Fighter {Completed}

Chapter Forty-Seven: It's Eleanor {Ellie}

Chapter Forty-Seven: It's Eleanor {Ellie}

I wonder what Cole is up to, Eleanor. You should give him a call. Let's see how well he can lie.

Scarlet peers over my screen, frowning. "Fucker. What did he mean?"

"I'm not sure," I shrug. "I called Cole, but... He didn't pick up. I tried calling from Sebastian's phone, too, when mine died, but he didn't answer that one either." I settle for those words instead of the ones of doubt rolling through my head. She sighs, giving me a look that I know comes with the usual questions. "I'm fine. It was late and I'm sure he was asleep or something." I chuckle, shoving it deep.

"Let's just get this over with."

We enter the building as a man with a kind face and white hair greets us at the front desk. He wears a nice smile, one that almost says, 'I wish we weren't here today.'

"I assume you are Eleanor Robinson?" he asks politely, voice smooth. I nod.

"That'd be me."

"Right this way. Your mother is ready for tomorrow."

I stop.

"Tomorrow? Isn't that a little soon? I thought I had a few more days?" I ask him. He pauses slightly, but continues moving out from behind the desk after a beat.

"Yes, well the insurance company has decided to speed things up at the wishes of extended family. I believe they're on their way here as well; they said they wanted to be a part of the planning and ceremony."

What the fuck?

These people don't reach out or check on me since my father dies and now they expect to just show up and take charge?

"There they are now, actually."

As soon as the large woman enters the building, I sigh, rolling my eyes.

Margret Dove, my mother's sister and long-time drama actor of the family. She has two of her three children in tow, the older one looking annoyed and extremely impatient with his mother as she already wipes a tear from her eye.

"Ellie," she says, beginning to sniffle.

"It's Eleanor," I correct my aunt, trying not to sneer at the words.

You don't get to call me by my nickname - you abandoned me like everyone else, so you don't get to know me the way they do.

My older cousin and her oldest son, Saint, cracks a smile at the exchange, quickly disguising it as a cough as his mother looks at him. She scoffs, moving past me and into the showing room behind the white-haired man. Her second child follows along, always in his momma's shadow. Saint, on the other hand, comes toward me.

"Hey, kiddo," he greets me. I roll my eyes once more. Six months, a small gap for him to be calling me 'kiddo.' His arms wrap around me in a hug as he greets me. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know," I shrug. He chuckles, the sound reverberating in his chest where my head lies.

Saint had been one of the few family members to keep contact and check in regularly after my father died. He'd been one of the few to actually bond with me, one of the few that tried to help my brother and mother both, one of the few that I can actually stand to be around. His mother and the other lot? Not so much.

He holds me at arms length as I begin to speak.

"I'm good," I tell him.

"You sure?" He raises a brow, skeptical.

"Yeah..." I trail off. "I'm not really...sad." I shake my head at myself, guilt flaring in my bones. "I'm sure that's shitty to say, but I'm not really that upset about it..."

"It's not shitty. She hasn't been a mother to you since your dad died. She's been horrible to you and so has your brother. You shouldn't feel bad for not feeling bad." I nod, and take a deep breath.

"Let's get this over with," he laughs, leading the three of us inside. I introduce Scarlet to my family and vise versa, before the white-haired man gets started. He asks questions about the decor we want, as well as music and who we want to speak. I try to answer the first few questions, but Margret beats me to it each time, so I just close my mouth and let her do the work.

I don't mind so much, actually. It saves me the pain of thinking.

By the time it's done, I'm surprised the room hasn't filled with chaos yet, as even the nice white-haired man is red-faced and almost seething at my aunt's antics. Even her most loyal son looks embarrassed for once, which is surprising since he's normally right there with her on the dramatics spectrum.

Margret heads to her car without a word, and so I thank the man before Scarlet, Saint, and I all head outside. We stand beside Scarlet's car. We're only there for a second, but Margret yells anyways, saying, "Saint Andrew Dove, if you don't get your ass in this car, you can get a cab back to your apartment." He rolls his eyes, ignoring his mother.

"Alright, I'm gonna go before she accidentally spills bleaches laundry again," he says, sighing.

"She bleached your laundry?" Scarlet gasps.

He chuckles, shrugging. "Wasn't the first time and won't be the last."

"Jesus. What did you do to deserve that?" she asks, joking with him.

"She told my gay roommate that he was going to Hell when we came home for summer break... and I might have told her she'd be right there next to him for being such a bitch all the time." A beat of silence passes before Scarlet and I both burst out laughing. "Safe to say I didn't come home for Christmas after that. Once she finally convinced me to visit home, she somehow spilled bleach from the supplies closet into the washer."

"God, that's awful. No offense, but..."

"Believe me, no offense taken. She's my own mother and I can barely stand her. She's the definition of an entitled Karen." He sighs, checking the time. "I gotta head out. I told Johnny I'd take him to the club tonight so he can make his latest boy-toy jealous. See you guys later. Call me if you need me, Ellie. I'm only a couple hours away." I nod, hugging him once more just as a black car speeds past us.

It definitely seems like Cole's Challenger, but I can't be sure with how fast it was going, so I leave it alone, telling Saint to be careful and getting into Scarlet's car.

Stop, Ellie.

He's in L.A.

He's not home, and he didn't lie to you. Stop letting Keenan get to your head.

"Where to next?"

"Insurance office. Let's see just how much this funeral is going to cost...and whether or not I'll have to become a stripper to pay it. Jesus, why is dying so fucking expensive?" Scarlet chuckles before heading toward the insurance offices. We reach them within a few minutes, going inside just about half an hour before they close.

The meeting is short, sweet, and to the point, surprisingly.

We arrive home a few moments later, with the insurance packet in my hands. Of course it isn't my actual measly little check, but since the funeral is paid for, I honestly don't give a shit how much I get.

After a quick greeting from Sebastian, I head to my room, ready to sleep the rest of the day away and be done with today.

__________