“Alice?” she whispered.
“Hello Mother.” Alice attempted a smile, but quickly dropped her head and shrank inward lest Mother should think she was being deliberately insolent. Alice swallowed hard and braced herself for the imminent onslaught of anger, determined to be brave for Father once more.
But then, dear friends, the strangest thing happened.
Mother fell to her knees.
She threw her arms around her daughter and pulled her tight to her chest and wept, long and loud. Mother’s pain felt real and hot against Alice’s small body, and Alice could almost hear Mother coming untethered, tears cracking open ribs to let the pain pass through. “I’m sorry,” Mother cried. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t ever run away again. Please forgive me.”
“But, Mother—” Alice tried to say.
“I blamed you,” she said. “I knew why Father left and I blamed you for it and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“You knew?” said Alice, stunned. “You knew why he left?”
Mother looked up at Alice, eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and nodded. “He went to find color for you. He thought—he thought it would make you happy. But when he never came back, I blamed you for it.” She shook her head. “I treated you horribly. Please forgive me, Alice. I can’t bear to lose you both.”
“But you haven’t lost us, Mother,” said Alice softly. “You never did.”
Alice stepped backward to let Father step forward, and she wandered off in a daze, her head heavy and swimming with truths newly collected. For Alice, who’d only ever wanted to be loved and cared for, Mother’s confession was a revelation. And a curious life lesson. She and Mother had both loved Father dearly; but though this love had carried Alice, it had crushed Mother, and this was a power she hadn’t known a heart could possess.
Love, it turned out, could both hurt and heal.
Strange.
“I told you she loved you,” said a familiar voice.
Alice was so startled she jumped nearly a foot in the air. “Why Oliver Newbanks!” she shout-whispered. “How dare you spy on me!” (But she was secretly pleased to see him.)
“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” he said, smiling. “I knew this would be a hard moment for you.” The sun was setting overhead, making the sky look as if it’d been slit open to rush the sunshine out. Oliver appeared to be glowing in the halo.
“I am,” said Alice, but she was quiet about it. Thoughtful.
“What is it?” Oliver said, studying her. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m going to redo my Surrender, you know.” She sighed. “In the spring. And I’ll finally have a task of my own.”
“Of course you will,” said Oliver, beaming. “And you’ll do splendidly.”
“Well,” she said, examining her fingers. “I might be gone a very long time.”
Oliver’s smile slipped. He cleared his throat and said, “Right. Of course.”
“So,” said Alice, looking off into the distance. “I was wondering if you’d come with me.”
Oliver blinked, surprised.
“I mean you don’t have to,” Alice said quickly. “Firstly it’s illegal and secondly I know you’ll be busy with other th—”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said. “Not for anything.”
And Oliver smiled and Alice smiled back, and she looked up at the sky and wondered, as she closed her eyes, how this small, cluttered world had managed to make room for all her happiness. Father was home and Mother was kind and Alice and Oliver would be friends for a very long time and that, as they say, was that.
Or at least it is all I will say on the subject.
Until next time, dear reader.
THE END
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