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Elphaba approached her Father’s house, hating the sound of her heels clicking on the Yellow Brick Road. The sound made her more of a presence, and she had tried to disappear since she had been deemed the town’s “wicked witch”. Indeed, several Munchkins hurried away when they saw her, creating a gap on the crowded road.
Her walking slowed as she got closer to the house. A new upscaled house that her father bought to fill the hole in his heart when his daughters left for Shiz. Or, daughter, she supposed. She had to force herself to keep moving as the road turned into a private walkway. She just wanted to put as much time as possible between now and seeing her father.
It was a friendly looking house. The bricks had been painted a pristine shade of white with carefully placed vines of ivy growing up the walls. The windows were sealed shut, but she could see the dimmest of lights had been lit behind them. If someone didn’t know her father, they would never know someone was home. She paused longer than needed before knocking on the door, practicing what to say. It all depended on who opened the door.
A Munchkin wearing a doctor’s uniform and a monocle stood before her. He looked confused to see her, arrogant enough not to feel scared, just confused. He scanned the clipboard in his hand as if it would help him find a reason for why she was there.
“I’m here to see the Governor, sir.” Given her reputation, she tried to appear as friendly and respectful as possible. The skill came easily to her as she had been forced to practice it throughout childhood.
“Who is it?” Nessarose’s familiar voice came from inside. She wheeled to the door, and her face fell when she saw Elphaba. She turned back to the doctor. “Let her in, she’s my sister.”
“I…I wasn’t aware the Governor had another child,” the doctor sputtered, gesturing for her to enter.
Elphaba tried to take in as few details of the interior as possible. It wasn’t her house or her family, so it wasn’t hers to see. She kept her gaze on the dark, hardwood floors as she crossed the room, and walked upstairs.
Nessarose led her to their father’s room down the hall. The door was slightly ajar, and Nessarose opened it all the way. “Elphaba’s here!” she shouted, not even giving her time to breathe.
Elphaba tiptoed into the room, seeing her father sprawled out on the bed. She flinched at the sight of him. He looked so much older than she remembered him. His hair and beard were almost completely grey, his skin was very pale, but more than that, his spirit was gone. In Nessa’s letter, she said he had the heart attack during Madame Morrible’s awful broadcast. It seemed his heart had just broken.
So here she was at his death bed, with only one last attempt to earn his love. “Hello, Father,” she said. Her voice cut through the silence of the room, sounding commanding, emotionless, but not unkind.
She made her way to the chair beside his bed, her eyes on Nessarose the whole time, watching for an approving glance. Nessarose nodded at her as she sat down, but remained in the doorway.
She held out her hand for him. He shook it but didn’t let go. “Hello Father,” she repeated.
He said nothing, so she kept talking. Once the silence was broken, it had to be filled. “I know it’s probably a surprise to see me here. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for everything.” But her voice broke on the word sorry, and a tear ran down her cheek. She didn’t even know what she was apologizing for, but he made her feel like she had done something horrible to him.
She tried to stop crying, but she just couldn’t. She just nodded to him, hoping he would say something back. He squeezed her hand while she cried. It was the most affection she had gotten from him since childhood. That should’ve been enough for her. She should’ve just left. But now she was frozen to that chair.
“So you’ve met The Wizard. You must be very proud of yourself,” he said, matter of factly. But I want you to be proud of me, she thought. Still it must have taken him a while to think of something so plain and gentle to say to her. And it was the first time he spoke to her like a daughter, and not Nessarose’s unpaid caregiver. But she needed more from him. He had a lot of years to make up for, though it felt selfish to admit.
“I’ve been seeing a girl, Father. I think you would like her. You see, her family is from the Upper Uplands. The sort of people you would want to be friends with.” She cursed herself silently for how that sounded, what it implied.
He plastered a smile onto his face. “That’s lovely, dear.” He looked into her eyes for the first time, and she could see tears forming in his. “I’m impressed. You’ve made friends, gotten in with Madame Morrible. I’m sorry not everything worked out for you though.”
Impressed. A step down from proud. But still, good. She wondered if she should press him further, try to make him say “I love you” without saying it first. But she shouldn’t have to. A parent’s natural instinct should be to love their children, to care for them, to sacrifice for them. And she had heard the animals in her childhood home gossiping about her father’s first words upon seeing her. Take it away.
He didn’t see her as a daughter, didn’t see himself as her parent. Or else he would have held his newborn baby to his chest and cradled her until she fell asleep. He would’ve felt excitement and not fear at the prospect of raising her.
She looked away as her tears continued to fall. Nessarose looked on from the doorway, a sour expression on her face. Elphaba supposed it was the first time she wasn’t the only daughter. The first time she could possibly start to feel something resembling jealousy towards her sister.
Elphaba brought her gaze back to her father, still clutching her hand in his. He said what they were both thinking. “I wish we could have had this talk earlier. We don’t have much time.”
She nodded, unsure of what to say, trying to pull a single book from the library of things left unsaid. He was right, he had only a few hours left to live. But she would take the time she could get. She would slow down every second. She had a childhood to remake and precious little time to do it.
Nessarose took this as her cue to wheel over to the Governor’s bedside. Still, it was Elphaba’s hand that he held onto. She had enough moments with their father. Elphaba would take what was left.
Nessarose rested her head on Elphaba’s shoulder. Her father cleared his throat, trying to make conversation. “Well, I’ve heard both of you are doing very well in your studies.” Well yes, that was, until Elphaba made sure she would never be welcomed back at Shiz. But she took what she could get. Even if it was just scraps of leftover love, half truths brought up to make small talk.
***
Elphaba felt numb as she left her father’s house. It was like she left all of her emotions behind in her father’s room. The one thing she could feel was disappointed that he never said he loved her. She knew that it would nag at her for the rest of forever. If she had said it first, if she had pressed him enough.
She took one last look at the house as she walked away. It was a big house, too big for one man. The rooms must have been filled in his mind, with space for his deceased wife, and his daughter. Maybe two daughters.
She stepped back onto the Yellow Brick Road. The Munchkins still scurried away from her, unable to recognize that she had just been through something, unable to recognize that she had been crying. Oh well, that’s what she was used to.