To say it's time to move on is easy, to actually start leaving your past behind; that is a lot harder.
It's been a few months now since Maddie came to live with the Walkers and slowly, she has begun to find her footing in the family. She's hiding a...
'Down here Uncle Liam.' Maddie shouted back as she pulled another box down from the shelf. A moment later Liam appeared at the top of the staircase leading down into the cellar. 'What's up?'
'I've got to head into town, something's come up. You'll be okay here by yourself?'
'I'll be fine. Will you be back in time to take me to the Side Step before my shift?'
'Damn... I forgot about that.' He remarked as he looked down at his watch. 'Probably not-'
'That's okay.' The box, not being the one she was looking for, was placed back onto the shelf and she turned to him. 'I'll get Colton to drive me in. I'll see you later tonight.'
'Alright. Bye kiddo.'
'Bye.'
Liam disappeared again, Maddie left alone once more in the damp and silence of the cellar as she kept searching through her mothers things. As she went over another shelf she took her phone from her pocket and after having a quick chat with Colton, had arranged with him to pick her up a little later in the afternoon before he headed into Austin himself to the bar. When she'd gotten off the call she went over to the other side of the cellar and finally, hidden away in a dark corner behind some of Mawline's crates of preserves, she located the box she had been looking for.
Her eyes misted slightly as she placed the lid aside and ran her fingers gently over the dress and jacket that lay inside. It was the outfit her mother used to wear when she'd perform at concerts; her favorite outfit. It had been special to Macey for it had been her mother who had sewn it from scratch. A gift for her when she'd gotten her first big performance and though her mother had plenty of outfits she'd worn over the years, this had been her favorite of all. Dress
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Jacket (something similar)
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Maddie could remember a time when she had been little, being at a concert and watching her mother on stage wearing this very outfit. If she closed her eyes and concentrated real hard, she could still envision in her mind how her mother had looked that day. Golden blond hair in loose curls cascading down her back, her blue eyes searching through the crowd to where she sat. In her four year old mind, there had been no one as beautiful as her mother. She looked like an angel seated there in front of the microphone with her guitar rested on her knee as she sang.
