boy to Greta.

A flash of tenderness on Greta's face. She softens and relaxes for the first time since she came here.

The nanny bends down and kisses Doll Brahms lightly on the cheek. Then leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Reaching into the hallway, she turns to walk to her room. Stops. Something suddenly occurred to her. Instead, she took the long route to Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire's bedroom, being subtle and quiet when she had to pass Evelyn's room.

Greta made a beeline to the bedside table, hoping to find anything more about the history of the Heelshire, especially their son Brahms. While scrambling through each drawer, she came to a stop at a letter that wrote will and settlement. It was the same letter Evelyn found when she did her prying but lost interest to check the content. Unlike Evelyn, Greta had a high curiosity in her. She sits down on the bed. Waits a moment. Maybe building up courage. Then pulls out the contents.

'LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT,' written at the top. Lower on the page Greta finds what she was looking for. The typed words 'conservator of the Heelshire estate and fortunes' followed by a blank underlined portion that's been filled in with Mrs. Heelshire's perfect handwriting with two words:

Evelyn Houston.

♡ ⚀ ♧ ⚁ ♢ ⚂ ♤ ⚃ ♡ ⚄ ♧ ⚅ ♢

The rain coming down in sheets.

A small bare cabin the same color as the sand and driftwood surrounding it. Thick fog moves like ghosts across the land. We can just hear the sound of the ocean waves above the rain.

The first page of a letter sits on the table in front of Mrs. Heelshire. She's busy now, writing the second. We pass over the first page, catching snippets here and there, things like: "...can't bear to live with what we allowed you to become," and "Greta is your doll now, and Evelyn is yours to love and care for..." We move across the table to the letter Mrs. Heelshire is finishing the letter. She writes, "May God forgive us all" and then "Love always, Mother."

Mr. Heelshire puts a hand on Mrs. Heelshire's shoulder, "It's time mother." Mrs. Heelshire nods sadly. Stuff the letter into an envelope.

Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire walk down a gravel path to a post-box. The wife reaches into her jacket pocket and produces a letter. We get a quick look at it, Mrs. Heelshire's distinctive writing - addressed to Brahms. Mrs. Heelshire stuffs it in the mailbox and lifts the letter flag. Then she and Mr. Heelshire join hands and continue their walk.

They make their way slowly down the beach. Mr. Heelshire stops and picks up a couple of large-ish stones. One he puts in the pocket of his heavy winter jacket. The other he hands to Mrs. Heelshire who puts it in the pocket of her jacket. This continues - the couple stopping and picking up stones every couple of feet - until they reach the edge of the sea. Mr. Heelshire takes Mrs. Heelshire's hand in his. Then the couple - hand in hand - walk straight toward the sea.

The ice-cold water rushes against their feet, rises to their ankles, and then the sea foam is up to their knees and they keep walking, bending over to push themselves into the waves.

Mrs. Heelshire struggles against the waves until they reach up to her neck. A large swell hits the couple and Mrs. Heelshire disappears. Mr. Heelshire struggles. Another wave and Mr. Heelshire, too, disappears. And then it's as if they were never there - just the beating of the waves on the sand and the rain erasing any trace of their footprints.

♡ ⚀ ♧ ⚁ ♢ ⚂ ♤ ⚃ ♡ ⚄ ♧ ⚅ ♢

The next day, Evelyn sat in the kitchen, drinking her wine at an unreasonable time as she goes through her own choice of book. The sounds of talking from the living room made a creepy smile onto her face, it was almost like two people were talking in that said room. But, it was just Greta, now being fully absorbed in her motherly role to Doll Brahms. Standing up before throwing her glass into the sink, not bothering to wash them, she reaches inside the occupied room.

A stack of records in front of them. Greta flips through them before the doll as she talks, "Classical...classical...classical... Liberace. I'm not sure what kind of music that is. We really need to get you some new music, Brahms. How does that sound?" Greta waited for a response, like a patient mother to a stubborn child, she even gave Evelyn a glance of greeting as the girl took a sit on one of the many couches in the room.

"How about some REO Speedwagon?"

Greta had jumped out of her skin while Evelyn's chuckle filled the room. both women turn to the door to see Malcolm join in the fun of the day. "Sorry. REO Speedwagon is a bit scary. Maybe we'll start with something a bit milder. Maybe some Wham?" His statement bought laughter from Greta. Walking more into the room to be sure that he too was in Evelyn's view, he brought up a few unopen mails, "I got mails here," He didn't see it but Evelyn did, the way Greta had a flash of worry.

'Right,' Evelyn taught to herself, standing up to get the mail from Malcolm, 'Her ex,' giving a sweet smile almost intoxicating and spellbound to Malcolm who gawk a second before answering Greta's question, "Afraid not, nothing for you."

While Greta carried the doll like it was her child, she guides Malcolm to the kitchen, knowing the man is going to stay for lunch, might as well prepare big for everyone to enjoy. Evelyn skims through the letter in her hand. Her eyebrow raises in interest when a letter from Mrs. Heelshire was before her.

"Mine."

A deep spooky voice almost so close to frightening her. Not turning her head or body, she glances to her side knowing the real Brahms is standing behind her, his word implying to the letter in her head. "Who says so? If anything she could have written a letter to me." Evelyn said, but her sentence was followed by her laughter knowing how ridiculous she sounded. Mrs. Heelshire never liked her, and now a random letter. Highly unlikely.

"Evie." for once and just this once, Brahms had a stern tone to him as he calls out her nickname. Not even bothered or mad, she instead, turns her body around to face him, leaning her chin on the couch as she gave a taunting look at the towering male. "You are being awfully protective of this," she stated while raising the letter between them, "I don't like it." Her eyes sparkled brightly. Brahms could tell she wasn't furious at him, more entertained that he had the heart to fight back.

"Please..." changing his tone. He begs for it now. Evelyn's eyes drop dead as she scoffs, throwing the letter at him before she turns her back. He knew begging had always been something Evelyn love seeing him do, it gave her power and seeing him submissive. So knowing him playing that card now, made her annoyed yet proud in a way.