Violette

Chapter 10

We talked a bit more on Zoe's bed when we heard a soft knock on the door.
"Heya girls," Claude quietly entered.
I waved to him slightly.
"Rebecca said we're having pizza for dinner. In the meantime, shall we start packing Lotte?"
I nodded and hopped off the bed, leaving Zoe on there. What surprised me was when Claude addressed Zoe.
"Zoe, can you help us? If we get it done tonight, then tomorrow you can go somewhere with Lotte. "
I smiled at that thought, and that also made Zoe happier as she jumped off the bed.
"Okay,"
We left Becky, Joe, and Vincent together in the front room. I didn't quite catch what they were talking about, but even with the door closed, I could feel the tension in the room.
We quickly slip our shoes on and get the boxes from the car. At this point, it was about 4.30 pm and completely dark.
I open the door to my home as Claude and Zoe follow behind. I turned on the lights and felt a little sad. It was exactly the same as when my parents left that morning.
I felt a light tap on my arm as Zoe went into the house first. 

"Shall we start in your room?" I nodded, and we all went up there. 

I was a bit embarrassed when we got there. I hadn't made my bed and there were socks all over the floor. Pens scattered all over the table as well as open textbooks, and I hadn't vacuumed my room in weeks.

"Right, Munchkin, what shall I start on?" Zoe sniggered at the nickname as she covered her mouth, and I glared at her. It was a shock to me as well when he first used it, though. 

"Can you start to pack up my books, please?" I pointed to the 30 or so books on the bookcase

"Sure."

"Zoe, could you pack up my art supplies, please?" 

"Roger boss" 

Everyone was pretty quiet as they helped me pack up my things. I packed away all of my clothes. Claude was done first as he packed away all the little trinkets like the string lights over my bed, and he wrapped up my windchimes and small glass animals carefully in a stray newspaper he picked up from downstairs. 

"You have a lot of little items. They are quite cute," 

"Yeah, mom used to pick them up for me on her travels. She got the wind chimes from Venice and the little glass animals in Marrakesh." I smiled at the bittersweet memories of my mom as I packed up my massive amount of teddy bears. 

We then heard a knock on the door as Becky delivered two pizzas. The three of us stayed in my house whilst the 'adults' stayed in the other house, continuing their conversation. Poor Claude must have felt left out, but it does make me wonder what on earth were they talking about for so long? 

We sat at the dinner table as Zoe asked Claude various questions of what life was like in America, what school was like, and the different kinds of food they had. I swear that girl is ruled by her stomach, not that i can blame her, I'm also like that. 

But Zoe then asked about the plane journey. I had forgotten about that. I struggled to swallow my pizza, suddenly forgetting how to chew. I felt the nerves rise in my tummy again as tears threatened to spill. 

"Lotte, are you good? You look like you're about to cry. " Zoe picked up on my feelings. 

"Lotte?" Claude was worried at this point.

I put my pizza down and shook my head. 

"What's up, Munchie?" 

I began to cry as i struggled to hide my feelings, wiping my face with the back of my hands. 

"I don't want to get on a plane"

"Why?... Oh," Zoe realised pretty quickly as Claude caught on. 

There was a slight scrape of the arms of the chair on the floor as Claude knelt down next to me and took my hand from my face. 

"It was foolish of me not to realise in the restaurant, I'm so sorry, Violette." He tightly held my hand in both of his. 

"I promise you, everyone gets scared of their first plane ride, especially if they have gone through what you have been through. But if it's any consolation, I will be with you the entire time, " I cried some more as Claude raised his hand to wipe away some of my tears. Zoe didn't move as she let Claude comfort me. 

I nodded, and Claude let go of my hand before giving me a massive hug. It was such a warm hug, it wasnt as tight as Zoe or Becky's, but it was gentle and comforting. When i stopped crying, he pulled away. 

"You're gonna be alright." I nodded and gave him a small smile. 

"I guess we should continue packing then." I made the suggestion, and everyone agreed. At this rate, we should be done before it gets to 10pm.

Before we left the kitchen, we heard the door open as Vincent walked in. 

"Hi dad, what's up?" Claude gave him a light-hearted greeting.

"Nothing, I'm just here to see if Violette needs help packing anything." Vincent stared at my face for a longer while then was probably normal. He must have noticed my red eyes from crying.

I nodded "Okay" I watched Vincent look around the house, as if he was silently judging my home. 

"Lead the way, Violette."

Claude and Zoe continued to pack away the remainder of the things in my room as I went into my parents' room with Vincent following me. 

"Was this your mom's room?" I nodded at Vincent's question. 

Wordlessly, I sat on the floor next to the bed and pulled a box out from underneath. I opened the box, and inside were several photo albums. Mom had been sure to take as many photos of me from when I was born up until now. There were 13 photo albums, one for every year I had been alive. As well as some other items at the bottom of the box. I watched as Vincent sat down next to me. 

"What are these?" 

"They're all photos of me. Mom had loads of them as a reminder, she would say. But I guess she doesn't really need them anymore. So you can have them. Don't worry, all the photos are of me and mom. There aren't any of my... stepdad."

Vincent sat down next to me and took the top one from when I was less than 12 months old. He slowly flicked through the pages. The only sounds are our breathing and the moving of pages. He stopped on a page, looking at a photo of my mom holding me on a park bench on a sunny day. She was holding a bottle to my chubby cheeks as she smiled at me, completely unaware of the camera. I stole a look at his face, and there was the ghost of a smile on it but also some underlying regret. 

I felt conflicted. On the one hand, I feel a little bad for him, but on the other hand, he deserves it. 

He then simply closed the album and handed it back to me.
"I don't need them,"
He simply stood up and walked off.
I was speechless, and there was a little part of me that felt rejected. Did he truly believe I wasn't his child?