WtAF Eloise Journal DT3

May 25th, 2014

Downtime
Dear Luther,

I've decided to spend some time away from Detroit, in the wake of everything that's happened of late, and everything I've discovered. I won't lie: after my scare facing an actual unquiet spirit, I am forced to face some harsh realities that are not comfortable to contemplate.

Have you found your eternal rest, or are you haunting the place where you died? I am frankly afraid to know the answer to this, though our research has uncovered myriad ways of testing a place for the presence of the restless. Should I return to that factory, where you met your end at the hands of monsters? How could you possibly rest easily knowing what you left undone, knowing how you died? You were always willful and stubborn, Luther - how could I think that you'd be less so after death?

Perhaps more horrifying still is the idea that our Rebecca might yet I can't even finish that sentence. It fills me with a strangling grief and despair that is too horrible to even contemplate. Our baby girl, in such a condition? I can't breathe for the thought.

So I have decided to leave for a while. Even if neither of you (God forbid) rest uneasily, I myself am a ghost. I haunt this old house, tormented by grief, memories, and the kinds of punishments that someone who drinks as I do is capable of inflicting on herself. How can I fight for the living, for the innocent, if I am but a spirit myself?

So, I'm leaving for a while. I know the others will be perfectly capable of carrying on without me; indeed, most of my contributions involve driving and helping to research (and even then I'm not terribly useful half the time).

I love and miss you, Luther. Please be resting quietly, in peace as you have earned.

June 18th, 2014

Downtime
Dear Luther,

I am writing to you from a resort in Florida. Oh, I fear it's nothing like the sorts of things we used to do together - it's not a week in Mykonos snorkeling. Instead, it's a perfectly sedate little hotel with beachfront property. Its patrons are middle managers, and divorcees who've gotten a bit of an alimony windfall, and the like.

I've been enjoying my time here, though it's time spent doing not much at all. I've walked the beach countless times, and taken tours of the surrounding area's limited historical attractions. Pirates used to harbor here, you know, and some Spanish explorers once stumbled through here looking for the Fountain of Youth. (Ah, if only!)

My time here, being social with housewives and mistresses, business women on well-earned vacations and mothers whose youngest child have just finally gone off to college has somewhat reminded me of my time in society. They adore me here already, and there is some part of me that has quickened under that appraisal. I remember what it's like to come to an event in an outfit one day, and to another two days later to find half of the attendees aping that very same outfit to the best of their ability.

So I have made a decision. I am going to seek out some of my old contacts and see if I can arrange to get an invitation to a Fourth of July event in the Hamptons, among the folk we used to spend time with. Murphy assures me he knows someone who can get us decent accomodations, which he'd love to split with me if I'll take him as my "plus-one". He's also promised me a full and lovely make-over if we can do it.

I'm going to do it, Luther. I'm returning to the Hamptons. This will be the litmus test, I think. Let us see if I can fit in with society once more, this time on my own.

I love and miss you, my Luther. Wish me luck.

July 10th, 2014

Downtime
Dear Luther,

Oh my love. It worked. I was not just accepted back without ridicule or gossip, but the Hamptons were glad to see me once more! I admit, I was fearful of what sort of reception I might get. I'm not sure whether mockery or pity would have been worse, but neither happened.

Instead, I was welcomed home, as the prodigal daughter. So many of my dear old friends were thrilled to see me. I lunched so much during the time there - sometimes twice in one day! - because so many of them insisted on spending time with me once more. I spoke to so many of our old mutual friends, to so many of my girlhood friends, and friends from college.

When anyone spoke of you, it was with the most sincere and warm recollection, Luther. Sharing such memories as I did over the weekend was a balm to my soul, almost as though you were with me once more.

I think I can do this. I think this is a world I can return to, although I will have to find some way to make changes in my own life. My means are much more limited these days; were it not for the insistence of my charming hosts, there's no way I'd have been able to eat at all of those establishments.

I'm still not sure exactly what it is I'm going to do about that. I'm wholly unequal to the task of resurrecting Danford Industries, for a variety of reasons. That was your legacy, and your dream - I shared it because I was your love, but I do not know how to make such a thing viable, even if I were able to somehow resurrect it.

But I do have strengths of my own I might leverage, if this weekend has taught me anything. I shall need time to think about it, I feel.

I love and miss you, Luther. As do many others.

August 7th, 2014

Downtime
Dear Luther,

I feel as though I've needed time to decompress from my summer. After the Hamptons, there was certainly no way I could afford to remain there (my funds were already much-stretched by that point!), so I caught a cheap flight back to Florida and called on Allison Prescott.

I know you always had strong opinions about my relationship with Allison. And with good reason - I, too, consider some of her life choices to be questionable at best. I could never do what she did, simply up and fleeing her childrens' lives, as though they were some...plague to escape.

It was two days before we talked about her children. They're clearly a touchy subject for her, and one she avoided talking about for a while. I can tell she experiences a great deal of shame regarding her past with them, and the fact that she abandoned them. It's clearly one of those topics that's fraught with tempestuous emotions, the sort of thing that you know is awful, but have no idea how to make amends for because of how awful it is.

Ultimately, though, we did talk about Oz quite a bit, as he's the one I see most often. I showed her his web site for his business, and told her all about his little shop back home. She was so impressed with how he's done, and rightly so: Oz is a wonderful and loving young man, eccentricities or no. I tried to talk her into getting into contact with him, but she's loathe to, fearful of hurting him more. I suspect she's also avoiding his (rightful) wrath, as well, and I don't know that I can blame her.

After all, I haven't told him that I've been in contact with her all these years, either, as it seems cruel considering the lack of contact between the two of them.

With this time done, and summer on the wane, it was time for me to return home. I've only just gotten in from the airport. I haven't even unpacked my bags yet - I'll leave it for morning.