jenlisa one shots & short stories

promises

Her hand left her face to slip into her hair, pulling her closer so that she could begin to work on a new braid, tying it off with a rubber band she found in the pocket of her dress. "But while that might be true, don't you ever think that you are just a pawn. You are so much more than that, Lili. If you weren't, we wouldn't be here right now. I wouldn't be here right now. But I am because I love you." She drew in a shaky breath, her eyes wandering over her shoulder.

The old wooden clock in the hall, a last minute housewarming gift from her mother, chimed once. Their eyes met again.

"The train leaves at quarter after one," Lisa whispered.

She nodded slowly. She stood as she did, pulling her jacket from the closet and watching as she kissed Leo and Kuma's heads, smiling as they licked her cheeks and nudged their heads under her arms. At last, she stood, sparing them one last glance before following Jennie outside into the warm sunshine. She cursed the sun for daring to shine on such a day, the warmth on her shoulders yet another reminder of where they were going and how quiet the walk home would be.

She rested her head on her shoulder as they walked, her arm slipping around her waist. The tan fabric of her jacket was stiff against her cheek and smelled of dust like it had been sitting and waiting for her for years. Maybe it had.

As they grew closer to the train station, they found themselves surrounded by a crowd of people, all heading in various directions. Jennie clung to Lisa's waist as she fisted a hand in her sleeve, her eyes trained ahead. She tugged on her sleeve, urging her to walk slower as they approached the train. She could see the train ticket in her pocket, the white slip of paper daunting her as they came to a stop, the train's open door within sight.

One way trip.

Lisa turned to her, a forced smile on her lips. "Maybe if we're lucky I'll be home in time for Christmas. Then we can finally go on that trip to California, so you can see the ocean," she joked. She cracked a smile at her, but her eyes watered with tears that threatened to fall with the next inappropriately timed blink or glance. When they finally did, she wiped them away with her thumb, warm and real and alive.

"Promise me that you'll come home," she said hoarsely.

"I promise. Christmas, remember? One way or another, I'm going to make sure you get to the ocean, Nini." She pulled her into her chest and her chin fit into the crook of her shoulder as her arms fell into their rightful place around her waist; pieces of a puzzle sliding into place.

"I can't wait," she mumbled into her neck. She pulled away as the crowd are around them disappeared. Their eyes met, forest green and sky blue, and drank in the other, committing it all to memory. Her fingers found the back of Lisa's neck then, pulling her down as she stood on her toes to reach her lips. Her Lili, her sweet, gentle Lili, was still hers.

"I love you so much," Lisa told her as they broke apart, time visibly slipping away as the line to board the train grew shorter and the hands on the clock spun. Her doe eyes shimmered with fresh tears, but she smiled at her.

"I love you too, babe."

Then Lisa was dashing up the steps and through the open door of the train. She watched, following on the other side, as she raced passed the windows until she finally found an open seat. She mouthed the word ocean as the train shuddered and started forward, her hand pressed against the glass. Lisa raised a hand but couldn't bring herself to wave as the train pulled out of the station, tears now streaming freely down her cheeks.

**

For years she waited, hoping and watching. She jumped every time the phone rang and held her breath every time a new piece of mail was slipped into the mailbox with the catalogues and odd letters from her parents in Chicago.

She kept a jar on top of the fridge that she filled with spare change when there was any to be found, which wasn't often. Her job at the diner didn't pay all that well. Yet still she clung to the hope that someday he would be home, and they would open that jar, which was nearly full now, and spend every cent on two roundtrip train tickets for the most luxurious of passenger trains and meals at fancy restaurants where famous film stars dined comfortably on the West Coast. Even as two Christmases came and went, she waited.

Lisa had never been one to break a promise.

Though as the third Christmas approached, she began to wonder whether or not she was being logical. Save once or twice, she had never written back even as she continued to send a letter out every Monday. Some nights she lain awake for hours, just staring at the ceiling. Leo and Kum slept on the floor near her, which provided minimal comfort, but it wasn't the same as having Lisa beside her. She missed her flowery scent and her big doe eyes.

So it came as a surprise when she heard the rumble of an approaching car outside the house in the early fall of 2035. She had been in the middle of folding the laundry in the bedroom when the noise floated through the open window beside her.

Lisa.

Her heart fluttered as she stood, smoothing her skirt and running for the door when she heard it: a knock. She paused at the foot of the stairs, the two figures on the other side visible through the window set into the door.

Stories she had overheard in the diner told her all she needed to know. For years, she had hoped that, of all things, this moment would never be one she would encounter. She could feel her throat growing thick and her eyes becoming hot. She took a shuddering breath and opened the door, setting her jaw as she gazed at the two men standing on the porch.

"Jennie Kim?"

She nodded wordlessly, seeing but not hearing.

"We have been asked to inform you that Ms. Manoban..."

The image of the change jar flashed through her mind, never to be spent on two roundtrip train tickets for the most luxurious of passenger trains and meals at fancy restaurants where famous film stars dined comfortably on the West Coast. Their adopted children, Leo specifically, who waited by the door for Lisa every afternoon around the time she would have arrived home from work three years ago.

"We extend to you and her family our deepest sympathy..."

One of the men held a paper package out to her. Only then did she notice how young they were, barely older than boys. They couldn't have been older than Lisa had been when she left. She took the package gently and went back into the house, closing the door behind her even as the men continued to stare after her, clearly taken by surprise.

Her eyes glazed over with tears as she took the package into the kitchen and ripped it open with a pair of scissors. She gently pulled the fabric free, a sob leaving her lips. Her thumb found the collar, where she had sewn the letters L.M. in black thread, swearing as the needle pierced her skin now and then, Lisa watching her from where she sat on the floor with a book in her lap.

She pulled the jacket on, taking comfort in the way the lingering familiar scent of vanilla and roses surrounded her. She pulled it tighter around herself as she walked through the quiet house. She stopped at a framed picture on the wall near the stairs. It was she and Lisa on their (secret) wedding day not quite four years before, both smiling and oblivious to what was to come.

"You kept your promise," she whispered to the picture.