4SPRING
She'd spent her time in the winter in solitude, but she truly couldn't say that any of it was enjoyable. Liz had hardly spent time by the beckoning fireplaces that burned in Kid's living room and his personal study upstairs despite her constant yearning for something to keep her hands warm. She leeched heat from the passengers boarding the train, their hotheads making her fury rise and at her worst, their abandoned half-drunk bottles that they left for the custodians making her chest and cheeks go pink. It was all the color of anger but emptiness, a rudimentary shade of red that she was growing sick of seeing. From the rusty walls of the trains to the expensive ruby petticoats and from the consistent white noise to the white steam of the train, she desired more than just those colors that trapped her where she sat.
And so she left those tracks, pulled herself away from the familiar line to find a better way to live and to cope. In a way, she grew tired again, unhappy that she chose to venture so far away for so long. She wondered what would happen if she revisited a place that gave her comfort before, how different it would feel from the comfort that she sought now.
It was worth a try, and so after stopping by the house for a quick change of clothes and the familiar weight of a camera around her neck once again, she journeyed to the park alone where she'd lost herself so long ago.
She couldn't remember when she'd last seen the color green, and yet here it was before her, as if it were beckoning her to come back to life. Liz sat at her usual bench next to the duck pond, but something was different today. Surely the leaves on the trees weren't any greener today than usual, and yet today was as if she had never seen the color before in her life. She swung her legs gently underneath the bench, glancing out at the pond. A mother duck and a set of ducklings swam across the water, creating ripples in the reflection of the trees and sky above, and she smiled despite herself.
That was it. She was smiling. Smiling. Liz couldn't remember the last time she had smiled. Yet something about this - the color green, the ducklings shaking their newly formed feathers, the flower gardens bursting into color around her - made her feel something other than despair for the first time she could remember.
She thought back to last summer, to the glass of lemonade and the first moon landing and the feel of the fan on the back of her neck that day. Patty had been laughing, the sound chiming through the open window like a familiar song, and Liz felt a pang of shame at that. Her sister had spent all this time adapting to her new environment, rather than push it away. She had made friends with the gardener, the maids, the cooks who shared the house with them. Paul had given her a special patch of her own this spring to plant in. Cynthia made banana pudding the other night for dessert, Patty's favorite, and had slipped some extra on her plate when Kid wasn't looking.
And Kid . Who had done nothing but welcome two dirty, broken strangers into his home, spent his small fortune on whatever he could think of that would make them smile, tried to converse with her time and time again only to be shut out, and he still hadn't stopped trying.
Maybe she should give him a chance. He had, after all, given her countless chances. And her sister continued to be the best judge of character she had ever known, so maybe it was time she trusted her sister's judgment.
"Sissy!"
Liz looked up at the familiar sound of her sister's voice, and her eyes widened. Not a moment ago, she'd been reflecting on how badly she'd neglected Patty, and yet here she was, eyes shining and arms wide, and Liz couldn't help it. She smiled. For the first time in what felt like years, she smiled, and she stood by the edge of the pond with her arms crossed and waited for her sister to reach her.
Kid followed close by, and Liz still smiled. Dangling over his arm was her favorite white jacket, over the other the faded quilt that hung over the back of the television room, and he held a wicker basket in his hands.
"You forgot your jacket," Patty said as she wrapped her arms around her sister's waist. Liz, hesitant, laid one arm around Patty's shoulder and let her nose burrow into the younger girl's hair.
"Thanks, Patty," she replied.
"We brought a snack for you too." Kid holds up the basket and nods toward it. "It's nearly three o'clock and we thought you might be hungry."
"The snack was Kid's idea, sis," Patty chirped. "But I remembered to get the blanket. We're gonna have a picnic!"
Liz couldn't help it, a tear rolled down her cheek before she could stop it. All winter, nearly all year really, she'd been fighting against this new life, against Kid's kindness, against her own sister, and even after everything they had remembered her. She took the jacket from Kid and pulled it over her shoulders, grabbed a corner of the blanket as they spread it out next to the duck pond, and marveled at the generosity of these people in her life. People always disappoint you, she was so sure of it just weeks ago, but as she took a bite of the sandwich Patty handed her, she wondered if people weren't all so bad after all.
She started taking the camera with her on walks again. This time, though, she looked for springtime behind the lens. Flowers in bloom, the ducklings by the pond, the newness and brightness of the world fascinated her, and she became determined to capture it.
Kid helped her get them developed, and she tacked one to the wall above her bed. Just one, for now. Soon one became another, then another, and one day Patty came into her bedroom and exclaimed aloud, "Liz your walls are so colorful!"
So they were.
It'd been awhile since she accepted a group outing together with Patty and Kid at an establishment, and yet she was more than comfortable with going to the Country House Restaurant in due time. To prepare, Liz accepted her personal maids' help with her clothes who worked under the watchful eyes of her sister. They picked out a green and cream colored dress, made of thick cotton. Patty bought it on another outing earlier in the month, but she waiting until that moment to hand it over to Flora and Felicia. It was a surprise to both girls who presented it to Liz in excitement. All three fawned over it, noting how it was a perfect fit, a refreshing outfit that seemed it was made just for Liz. Later, she decided, she would go to buy a feathered boa for Patty and a nice tie for Kid as a thank you.
They were clearly still thinking of her while she was so busy trying to forget them. They kept her in their minds and their hearts, collecting gifts and little trinkets that they piled in Kid's study, waiting for the chance to give them to her. That moment didn't come for a while, as anyone could tell. She was always out and about until she finally decided that it was time to accept her new life. Just roughly a year later, that was how long it took for her to find a home.
She had no memory of the last time she felt like she truly belonged. Together with Patty, they wandered as outcasts, moving from place to place out of shame and necessity. They had a true home now, and they found it in the boy who found them- who believed in their goodness and gave nothing but good in return. Getting to know him was proof of that; Liz supposed that Patty was right all along.
She began by befriending the cooks who struggled to pinpoint her tastes, giving them the praise and criticisms that they were looking for in order to cater more to her liking. As a result of her more frequent meals at the table, the butlers and maids were also given chances to get to know the person they were hearing so much about. Not only did Liz grow comfortable with giving Cynthia a wink every time she brought out banana pudding, she also began to receive extra dessert as well, heavy on the whipping cream.
The Country House Restaurant was a larger, more extravagant restaurant than the Mirabelle Tavern. It was grand and luxurious as it looked within the building itself; Liz was surprised at first that Kid would make reservations there, but Patty, who was all set to get and knew exactly what to order, looked eager to eat out with her completed family again. She sat down first when the waiter showed them to their table, ignoring the forms of etiquette and making the space her own. Kid followed suit as if it were already a regular thing, sitting down before the waiters could pull out his chair, and then he invited Liz to sit down as well.
It was a pleasant surprise to her, but she ignored the scandalized looks and the disapproval from an older woman from across the room. She felt so much more comfortable, making the space her own as she put a napkin over her lap and spreading out her utensils the way that she wanted it. If Kid were at all offended, he kept it to himself while he made sure to keep his own space tidy.
While they ate dinner, which Patty ordered herself, they talked about their pastimes and managed to squeeze a couple of words in about the state of affairs. They all managed to make the conversation run smoothly with a few bumps in between. While Kid and Patty shared a couple of inside jokes, Liz noticed that Patty shared just as many with her, and that there was no reason to feel upset over it. She was just as important to Patty as Kid was. Someday, she hoped to know Kid that way as well, preferably sooner rather than later. When she cracked a joke that tested the waters about his skin once again, he laughed slightly, shaking his head about how many times he'd heard it now from almost everyone in his life. He shot Liz a little look of amusement, and she beamed a little with pride that she was making steps with her new friend.
While Liz typically didn't like the taste of tea and champagne (it was too bitter and floral for her), she found that Kid wasn't a fan of spirits or hard liquor either. They were allowed to dislike things, and it reminded her that she didn't have to like everything about her life. With a sense of courage, she ordered a new item on the menu though, hoping to try something that she never had before. After taking a sip, she found that she wasn't used to that kinda spread of flavor, but at least she was willing to try something new.
They walked home that night, Patty laughing and joking the whole way. Kid smiled affectionately at her, and Liz found herself joking along with. It was the same walk they always took home, the same route, but something about this time didn't make her feel quite so restless. The comfort of going home, she realized later, but for now she enjoyed the walk, laughing with Patty and Kid, and it was enough.
He stopped to say goodnight to the both of them, and nearly left to retire for the night when Patty caught him by the hand and tugged him closer.
"Stay," she said simply, taking Liz' hand in her other, and so he did. The three curled into Patty's bed, and the last thought Liz had before drifting off to sleep was surprise at how grateful she was to finally have somewhere to call home.
The couch was still threadbare, the television still grainy, but the scene before them was nothing like it had been last summer. Last summer, she waited with baited breath as man took his first steps on the moon, and she clenched her fists waiting for something to fall apart.
This time, Kid and Patty were on either side of her. Patty rested her head against her shoulder, clutching her right hand, and Kid held her left. Gently, gingerly, as if Liz would get up and leave again if he held too tight, but Liz was done running. Together with her family, they watched the events unfold on the screen before them, watched as the newscaster reported the disaster that awaited the Apollo 13 crew as they made their way into space. Explosions, a loss of oxygen, failures to their water supply, and more, it was almost certain that they were going to die.
And yet, with her family on either side, after everything that had happened over the past year, Liz couldn't help but have hope. Despite their apparent odds, she thought that maybe the Apollo 13 crew might make it out alive.
THE END
