The Sun and Moon and Stars

Chapter XX

Frances nodded and took a quick sip of water. "Of course he was. The stories he told were just fairytales. Just like any sort of limerick you enjoy, Father."

His face relaxed and he took and he took a bite of his roast. "So, what are your plans, now that you've returned?"

Mrs. Barrett gently slapped his arm. "Richard!"

"What?"

"She's only just returned. Let her have a few days to acclimate herself."

"She'll have a few days, but she should still be thinking about it. Not that I wouldn't want her to simply stay at home and help you and Harriet prepare for the wedding, but we both know Frances won't be happy spending her days doing just that. Isn't that right, Frances?"

Frances paused and straightened her utensils beside her plate. "Well, actually, I think it may, in fact, be a good thing for me to, you know, focus on something outside of myself. In fact."

"But you must have plans of some sort?"

"No. Not really." Frances frowned. "I did have a plan back in Malborrow Creek, for what I would do when Mrs. Fellowes past away, but now I'm not so sure."

"Are you sure, dear?" her mother asked, her eyes filled with concern. "You left home so determined to move on past Owen's death. Do you think it wise to surround yourself with things that could possibly remind you of what happened?"

Frances gritted her jaw. "I'll be fine, Mother. I honestly, wouldn't even have thought of Owen had you not brought him up."

Her mother leaned back. "Oh. Well, I'm sorry I did. Please disregard my words."

"It's alright."

Harriet rolled her eyes. "Oh, leave her alone. The poor girl has barely stepped off the train. Let her do what she wants, even if it absolutely nothing." She reached over the table and grabbed her sister's hand. "Frances, I would love to have you help out with the wedding. If you don't want to, if it would be too difficult, I completely understand."

Frances smiled at her youngest sister. "I helped Patricia and Amelia. I will help you as well. What are sisters for? Besides, you only have me. The others had at least two helpers apiece."

Harriet smiled and nodded with approval, her golden curls bouncing around her shoulders.

Just like Winnie's. Frances frowned. Her throat tightened.

"I'm sorry." She stood up. "All of a sudden, I'm not feeling well." She tried to swallow the marble in her throat. "I think I'll retire for the night. Please thank Cuppie for the meal."

She threw her napkin over her plate and rushed out of the room.

***

Frances sat in the parlor, a needle in hand as she embroidered blue thread onto the inside of Harriet's wedding gloves. When she was done with it, it would be a beautiful rose, shaded with several shades of blue and turquoise.

She could hear Harriet and mother discussing linens in the other sitting room. Father was most likely puffing away at a pipe in his study and the boys had been gone all morning to school. Classes had just begun.

And then she saw her, walking along the sidewalk. Patricia, smiling at her through the glass.

Frances through down the gloves and rushed to the door. Her older sister lifted her skirt and rushed for the gate, a hand on her large hat.

"Frances!"

"Patricia!"

The girls met in an embrace of ruffles and Patricia's hat flew off. Frances caught it before it could end up in the street gutters.

"What are you doing here?" Frances asked, handing the hat back.

Patricia smiled brightly as they hooked arms and walked up the front stairs. "To see my favorite sister of course."

Frances chuckled. "Don't let Harriet hear you say that."

Patricia shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Oh, she knows."

"Patricia! You're here!" Mrs. Barrett appeared in the doorway.

Patricia laughed. "I am? I just came to see my little sister. I heard she was back sometime last week, but haven't had the chance to escape the children until this morning. Is it okay if I steal her away for a bit? I though we'd take a stroll in the park."

Mrs. Barrett nodded. "That should be fine. As long as you promise to stay for dinner afterwards."

Patricia winked. "I wouldn't miss Cuppie's cooking for the world. Now, go get ready." She pushed Frances inside.

She quickly grabbed a walking hat and a shawl and was back out within a minute.

The two girls walked back down the steps and across the street. The park was centered in the middle of the neighborhood, bordered on all four sides by street and then a wall of homes.

Patricia and Frances found a bench and took a seat.

"I'm not going to pretend that this isn't what it is," Patricia said after a moment. "Mother and Father called me, asking if I could speak to you."

"What?" Frances frowned.

"They're worried about you. Frankly, I'M worried about you. I heard you had returned on your first morning here. I didn't want to rush you, so I waited for you to call me to visit, but you never did. Why not?"

"I-I've been busy?"

"No, you haven't. Not that busy. And don't argue with me. Mother has filled me in about all the things you've done since you've been home and unfortunately, a lot of it consists of you looking out of windows and sighing when you think no one is around and crying yourself to sleep."

Frances looked down at her hands. "What do you want me to say?"

"What about the truth?" Patricia leaned in close. Frances could smell the flowery soap in her black hair. "Look at me, Frances?"

Frances did. Patricia was pale with reddened lips and bright blue eyes. Really the complete opposite of Frances. "I am worried about you. I've been with you all of five minutes and I can already tell that something isn't right. Even without anyone telling me, I'd notice."

"You want me to be honest? This isn't my home. Not anymore. I get startled when people recognize me on the streets. I feel like a cousin or a guest in Mother and Father's house. I haven't even unpacked my bags and I can't even imagine using the clothing still hanging in my wardrobe from before I left."

Patricia leaned back. "You haven't fully returned from wherever you were."

"Malborrow Creek."

"Pardon?"

"That's the town. Malborrow Creek."

"Oh. Well, part of your mind is still there."

"I know. I've known since the second I got on the train to return. But I can't go back to retrieve it. I can't go back ever."

"Why not?" Patricia nearly whispered. "What was so bad about that place?"

Frances looked up and met her sister's eyes. "I didn't leave my mind there, Patricia. Not even my soul. I left a piece of my heart with the Fellowes family. And I'll never get it back. Because even if I did summon the courage and the lack of honor needed to return, I wouldn't be able to find it."

"Why not?"

"Because it is at the bottom of a whiskey bottle and a pond."