My dad held my shoulders in a reassuring grip. Through the mirror in front of me, I could see his encouraging smile. Reassuring and encouraging, but not warm, so much was clear from his posture. There was no room for warmth and happiness on this day.
It was horrible what we were doing. A single glance was enough to tell me that we both knew that. He wanted this as little as I did, maybe even less. Yet when he had proposed this, faltering, ashamed of himself, I had said yes. I had owed him this much. I owed the people of Onda this much. I would be strong so that others could smile.
I didn’t know if I could have done this a couple of years ago. Now, I could. I was doing this. Those two years I had spent on expeditions out in the wastelands had changed me.
I got up out of the chair and hugged my dad. I loved this old fool of mine, truly I did.
“There, there, now. None of this,” he hugged me tighter for just a second, and then pushed me away. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”
I straightened, nodded, clasped his hand in mine, and let him lead me to the door. We had already said our goodbyes. It was time to get this over with.
Right before we went through the door I let go of his hand, darted behind his back, and slapped his ass. Then I appeared at his other side and grasped his hand there. My dad looked utterly affronted. I stuck my tongue out at him.
I couldn’t help myself. I needed this, the pretend normalcy. Just the simple familiarity of father-daughter antics was enough to temporarily still my fraying nerves, at least as long as I didn't stop to remind myself that it might be years before I saw my dad again.
Outside the door, Haver was waiting for us. When we’d gotten back from my last trip I’d ditched him just like all the other guides, simply to keep up my dumping streak. Then I’d gotten him back, not as my father’s lackey, but as my friend. Now he would be joining me, not because he had to, but because I asked and he was just that stupidly amazing. He’d be the only piece of Onda, the only sliver of familiarity I’d have with me. And I would be the same to him.
Haver stepped behind me and gently touched my shoulder. I stopped walking for a moment as he reached for my hair, straightening the ribbon braided into it, while I glanced up at the ever-present wall.
I had woken up in the middle of the night, curled in Haver’s arms, bundled in blankets. We were in some kind of dwelling, old, worn, decrepit. Familiar faded clay made up the walls, the kind that was the prevalent building material in the village we had cleared earlier.
Back in that village then. Had Haver dragged me back here?
I couldn’t recall how we had ended up back here, my last memories were of the caravan, and my frantic search. I could imagine though. My heart felt like it had been squeezed in a vice, my breaths came ragged no matter how much I tried to calm myself. Two years of longing and false hopes had been washed away in an instant.
I drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the night, Haver hugging, stroking, comforting me every time I woke up. I didn’t think he got a lot of sleep.
By morning there was a brand new fire to warm us by and fresh food waiting for us. Our backpacks and gear were laid out by the fire. The Zee girl was sitting across from it. I raised my puffy eyes to look at Haver, the unspoken question written plain on my face. Did he do all this while I slept?
“No,” The answer was little more than a breath as he shook his tired head.
When he sat me down by the fire he looked up at the Zee girl. “Thank you,” he sighed at her.
The implication was so logical, yet it still took me almost a minute of morose fire-gazing to work my way through it. She had done this for us then. Haver had chosen to carry me to safety and had left the gear at the caravan’s wreckage for the night. The Zee girl that for days hadn’t allowed us to get close, she had taken care of it for us. She had brought back our gear and started us a fire.
I didn’t feel up to it but I forced myself to do it anyway. I looked and smiled at her. “Thank you.”
My smile broke after only a second as fresh grief overtook me and my gaze drifted down to the ground at my feet. Across the fire I could hear the Zee girl get up, shuffle away, giving me the space I needed to mourn.
I felt so horribly empty. My heart was empty, my head was empty, and my hands were empty. Only the last I could fix. I reached for my backpack, rummaged in it for something, anything that I could hold.
My eyes landed on one of the shoulder straps. Something was tied to it. Something pink and frilly. I looked up to the other side of the fire. She was gone.
I elbowed my idiot friend. He’d been fussing long enough by now. It was time. I strode forward, flanked by the two most precious people in my life, down the steps, towards the square below and the waiting throng of people.
In the middle of that plaza a man in his thirties with speckled gray hair that I had never before met looked up as I approached and gave me a radiant smile. It was time for a wedding, the daughter of the Regent of Onda, promised to the Doge of Querna. I painted a happy smile on my face. Appearances were important. There were so few of us humans left. No matter what, we could not afford a second Sig.
And maybe I was even a little bit happy, because the wasteland out there, it had changed me. It had given me a new friend. It had given me closure, made me strong enough not to run from responsibility. Most of all, it had given me the pink and frilly ribbon in my hair.
It wasn’t anything like what she wore when she died, but it was still hers. I had a mom, and she was dead and it was horrible. I’d probably never see her again, but I knew that even in death she still loved me, the adopted daughter that she had never met.
All of this was mere speculation on my part. But sometimes we just need to hope with all our heart.
Also, I had asked dad what mom’s favorite color was.
Pink.
Pink, and maybe frilly.
Thanks for the Story!!!