For the First Time

[Genevieve Kesslar]

Genevieve Kesslar stood outside her father's house, gathering her courage. She knew nothing about him- nothing save that it had been because of him that at the age of six she'd run away from home. So she didn't expect to like him. She felt vulnerable like she hadn't been since that time, barriers down, stakes high.

Nevertheless, as far as Gen knew he was the only family she had. A few months ago she had embarked on a quest to find her roots- not to find herself, she knew herself perfectly well and was happy with what she knew. Anyway, her search had led her here, to Sainte-Maxime in France. To meet her father.

Dredging up once more her customary confidence, Genevieve knocked on the door. This was it. The so-called moment of truth.

 

[Jonothan Kesslar]

Jonothan Kesslar was carefull reading the day's issue of the Daily Prophet. It was one of those rare days when he was completely alone in the house. Both his daughter and his wife were out of the house and her was thoroughly enjoying the peace and quiet. He turned a page and his eyes skimmed over the words in front of him, it was all rather dull news, nothing worth reading. Closing the mind nubbing paper and set it on the coffee table beside his chair. Sighing Jonothan stretched and stuck out a hand. Collecting the half full cup of lukewarm coffee, he downed it and stood. He moved toward the kitchen and just sat the cup on the bench when he heard a knock on the door. Running a hand through his hair he grinned. It was a little early for his 12 o'clock but who cared.

He approached the door and pulled it open. "Megan, you're a little early, I..." he trailed off when he saw the figure standing on his doorstep. "Elodie? What are you doing here?" As far as he was aware his eldest daughter still hated him. What on earth was she doing on his doorstep.

 

[Genevieve Kesslar]

"Elodie? Who's Elodie?" Genevieve asked immediately. "And," she added mischievously, "who's Megan?" While the man before her attempted stammered explanations which degraded into stunned silence, she studied him. Presumably this was Jonothan Kesslar, the man who had caused her so much misery. Her only family. He didn't look like much.

Realising that he was still staring at her discombobulatedly, Gen made some attempt at manners. "Jonothan Kesslar, I presume?" She smiled wickedly and held out her hand to shake. "I'm Genevieve Kesslar, your daughter."

 

[Jonothan Kesslar]

"Aren't you Elodie?" he asked rather discombobulatedly, eyebrows contracting into a deep frown. She looked exactly like Elodie,"Er... she... um..." he said rubbing his hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. This was a situation that he never wanted to be caught in again. Still confused and coming to terms with the situation he examined the girl closely. There was something different about the girl standing in front of him. She looked like Elodie minus the ridiculous purple streak that had put stupid ideas into his youngest daugthers head.

His mouth dropped open in shock, "Genevieve? As in my daugh...?" Jonothan's mouth opened and shut in pure disbelief. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of the eldest twin since she ran away when she was six. He had long come to the conclusion that she was dead. "What on earth are you doing here?" he asked recovering from the shock and raising an enquiring eyebrow at her. He folded his arms across his chest, he couldn't imagine why she would want to bother coming back after running away so long ago.

 

[Genevieve Kesslar]

Genevieve just had to laugh at her father's ridiculous attempts to explain awaw Megan. "No, I'm not Elodie, obviously, or I wouldn't be asking who she is. Speaking of which, I'll ask it one more time. Who is Elodie?" Dripping with sarcasm, Genevieve said all this while Jonothan was still staring at her confusedly. His blank expression was so comical she started laughing again, slightly hysterical in her anxiety.

"Yes," she said when she had stopped laughing. "Genevieve as in the girl who ran away when she was six because you were such an awful father." She crossed her arms. "I came here because I've been living as an orphan and when I found out you were still alive I wanted to find out what became of my family. So, how have you been keeping?" she finished with false jollity.

 

[Jonothan Kesslar]

"Oh, she's your twin." she said quickly, not wanting to drag out the explaination any longer. "Don't you remember?" he asked recalling the shinanigans the pair were frequently getting up to. As she laughed Jonothan sighed, this was going to take forever if she couldn't keep her laughter under control. She reminded him of Elodie, she would always laugh, making it damn near impossible for him to explain to her what he was trying to say. A trait that seemed to also be present in Genevieve.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked as her laughter finally died down. "Hey!" he cried raising his hands in surrender, "I wasn't that bad!" he said frowning. "Oh, I see." he now understood why she had turned up on his doorstep. He never did understand the way the teenage girls' minds worked. "Er... I've been finer... you know it would probably be best if you caught up with Elodie. I'm not really a good conversationalist." her shrugged a shoulder and stood aside to let her in nevertheless. "Come in." she said gesturing toward the lounge.

 

[Genevieve Kesslar]

"My twin?" Genevieve repeated in shock. Memories reeled through her head. There had been . . . Elodie, her imaginary friend . . . the things they'd done together . . . when she'd run away, her imaginary twin had been left behind . . . Maybe she hadn't been so imaginary after all. "Oh my giddy aunt! Elodie!"

Recovering from her sprint down memory lane, Genevieve realised that Jonothan was still talking. She tuned out during his protests of innocence, knowing that it had all been his fault. "Yes, I gathered you're not too good at the whole conversation thing. I mean, what happened after I left. What have you been doing for the past thirteen years? Fill me in on the family history." Gen told him, following her father into his house.