ELLIE52 Posted March 19, 2018 Share Posted March 19, 2018 So many secrets to uncover in this trilogy. This is the old triple insanity ploy, right? Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 20, 2018 Author Share Posted March 20, 2018 10. I just can’t. By the time we'd finished setting the table there was the flashing of headlights through the dining room window signifying that Cohen had arrived home. "Excuse me, Lottie." I smiled and opened the front door, walking out across the cobblestone path to the car parked in the drive. The trunk was open and I began to bundle up bags in my arms, smiling at my wife. "How has she been?" "She's been a joy. She's certainly youthful for her age, though, isn't she? I feel a little foolish." "We'll talk about that later, after I put her down to bed." She was picking up bags now and I smiled, bemused. "Put her down to bed? She's twenty, Cohen." "I know. But I spent a rather joyous shopping trip with Alex Ornette and she believes that Lottie might be better served by us continuing to take care of her as a child. It gives her stability when her world was broken, and helps to reestablish trust, which is something she'll have issues with." I nodded in thought and we continued back toward the house. "Very well." "She could pass as one of your students, you know." "Which would be entirely unprofessional." "And could help her make leaps and strides towards getting better." We both looked up at the girl who'd taken to standing in the doorway and Cohen broke into a smile. "Hey there, gum-drop. You hungry?" I wasn't sure if it was the conditioning, but I beamed when Cohen complimented the table setting. We'd all taken our seats when Cohen laid out the containers of Chinese food. Chinese food. My eyes lit up as I started to fill my plate before Cohen had even taken her seat. Emerson smiled across the table at me and I slowed my pace. No hurry, Lottie. I waited, plate full, for Cohen to sit and cover her plate with food before digging in. “Mm… real chicken…" It had been so long since I had food with flavor. "Real chicken? As opposed to virtual chicken?" I grinned and watched the young girl eating her food with gusto and delight, and it was hard not to find her altogether endearing. If what Alex had said was true, then we would be doing our best work for Lottie by indulging her in a very stripped back and basic way. Simple delights, lots of praise and encouragement. "So, gum-drop, before I go to work tonight would you like me to find you that Amazon gift card? You can use my old laptop if you want." "Well, I usually only get chicken nuggets or macaroni or something. I can't even remember the last time I had food with flavor." And the Chinese really did have flavor! Even the rice tasted better than anything I'd eaten in months. Milk and hot dogs weren't exactly the most flavorful things in the world. "That sounds really nice, about the gift card." Though I'd have to overnight everything. Three days. "Fantastic." I looked across the table and took a breath; I hadn't cleared this with Emerson yet - in fact, I was sure he pretty much said all but no when we came into the house, but I decided to suggest it anyway. "You know, if you wanted to, once you settle in a little bit more, you could go to school where Emerson works. It could be good to try and get your mind on track again." It was almost certain that Emerson wouldn't like the idea, especially after what he'd said earlier, but he smiled and nodded in agreement. "You could, if you like, child. The work might bore you, but for rebuilding trust it could be good to start with children before adults. They have a special quality of rekindling your faith in people. You'd blend right in, too." Once I settled in? "Um… I appreciate it… but no thank you. I don't expect I'll be here that long, really." I looked back down at the table and played with my food with my chopsticks. I wasn't very adept with them, but I liked trying new things. That, and I had no idea where the silverware was in this house. "I mean, I really should start finding a place to… work or something, you know?" My voice was small, though. I didn't want to leave here, but I was putting these nice people in danger. I couldn't stay. "And how long do you think you'll be here, gum-drop?" I took a bite of honey chicken and watched her with curious eyes, the girl nervous at the question. Emerson noticed it, too, clearly and smiled with that teachers-smile he worked so well. "Do you have somewhere better to be, child? To be honest, we've both come quite attached to you. You're an adult and free to go if you prefer, but know that whatever happened, whoever hurt you, they'll never find you. The road that leads down here from the main isn't even on a map." "There's no pressure, Lottie. But we do like having you here, and we'll take care of you." "I… I know, I just can't…" I felt my stomach turn and my thumb went instinctively to my lips. The taste hit hard on my taste buds but the anxiety outweighed the unpleasantness. I was so hungry when Cohen walked in the door, and suddenly, I just wasn't anymore. Granted, I did eat a lot before the conversation took that turn. I didn't know. It was hard to think about. I pulled the thumb out of my mouth and climbed up out of my chair. "I'm just going to go play with those trains, if you don't mind…" They both shook their heads and I headed out of the kitchen. Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 20, 2018 Author Share Posted March 20, 2018 11. I’m tired. "Think she'll run?" "I don't doubt it,” Emerson said. We waited for the girl to be entirely out of earshot before beginning that particular conversation. "Whoever hurt her… do you think she's afraid they'll come for her again?" I asked. "Mm. I suspect so. But then why wouldn't she want to be here? We're able to guarantee her safety." "Maybe it's not her safety she's worried about. Maybe it's ours?" There was an uneasy pause for a while and I stood up, kissing my husband on the cheek. "I'll go talk to her." And that's what I did; I wandered into the living room and sat down on the floor next to Lottie. "I want to know who you're running from, Lottie. Please?" I just shook my head. Just from earlier today and the time it took Cohen to join me in the living room, I'd built a sizable circuit around the room with many different paths. I still hadn't found a train yet, though I'd only opened one of the boxes. I put another piece of track into place, starting a second line next to the first. I wasn't sure why - maybe for a second train route. Though I had no trains and no place for them to go. They'd just go in circles… "There are trains in that box, there." I motioned with a smile and used the most soothing, child-friendly tone I could muster, the sort I used when I was talking to animals in surgery, even though they couldn't understand the words. Tone meant everything. "Want to see the very first train I got when I was a little girl?" I really wanted to be able to reach out and connect with Lottie, to find a common ground, but so far she'd only rebuffed my attempts. I got it, trust and all that. "Sure." In no way did I think the topic was dropped, but it was nice to have something else to talk about. I couldn't tell her the truth. I wished I could, but I'd be tormented. Even if she didn't call the police, I'd always have the fear that she would. I wouldn't be able to sleep. I would have to leave. So I ignored the problem and instead watched as Cohen opened the box of toys and picked out one of the trains. It took a few minutes of gently shifting the wooden trains around before I pulled out the little pink train and tender, holding it up with a guilty smile. "So… my parents were very big on gender norms and standards, and when I told them I wanted toy trains, Mom went out of her way to find a pink one. It's really cute, and a lovely gesture, but it's far from my favorite one." I set it down on the track and attached a number of white carriages behind it. I pulled out a train of my own - just a normal wooden one - and pushed it along the tracks. It wasn't nearly as fun as building the tracks, though, and so I went back to putting together an interior line. Cohen watched me for a long while, quiet, maybe hoping I'd say something, but I didn't have anything to say. I couldn't talk to her about what had happened. I couldn't talk to anyone. "If you decide to go, would you tell us first? I'd like to be able to say goodbye if you do, is all." I picked out a few pairs of junction tracks and smiled. "I like these ones, because you can switch between three different tracks like this, see?" I showed the simple motion of the junction and set down the tracks. "Do you like other trains? Emerson has some lego trains downstairs." "Yeah, I just like trains. I don't really care what kind. I like building tracks, Hot Wheel's tracks too." My skirting Cohen's question was entirely obvious. We both knew what that meant. I wouldn't tell them. I wasn't sure I could bear it. Three days and I'd be gone, and they couldn't know. I'd thank them of course, maybe a note. I wanted them to know all they'd done for me, but I didn't want to say goodbye. I couldn't. "You know there's a steam train museum a few towns over, maybe an hour’s drive. Emerson took his class there for a field trip last year and the kids adored it. You get to climb on the trains and there's one that does a few hour round trip, and there's an entire section of the museum with toy trains that you can build. Wanna go there tomorrow, just you and me?" I didn't want to contribute too much to her track layout; she seemed really interested in that element. "You know, it's mostly boys into trains and toy cars and stuff. But I think it's really cool that you are." I stopped, just for a second. One of the track pieces was still in my hands and the train had rolled to a stop long ago. I set the piece of track down on the carpet and climbed up to my feet, walking out of the room, tossing back a casual "I'm tired". By the time I reached the top of the stairs, my terrible tasting thumb was in my mouth. My head was spinning. She didn't know anything. You worry too much, Lottie. I dressed myself in the lavender nightgown - I shouldn't have, realistically; it was bad to hold onto something like this. But I needed comfort, and it made me so warm deep down. 2 Link to comment
ELLIE52 Posted March 20, 2018 Share Posted March 20, 2018 Ummm.... so I finished reading the download. I had moments of intense hate for Calibeen. I may discuss them later as the chapters reveal themselves. All in all this is a very good story. I hope some others will read and comment. Thanks! Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 20, 2018 Author Share Posted March 20, 2018 Anytime Ellie! I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm trying to put the chapters up as quickly as I can while also working on other projects! Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 21, 2018 Author Share Posted March 21, 2018 12. Red. Emerson stood in the doorway of the living room and I looked up at him pensively, frowning a little. "I'm not sure what happened…" "Would you like me to talk to her?" "No, I think it's probably best that I do." "If you're sure." I nodded and stood up, wandering up the stairs and finding my way to her bedroom. She was laying on the bed in the purple nightgown with the lamp on and I sat on the edge of the bed. "It's a really pretty color. Your nightgown, I mean." "Thanks. I like it too." The bedroom light was already off, though I had the bedside lamp on, illuminating the colored cloth in my hand. I couldn't stop fiddling with it. This purple. My purple. The only thing in the world that was mine, colored for me, a branding more personal than my name. It was all I had now. Even Cohen and Emerson wouldn't last, but this nightgown could. "You like purple, huh? Maybe we could buy you some other purple things. I've got a purple top you might like?" She shook her head though, and I thought about it for a moment longer. "No? It's okay gum-drop. I think that's a really pretty purple. A pretty purple for a pretty girl." That made her look up at me pensively and I gingerly ran my fingers through her hair. "You know, we should dye your hair. We could put purple streaks in it. Plus then you'd look way different to normal." My currently running theory was that she was still running from something, and the innocent suggestion of dying her hair might actually help to diminish that fear. Dye my hair? I looked up at Cohen with obvious consideration, and finally I nodded. I could dye my hair. It wouldn't be a perfected disguise, but it was something. And she was offering to do it for me - something I would never be able to figure out on my own, and probably something I couldn't do without a proper bathroom. "Red. I want red hair." Something completely different from my usual brown hair color; maybe then I could even go out in public. "Red? Okay. Okay!" I smiled happily and crossed my legs underneath myself, smiling giddily at the thought. "What shade of red do you think you want? Like, a subtle red or something really bright and charming?" I'd probably have to bleach first, but it wasn't outside of my capabilities. "I had a phase when I was midway through my teens and I dyed my hair a different color every week, because I couldn't deal with being teased for being a ginger. I'm not even a ginger anyway, its auburn. Auburn, gum-drop." Though I did have freckles and pale skin. I shrugged my shoulders. "Anything different than my hair, but natural looking." It wouldn't make a lot of sense to dye my hair an obvious hair dye color - this was a disguise, after all. And maybe, if I looked different enough, I could even go to that train place Cohen was telling me about. It wouldn't be tomorrow, though - we'd have to get my hair dyed first. But it would certainly be a wonderful last day with Cohen… "Okay, well on my way home from work I'll get some supplies. I want you to have a really good bath or shower tonight, get your hair super clean before sleep and that way I can dye it straight away when I get home." I looked up at the clock on the wall and thought about the time left before I had to start work. "I can draw you a bath if you like. Wash your hair. Get you all squeaky clean? I've got time before work." "I can do it." Cohen looked a little disappointed but gave me a smile anyhow. I waited until she went to work before taking a shower, washing my hair as best I could. After drying off and changing back into my purple nightgown I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to imagine myself with red hair. It would certainly be different, and maybe I could cut it or something. Though it was already quite short and any shorter might make me look like a boy. I wasn't sure why I was so against the idea, but I really was. "All ready for bed, Lottie?" Cohen had already left for work. I stood in the doorway of the bedroom, not presumptuous enough to enter a girl’s bedroom without her permission. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, the hand mirror from the top drawer in her grasp as she looked at it from various angles, pursing her lips as fluffing her hair. "Cohen told me you're going to color your hair tomorrow. Red, right? I think that will look nice." "Uh huh, I hope so." I wasn't sure why, but Emerson seemed so much easier to talk to. Maybe that was because he wasn't trying to help me. Cohen was so compassionate and so caring, and while those attributes made me feel desired, it also meant dealing with her wanting to fix my problems, and that wasn't an option. So it left me with Emerson, who while as kind as his wife, very rarely pried. "May I?" She nodded and I came into the room, sitting down on the vanity stool with a warm smile. "If you decide to leave us one day, there is some money in an envelope behind the painting on the mantle. Better that you take it and find somewhere to call home than to try and manage alone." Lottie looked taken aback and she opened her mouth to respond, but I ensured the conversation had already moved along by that point. "Would you like me to read to you before bed?" It was an arbitrary offer, one I suspected I knew the answer to, but it was something I dreamed of doing with our own child when old enough and thought that it might be something we could both enjoy. I let out a little sigh and curled up in bed, my hair nearly dry by now. I wished he hadn't offered, because I'd take it. I'd burdened the couple so much already, and here I was going to steal from them too. I wished so badly that he hadn't told me… "Yeah, alright…" It was the least I could do. And even if he hadn't given up the hiding place, I might've said yes anyway. It only took me a few minutes to return after I'd left the bedroom, a leather-bound book under my arm. I set it down on the bedside and drew back the covers, turning down the comforter over the sheets the way I had last night with a smile. "Slip in under the covers, child. Get comfortable now." The book wasn't anything special: a collection of short stories written for children in the 1950's, a gift handed down to me from my own father. They were aimed at the ten to twelve age range, in a time before widespread television adoption. "I'm going to read you one of my favorites from when I was a child. It's about a boy who runs away from home and lives in boxcars as he travels across the country." I fully expected Emerson's story to be a lesson for me - something about how I shouldn't run away, about how the open road is dangerous and it's best to stay at home where it's safe. But that wasn't what the story was about: just a boy and his adventures. And if anything, it made leaving sound more appealing. Maybe that was his angle. Maybe he knew how scared I was, too. I never did know how the story ended, though. My eyes betrayed me a half hour in and my thumb slipped between my lips. I'd overcome the distaste in under a day, and a minute later, I fell asleep next to Emerson. Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 23, 2018 Author Share Posted March 23, 2018 13. I don’t know. "The best we can manage is giving her some money, a cell and a backpack with whatever clothes she buys and remind her that she can always come back." It was something we'd both given thought throughout the night, and I knew Emerson's advice was about the best thing we could do. It wouldn't be easy to see her go, though, and I knew she would. "You're right. I know you're right. I'm going to wake her up and get her hair colored. You wanna make some breakfast?" He nodded and I made my way up the stairs, taking the supplies and a number of towels into the bathroom before sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Hey gum-drop." I whimpered and tugged the blanket up over my head. My sleeping schedule was strange. The night before, I'd gone to bed just after eight, which meant my waking up at six in the morning wasn't so scary. But it was only half an hour until Emerson had to leave for work and Cohen shouldn't even have been home. She only had Wednesdays off, and Emerson obviously had the weekends. Usually while one was at work, the other was asleep, but since my arrival one day prior, things were starting to change. "Come on, let's get your hair bleached first, and then we'll go down and have breakfast. Emerson is baking a full English breakfast; it's one of his specialties." She still seemed barely conscious and I had to tug the blanket down a little before she'd even properly open her eyes. I had my curls up in a neat bun the way I did on most nights during work, and still had my glasses on. I only ever wore them for work, though; they weren't to my taste at all. I sighed and sat up, my hair a mess, and covered my eyes with my arms at the sunlight in the window. It was clearly summer to have the sun up at six in the morning. "You're worse than my mom…" I sulked out of bed and tugged down at my nightgown. My thumb had little bite marks throughout the night planted solidly on the edges. I couldn't remember that ever happening, even before running away. "I'll take that as a compliment, gum-drop." I smiled and took note of the girl examining her thumb curiously. I'd had the mattress protector fitted under the sheets when the girl had showered last night, though it seemed as though she'd kept the bed dry. "I'd gladly be your mom; she's lucky to have such a wonderful daughter." And she was, too. I was quickly becoming attached to the idea of Lottie as a daughter figure in our life, even though I knew it was wrong to think of her that way. "Yeah, I wish she saw it that way…" It was only the next moment, though, that I realized exactly how badly I needed to use the bathroom! I quickly hurried through the bedroom and across the hall, closing the door behind me. It was only a minute later I opened the door again, Cohen right outside. The memory of wetting the bed the other night rushed back, but I didn't feel the shame. Rather, I felt pride. Maybe the bedwetting thing was something that I really had left behind. I couldn't help it. I wrapped my arms around the girl and cuddled her tight, beaming with pride. "I'm really proud of you, gum-drop." I didn't mention the bedwetting directly, but it was clear that I was referring to it. And cuddling her like that was probably premature and overdoing it, but that she'd made it to the bathroom did make me really proud of her! "Yeah, yeah…" I tried to play it off, but the pride was undeniable. Even though I was clearly too old to wet the bed, the fact that I'd kept my bed dry one night was… something. Definitely something. "So are we gonna do this?" The bleach was still on the bathroom counter - it was an observation I hadn't missed - so I stepped back into the room and turned the light back on. Cohen followed me in and I stepped in front of the mirror. Goodbye brown hair. "I used to love the smell of bleach. It's the smell of change, cleansing and washing away the old and bringing in the new." I pulled the vanity stool in from the bedroom and had Lottie sit down so I could get to work on her hair. It was pretty exhausted, but I knew from experience this part would take about half an hour - in which time we'd eat - and then another half hour to color. I didn't like the idea of sleeping when Lottie was here on her own, though, the fear of her running off ever present. The bleach smelled terrible; I wasn't sure how anyone could love the smell. And by the end of it, my hair wrapped in plastic wrap, I was very unsure of this whole hair dying process, but it could help disguise me so I didn't complain. I followed Cohen out of the bathroom and the dreadful smell, trailing her down the steps with my thumb in my mouth. It wasn't that I was particularly anxious - I just didn't notice sometimes. When we got to the dining room, I pulled a chair out for Lottie and she took a seat before I pushed it in and sat in my usual chair. Emerson set down three plates of breakfast - eggs on toast, bacon, sausage, mushroom, beans and hashbrowns - at each of our places. He noted the girl sucking her thumb absent-mindedly and shot me a look to which I nodded softly, but neither of us said anything about it. "Thanks, love. This is amazing." Emerson smiled and took his seat, looking from Lottie to me and then back again. "I hope you both enjoy it,” he said. "It looks really good." Maybe it was the contrast against the bleach smell, but the scent of the food made my mouth water. I wasn't particularly hungry, but I it seemed so delicious. This was one of many instances where my eyes were bigger than my stomach and I piled the food onto my plate. "I love this." My smile was blissful, my mouth full of eggs. I actually had variety here! "I'm glad." The idea that there could be enough reason given to the girl to stay was something that had certainly crossed my mind as I took a bite of my food. Emerson looked at her and smiled, taking neat bites of his own food and finishing before speaking. "I hear you and Cohen are going to hit the Rail Museum? I think you'll enjoy it quite a bit. I bought a gift for you online this morning, by the way. I know you have the Amazon card to spend on nice things, but this was an impulse buy. I think you'll enjoy it." I looked up at my husband cautiously; we both knew full well that she might not even be here by the time it arrived, but I guess it was worthwhile trying to tempt her. "Oh… yeah. Um… thank you." But would I still be here when they gave it to me? The average shipping for most everywhere in the U.S. was three to five days, right? But I only had two. I wasn't about to let my thoughts spoil another good meal, though; I'd done that twice now. Even without the negative thoughts, I still couldn't finish all the food on my plate. I finally gave up and smiled happily at Emerson. "That was really good. Thank you so much." "You're quite welcome." Emerson was never one to show too much pride, but he was pretty pleased with the reception of his favorite breakfast. "Hey, gum-drop? I was wondering how you wound up out here? You're from Virginia, right? It's a long way to come without anything to your name but a purple nightgown." We both knew the dangers of pushing her too far, but I figured the line of questioning was casual enough; she'd told me her situation was 'something like Rikki's', but even Rikki's kidnappers hadn't taken her across the state line. "Not really sure…" It wasn't a lie. I was in the back of a van with no windows for a very long time. If they took me all the way to South Dakota in that van, I didn't know. I fell asleep very often and I was completely alone. "I was in the car… a van, actually. And it didn't have any windows, so… I don't know. Maybe that car…" I sipped at the orange juice on the table. "And who were they? The people who assaulted you?" Knowing that she was twenty meant that I was more comfortable talking directly about what had happened, although I was still cautious for fear of pushing too far. "Do you remember anything about what they look like?" Emerson stayed quiet, contemplative with his fingers steepled beneath his chin. It was unusual for Lottie to be as open to talking as she was right now, and I was hoping we could actually start to piece together what had happened. I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at my fingers, playing with them in my lap. I knew a lot about the people who 'assaulted me', but I didn't have any information for Cohen and Emerson. So I shook my head and looked at the clock. Emerson would have to go soon; maybe then this conversation could end. Cohen would need some sleep and I could go back to my trains. Link to comment
Baby Billy Posted March 24, 2018 Share Posted March 24, 2018 Sophie that was another great chapter. I have been reading all 3 stories at the same time and just realized this week that they are part of one trilogy. Velvet being in the past and Lottie in the future of Audrey and Staycee. Love that concept Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 26, 2018 Author Share Posted March 26, 2018 Sophie that was another great chapter. I have been reading all 3 stories at the same time and just realized this week that they are part of one trilogy. Velvet being in the past and Lottie in the future of Audrey and Staycee. Love that concept I'm glad you're enjoying it!! A&S is officially done being posted! I'm trying to get Lottie up as quickly as I can, but it's got a lot of chapters. And Velvet is slow going. But I hope you appreciate the three together. (More Lottie coming soon, promise. Hopefully tonight.) Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 26, 2018 Author Share Posted March 26, 2018 14. That’s my color. "You don't have to talk about it if it's difficult." I looked across the table at Emerson after he spoke, and those words seemed to be the best thing Lottie had heard all day. She smiled a little and Emerson continued. "Anything you feel like you want to tell us, you can. And you may write down anything you find too hard to say out loud on the notepad in my desk." Then he looked at me. "You should finish her hair, my sweet. You'll be tired soon." Oh yeah, my hair was still in plastic wrap. I had completely forgotten, though I supposed the other two hadn't; a glance in the mirror and I'd have remembered too. I gave Emerson another thank you and wished him a good day at work before Cohen took me up the stairs by the hand and into the bathroom. "So what do I do? Just shower, right?" I'd never done this before. I shook my head and motioned to the vanity stool. "Just sit on that and lean backwards so your head is over the tub." I reached up and took the detachable shower head on its hose with a smile. "You're going to be adorable, Lottie. You'll be fighting off all the boys." Probably all the twelve year old boys, based on her appearance. That notion brought a smile to my face. "Where were you going, when I found you, gum-drop?" I shrugged my shoulders and sat down on the vanity, though by the time my head was over the tub it was much more like lying down. It was a very disorientating position. "I don't know. I'd just gotten away; I was just trying to get anywhere but there, you know?" The warm water hit my head and the strange sensations became even more obvious. Dying hair was certainly a surreal experience. "And if you could be anywhere right now, where would it be?" It might have come across as a loaded question by virtue of the fact that it could be construed as me asking where she intended to run to next, but she also didn't know that I was aware of her intent to run, so it might have gone over her head. "I mean, you probably don't wanna stay here with two boring people like us forever, right? We're just two over-doting twenty-somethings who desperately want a child and you're kind of filling that role for us right now. That can't be too appealing." "Yeah… I guess not…" The silence lingered until Cohen turned the water off, leaving my hair entirely soaked through and very dull blonde. I had nearly forgotten Cohen's question when she finally said, "So?" "Oh… where I'd be if I could?" She nodded and I shrugged my shoulders, biting the tip of my thumb. The nail polish was already chipped off in most places on that nail. "I don't know. I guess another country, maybe. I've always wanted to go to London…" "We went there for our honeymoon, Emerson and I. It was very lovely; the people there are different, but they're nice and courteous, not in quite as much of a rush as those back in Chicago. It was driving through the countryside there made us want to buy this house, actually." I started to gently towel the excess water off the girl’s shoulders and neck, tussling her hair with a satisfied smile. "Yeah? Maybe London then… I like the idea of a place where everything is slow and quiet, like here." I saw the parallels. They went to London to buy this house and this house was making me want to go to London. Maybe that's how fate worked. Still, I would be very unhappy leaving these people. I'd come to really cherish them in the day and a half we'd been together. I played with the hem of my nightgown while Cohen dried my hair, lightening in color with every less drop of water. "So what's with the nightgown? I meant to ask. I see the way you look at it, how careful you are when wearing it, the fact that you smile a little brighter when you wear it. Is there a story there?" She was talking to me, actually finally talking and opening up, and that made me really very happy, as though she trusted me. And trust could mean the difference between her staying and her running. "It's the last thing I have that's my color." She wouldn't understand the significance, but it was nice to talk about. "This particular shade of purple. It's mine, and I don't have anything else that's this color anymore. I had to leave all that behind if I wanted to get away, so it's gone now… and just this nightgown is left." She looked as confused as I thought she would - what would a color mean to someone anyway? If only I could explain… "You know, Emerson has this little thing that you hold in your hand, and you press it to something and it gives you the exact shade of the color. We used it when we were decorating because we wanted our bedsheets to be the exact same color as the color of my hair. Want me to get it for you?" Her eyes were wide even as I spoke about it, and by the time I stood up she looked as though she might jump out of her skin. I didn't get why it was her color or what that meant, but I guess I didn't need to. I felt dizzy with excitement. She had a device that could pick out my exact color?! My color?! We could get things made for me in my color?! I didn't wait for Cohen, though - I raced after her, only a half-step behind, nearly hanging off her arm all the way down the steps. She went into the office - a room I had only been in once - and went through Emerson's drawers. I bounced anxiously at her side, shifting from foot to foot in anticipation. "Here it is." I smiled and held up a device that looked like an oversized digital label maker. "You press it to the color, then pull this trigger here." I motioned to the trigger and smiled. "And then you use the knob on the top to select Hex, RGB, CMYK or Pantone for the color type. You can write down all four, though." She took it from my hands and looked at the little thirty dollar gadget like it was the holy grail. "Go on. Try it out." I took a deep breath, looking from Cohen to the little gadget in my hand and back to Cohen again. She smiled and motioned to my dress. I took the device, set to hex, and pushed it against the nightgown. I pushed the little button in the middle and the screen read '#D15FEE'. It looked familiar, though the last time I saw that sequence was on a tablet in a very fancy office. Again, I pressed it to another part of the dress, and the screen repeated '#D15FEE'. And my shoulder, '#D15FEE'. And my chest, '#D15FEE'. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, looking up at Cohen in disbelief. Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 27, 2018 Author Share Posted March 27, 2018 15. Someone else. She was clearly far more impressed than I had been, and it made me smile to see her so giddy and excited. "It's a really pretty color, Lottie. Was it your favorite color as a child? You said it was your color, right?" She was absorbed in scanning her nightgown, though. I was elated. I was almost sure that I'd never been as happy as I was in that moment. I knew my color! I was tingling all over; I didn't even know what to do with that kind of joy. "No. It was the only thing that kept me safe there, when they took me. I had a color and this one was mine and it made me different, like Clara had yellow. I wasn't like everyone else. It was all I could hold onto…" I kept looking down at the device, memorizing again and again the little digits staring back at me. I’d never forget them. "So you said there were other people there, with the people who did this to you?" She barely looked up as I spoke, continuing to fiddle with the device in her hands. She looked a different person with blonde hair and a genuine smile. She looked happy. Like any other child. I bit my lip, keeping my eyes off of hers. Damnit. "No… I mean… yes… but not… exactly… I don't know. I don't remember." I was clearly lying. I should've just stayed quiet… "Here, this is for you." I didn’t want to return the device - it was, after all, the only thing other than my nightgown that existed with my color - but I needed a change of topic. I smiled and looked down at the toy. I wanted to let it go, but she'd opened Pandora's Box and I decided to push just a little further. "How many of you were there, Lottie? I could write an anonymous letter to the police, maybe, if you could give me some details, get those monsters caught and the others like you rescued." She was shaking her head before I even finished, though, and I frowned a little, trying to figure out exactly what it was she found most objectionable. "I… I don't want to talk about it. I just wanna play… okay?" I frowned and turned on my heel, starting back out into the foyer and through to the living room. Cohen followed me, my shaking visible, until we’d finally made it into the room decorated in toy train tracks. Before I could sit, though, she grabbed my hands. "Hey…" I gently wrapped my hand around Lottie's and adjusted her grip on her own fingers. "Shh, gum-drop. We don't have to talk about it right now. I just want you to know, whatever happened, whatever the truth is, you can tell me and you'll still have a home here. I won't judge you. It won't change how I feel about you. I promise." It might've been rude, and I knew Cohen deserved more, but I completely ignored her speech. I had done a very fair job of keeping my thumb out of my mouth until then, but it quickly took precedent once I’d stepped away from Cohen. I sat down on the couch and worked a pair of tracks together on the coffee table. Cohen watched, but neither of us said a word. It had been ten minutes since either of us had spoken a word, and the word I chose to speak might not have been the best choice. "Clara…" Lottie visibly stiffened. "Was she someone else, maybe a friend of yours from there? You mentioned her and her color being yellow." She didn't say anything though, not at first. She just sat there, stationary, staring at the disconnected tracks of her trains. I felt sick. Clara and I hadn't spoken in months. There was no fall out: one day she was just gone. I didn't know what happened. Maybe she went to another level of the building, I couldn't be sure. But thinking about her brought back too much misery… "Yeah… she was… someone else." I could hardly breathe. The tears came silently, and with my back to Cohen, I knew she didn't notice. So I went back to playing with trains. "Tell me about her?" It was so clear how strong Lottie's feelings were for this girl, but it was… reverence. Like it was a name she wasn't used to saying out loud… or one she avoided doing so as to avoid wearing it out. "Is she still there? With those people who hurt you?" The blonde girl trembled a little more and I watched a tear drop onto the coffee table, glistening in the morning sunlight. I stood up from the couch as quickly as I could and ran from the living room, but my legs were short and it wasn't hard for Cohen to keep up. I was trembling head to toe, hurrying up the stairs, tears streaming down my cheeks and my heart beating like a drum in my ears. I couldn't help it: it was Clara! And I didn't know what they did with her, and I wanted to save her too. I wanted so badly to save her too… She made it to the bedroom, tossing herself onto the bed and bundling up in the covers, shaking and trembling in heaving sobs of sorrow. I cuddled up to her through the covers, my hand pulling them back enough to run my hand through her hair softly and I spoke quiet and calm, the way I did to animals. "Shh now, gum-drop, it's okay. It's going to be okay. You're here and you're safe." Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 27, 2018 Author Share Posted March 27, 2018 16. Don’t tell them. Cohen went to bed shortly after I'd calmed down. I couldn't bear talking to her and the silence exhausted her more than anything else. No matter what she said, I didn't even acknowledge I'd heard her, and after the tenth time offering to finish my hair she finally retired to her room. It wasn't until early afternoon I left my bed and made my way downstairs. I took the sachet of money from behind the picture frame and counted the $1500 in twenties. I wanted to finish dying my hair - I wasn't a fan of the blonde - and I wanted to see that train museum with Cohen. I wanted to thank Emerson for all he'd done, too, but I couldn't. I had to just go. And if the doorbell hadn't rung the second before I reached the door, I would have. But it did, and the foggy images of two men in blue showed through the frosted glass. I slowly stepped back, my heart racing, and hurried up the stairs. More knocks, rougher, louder, until they woke up Cohen. We didn't get very much company out here, and the company we did get was almost never unexpected. I quickly padded down the stairs - noting the presence of the police car though the upstairs window - and motioned for Lottie to step back away from the door and into the kitchen. Where we stood, by the pantry, we weren't visible through any of the windows. I spoke quietly and calmly, in hushed tones. "Go upstairs, stay out of sight. I'll handle this." She looked stunned, and I didn't know why the police would be here, but with the way she'd reacted to us going to the police as a concept I suspected there was an angle we weren't yet aware of. She stared at me and I put my hand on her cheek. "Go." Before calling out loud enough to hear: "Just a minute!~" I shook my head, tears starting down my cheeks, dampening Cohen's hand. "Please… please don't tell them I'm here… please…" I felt sick to my stomach. They'd tell her. I couldn't stay here. I had to find a way out before she opened that door, before she told them I was here. They were going to find me. They'd take me back. I couldn't stop crying. I could barely breathe. I would faint, I was sure of it… She was hysterically crying and I put my finger to her lips and smiled, speaking calmly as I could manage. "I promise I won't. I know it's a lot to ask, but trust me. Trust me to take care of you. Nothing else matters, I promised I'd take care of you. I'm promising again. But you need to go upstairs right now and hide so I can take care of this before they get suspicious." I could see the two men through the frosted glass moving left to right anxiously and I kissed Lottie's cheek. "Go." I couldn't delay it any longer, I had to get to the door and answer it and that meant trusting Lottie to do as I'd asked. I went upstairs as quickly as I could, still in my purple nightgown, and dashed into the guest room and under the bed. The guest room was a mess, though. The covers were untidy. If the police searched, if they saw the state of the bed, they'd know. How good a liar was Cohen? And if she was a good liar, how much could I really trust her? But there was only one staircase, and I'd made my decision. I couldn't sneak down there now. I was trapped… I opened the door and fiddled with my nightgown as I looked at the two police officers. Neither of them were local sheriffs from either of the nearest towns. Were they Federal? I smiled and rubbed my eyes. "Good… morning? Morning?" I peered out into the sky and smiled, wincing in the light. "Sorry, I work night shift - it gets disorientating at times. I'm Cohen. How can I help you officers?" The one on the right didn't talk - clearly not as high a rank as the one on the left, who led most of the conversation. "Sorry to disturb you, ma'am. We've had a recent escape at a prison up near Aberdeen. A young woman. We had word that she was traveling south through the woods about forty miles up the road. Just wondering if you've seen anything suspicious: anyone running through the woods at night or maybe strange noises, anything at all?" I yawned, cupping my hand over my mouth, crossing my arms and feigning a general sense of disinterest: the sort of reaction of a night-shifter worker who'd been interrupted from her daily slumber. It wasn't rude, per se, and I made sure to keep my tone polite. But it was real and believable. "We had some hoodlums screeching down the main road past the tree-line a few nights ago making a racket. I reported it to you guys, but nobody got back to me. Otherwise things are pretty quiet here, Officer. Nobody running through the woods." A prison? Lottie came from a prison? Keep it calm, Cohen. There's an explanation. There is. "Alright." The officer nodded his head and pulled out a business card. He had no reason to believe Lottie was there, and he had no reason not to believe Cohen. He passed her his card and said, "If you hear anything, anything at all, please contact us. We want to catch this girl as soon as we can and keep our state safe." Cohen nodded and the officers returned to their cars, pulling back down the driveway. Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 28, 2018 Author Share Posted March 28, 2018 17. I’m a bad person. I closed the door behind me and took a few breaths. A prisoner. They couldn't be talking about anybody else, not with how specific they'd been, and so the voice in my head that tried to reason down that path was quickly shut up. It had to be a mistake, though. What could someone so sweet ever have done to be thrown in prison? I made my way up the stairs and stood at the top, watching the police car disappear back into the tree-line. "They're gone, gum-drop. They won't be coming back. You're safe." I climbed out from under the bed, looking out my bedroom window. No police car. Cohen wouldn't look at me, though. She stared out the window after the car that had already left her sight. "Cohen…" She didn't respond, though, and I thought it best to continue without the reaction. "Could… I have something to wear? It could be old or… I don't know. Just anything… maybe shoes…?" It was asking a lot, I knew. I shouldn't have even asked. She'd already done so much… "Thank you… for everything…" And I walked past her and out of the bedroom. "Sit down, please. On the bed." She looked at me, desperately wanting to say no, but doing what I'd asked regardless. I sat down next to her after having closed the door behind me. I had to be tactful with this, I had to be certain, had to know everything before I could talk to Emerson about it. "Please tell me everything. I don't want you to go, gum-drop. I want you to stay and I want to keep you safe. I meant that all when I promised it. This doesn't change anything. But I need you to be honest." I looked into her pretty blue eyes and took her hand in mine. "Please?" I shook my head and tried standing up. Cohen wouldn't have that, though. She put her hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down on the bed. I took my hand out of hers and played with my fingers in each other, looking down at the mess of tangled fingers I was creating. "Nothing to say… I'm a bad person. I gotta go. It's fine. I knew it would happen, and it's really fine… it was great of you to cover for me, but I'm not risking you or Emerson again…" "They won't come back, gum-drop. I'm the sort of woman who won't perform a euthanasia on an animal that hurts a person. I vote against the death penalty. I don't even believe that sexual predators should have to be registered for life. I think they can be helped, because everybody deserves a chance to change. Everybody. But your first step toward change is honesty." She didn't seem to be interested in what I had to say, but I could see my words sinking in with her in some basic level because she sat there, still, vacantly staring out the window. She… was serious? She wanted me here, still? She wouldn't though. If she really wanted honesty, she wouldn't want me anymore. And then she'd let me go. I hated the thought, but… it had to happen. She'd already lied to the police; I'd ask nothing more from her. "I killed someone. A ten year old boy…" I couldn't look at Cohen as I spoke, tears starting to cloud my eyes. "I was drunk. Really drunk. And I drove home, and I didn't see him. I was seventeen. They tried me as an adult at eighteen, sentenced at nineteen. And I'm not going to lie, Cohen, I deserve everything life gives me from now on. All the troubles in the universe…" It took me a long time to manage words. I pictured the boy in my head, I thought about the family losing their child and thought about all the lives destroyed by that callous action, by that careless mistake. But it was a mistake. It was without malice. "Do you regret it, Lottie? And would you do anything at all to go back and stop it from happening?" My tone wasn't judgmental, wasn't condemning: just questions. Simple questions that I asked without ulterior motive and expected an answer to. I nodded my head, tears sliding down my cheeks. I still couldn't make eye contact. "Every day of my life… or what's left of it…" I climbed to my feet again, still shorter than Cohen, and continued to look at my bare feet. "I'm not staying… I can't. I'm not the victim, I'm not Rikki. I'm the criminal. The kidnapper. The rapist. The murderer…" The last word was difficult to get out and I felt my whole body shake. I needed to go… I put my hand on the girl’s chin and directed her gaze to my own, looking into her crying eyes and finally managing a smile. "You have remorse and regret. And you'll never let that happen again, will you? It was a horrible mistake, but it wasn't planned, wasn't intended. It was careless, but not malicious. Nothing you can do will bring that boy back, Lottie. But one life is over; it doesn't mean another should be, too. Everybody deserves another chance. Please stay." "I can't…" This was something I'd been running from for a long time. Ever since my sentence, I'd been trying to escape. But what I was really trying to leave behind was this feeling. But it's not gone… it's still here. And the person I was… they're gone. And all that's left is Lottie… "I should… turn myself in… I owe it to that kid…" My whole body trembled, and no matter how I tried to stop, I simply couldn't. "His name was Jaime…" Was. "Will you better redeem yourself by rotting in a prison cell and losing any chance of contributing to society? Or by making a conscious effort to make a positive difference in the world? I don't think the prison system as it is works, gum-drop. But that's beside the point. When I look into your eyes, do you know what I see?" I let go of her chin and took her hand in mine instead. "I see a vulnerable young girl who'd do anything to have another chance to do life over without messing it all up." "And how am I supposed to make a positive difference, Cohen?" I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't stop thinking about Jaime. "I can't even… even leave the house. I'm being hunted by the whole damn country. They don't want me going free… they won't ever stop looking… blonde hair won't change that…" Or red, or whatever. No disguise would work. They'd find me. I'd go back anyway. I could rot in here or I could rot in there. 3 Link to comment
Baby Billy Posted March 29, 2018 Share Posted March 29, 2018 I really love this story, but I am surprised that there seems to be little response for the readers. It could be that they have not discovered it yet or your work is to good to find fault in. But please keep it up if only for one loyal fan that loves it. Link to comment
Pudding Posted March 29, 2018 Share Posted March 29, 2018 Thank you for the lovely words!! We know that Lottie is a little more inaccessible due to it being kind of a sweet tale, but having fans is lovely! Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted March 31, 2018 Author Share Posted March 31, 2018 On 3/29/2018 at 6:31 PM, Baby Billy said: I really love this story, but I am surprised that there seems to be little response for the readers. It could be that they have not discovered it yet or your work is to good to find fault in. But please keep it up if only for one loyal fan that loves it. We've posted this story before on DD, but it was deleted during the story cataclysm. So a lot of people probably already read it. And the full version is on our Patreon as well, so some people probably read it that way too. I'm not super surprised there isn't a lot of comments. I'll continue posting the rest of the story! Promise! But I have to admit, your constant support does keep me going. Link to comment
'Lil Wendi Posted March 31, 2018 Share Posted March 31, 2018 I've read this story before but it's nice to revisit it again. It is a sweet, charming tale and I for one enjoy it. Yea, I'm a softie and a fan of your writing! Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted April 2, 2018 Author Share Posted April 2, 2018 18. We’ll try it. "They're looking for a twenty year old girl with brown hair. But you know what, Lottie? They're not looking for a twelve year old girl with red hair and two loving parents." Emerson would hate it. He'd hate it more once he knew why she needed to hide. He had very different views to me when it came to the justice system, and it was something we avoided discussing most of the time. But I was his wife and I'd get my way. That was the first time my eyes met Cohen's since she'd met with the police. I looked up at her with blatant confusion, and when I finally shook my head side to side, my train of thought was spilling from my lips. "I'm not twelve, though. I don't even look twelve. Maybe sixteen. And you and Emerson can't say you're my parents - you don't have any paperwork. And the government doesn't even know I exist... and if they did know…" "Oh gum-drop. Do you know how things work out here? Drivers licenses are still printed on paper and laminated and don't require a social security number. School enrollments are all on paper, nothing is electronic. Let me finish your hair and get you dressed, and then tell me you can't pass for a twelve year old." Part of me inside was swimming in the euphoria of having a child - a daughter, someone to call me Mommy - but the voice of reason was trying to smother that flame and I was determined to build it brighter. This couldn't work. It wouldn't. Would it? No, absolutely not. I couldn't be Cohen's kid… could I? She certainly looked older than me - significantly. And I knew with everything I'd gone through I looked young for my age: that was always the point. But twelve was such a stretch. And their child... "I don't know, Cohen. I appreciate it, but… if I get caught, you and Emerson would be in so much trouble. I couldn't do that to you…" "It's better than watching such a beautiful young spirit get locked up for the rest of her life, left to wither and be destroyed. Look…" I took a breath and sighed. "Emerson doesn't know yet - I don't know that he ever will - but he's… he's infertile. It's why we haven't had kids. And if he knew? It would break his heart. We both want a child so very much. God… Lottie, I wish you could understand just how much we do." Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was reckless, and maybe it would be the ruin of us. But the idea of having a child... "And… I could grow up with you. And Emerson." I was trying to piece together Cohen's puzzle, but it was difficult. Could we really pull this off? "I'd go to school… and… I'd get an ID issued. I'd need a different name - Lottie's on record. I'd have to have a long version of it, maybe. I don't know…" But if we figured out the kinks like that… it could work. If we really tried… "Lottie is short for… Charlotte, I think. You'd be Charlotte Tovia-Roux on paper, but you'd still be able to go by Lottie in day to day stuff. And we could get you pretty dresses in your color purple, and you'd be able to be our little girl…" It was clear in my head now that I was intoxicated by the notion. This could work! I knew it could. People came from all over the US to get ID's here because it was one of three states that was so relaxed that you could slip into the system unnoticed. This is where you came to disappear. "Charlotte… Tovia-Roux." I felt a bit of my dread leave me and my body stop shaking. My cheeks were still wet, but I had a small smile in place of the miserable frown. I wasn't sure it would work, but… I was willing to try it. To stay here with these people who so obviously cared about me. Who I cared about, too, after just two days. "Okay. We'll try it." "Now…" I squeezed her hand and smiled, some of the giddiness passing but leaving no shortage of excitement in its wake. "Is there anything else I should know? Honesty is what is going to make this work, honesty in our family. And you want to be part of our family, don't you, Lottie?" She looked away and I could see the wheels of contemplation and thought ticking through her head as she pondered the question, weighed up pros and cons and tried to decide how to respond. I nodded my head softly, my hand still in Cohen's. We still had to work out all the logistics, but we had hours until Emerson came home to work on our sales pitch. I was almost excited. Maybe I could have my own family… one that actually cared about me. "There's nothing else… not really. Nothing we can't talk about later." I'd told her my big secret: the truth. And nothing could ruin things now. "Alright. Let's get your hair colored, and you can be my little red-haired daughter. Sound good?" She was everything I'd ever have wanted in a child, too. Smart, kind, polite and thoughtful. She enjoyed playing with toys and building things, she was artistic and creative and had a bright smile that I'd only just been fortunate enough to see flashes of. The hair dye process was much the same as the hair bleach process, but without the awful smell. It took Cohen quite some time to cover my head in the dye, but once she'd wrapped my hair up in plastic wrap like before all we had to do was wait. I sat on the vanity stool, my head wrapped in what looked like bloody plastic, and made gestures at myself in the mirror. "Will I have a middle name?" "Would you like a middle name?" It was evident that Lottie would have had a middle name already, but we were looking to keep her existence under wraps so it was obvious she'd need a new one. "I could pick one, or you could pick one, or we could choose one together. I was Cohen Tabitha Tovia, and Emerson was born Emerson Aimon Roux. Of course, we're both Tovia-Roux now, and you are too. I know it's a mouthful." I smiled, apologetically. We were pretty content with having hyphenated our surnames, but it was always going to be something that made our child stand-out. "Maybe not, then. I mean, Charlotte Tovia-Roux is already a long name…" I looked at myself in the mirror, the bloody turban on my head. "Charlotte Tovia-Roux." It seemed right, like it fit. I smiled at myself and sighed contently. This might work out after all. "What do we tell your parents, or friends, or something?" I mean, I can't just pop up out of nowhere… "Well, our families are both in Chicago, and we don't have very large social lives. As far as the town is considered, primarily the school, Emerson and I adopted you. We'll figure it out. You'll get to be in your Dad's class for the first year, too, which I think you'll enjoy. It'll help you be more comfortable acclimating to your new age." It was true. There was a lot of complication. Nobody at my work would ask questions; we had the sort of relationship that meant I could have said 'this is my daughter, she's twelve' and nobody would think twice. Emerson, however, was a much bigger pillar of the local society. But we'd make it work. "Dad, huh…?" I wasn't sure why, but the word sounded very wrong in my mouth. Maybe because I so very rarely used it. I shook my head and repeated the name again in the mirror, Charlotte Tovia-Roux. That sounded right. I sighed and put my cheek on my palm. Creating a brand new life and identity really shouldn't be this complicated… "Well, if you're our daughter, you'll be raised the way we intend to raise our child, and twelve year olds say Mom and Dad. Optionally Mommy and Daddy, but that one's up to you, gum-drop." I smiled and sighed happily. And I was happy. I had a little girl, and Emerson would be completely okay with adopting her, too. Except… the whole escaped convict thing. That was going to be an issue. He'd hate it. He'd never go for it. He'd… "So, Charlotte Tovia Roux, whose favorite color is a very specific shade of purple, we should start planning your bedroom once your hair is done." Yeah, distractions! 1 Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted April 2, 2018 Author Share Posted April 2, 2018 19. I’m your daughter. After thirty minutes, Cohen told me just to shower like normal, but to rinse my hair until the water didn't have dye in it anymore. So that's what I did, and damn did it take a long time! The bloody red swirled down the drain and I watched it and started to think. This was weird, wasn't it? My becoming the child of two people I had just met a few days ago? I was, after all, twenty years old, and a lot of my running away was to avoid this exact situation! I climbed out of the tub and wrapped a towel around me, rubbing the fog off the mirror to see my new red hair. There was no way I'd be recognized… "How're you going in there, gum-drop?" I only called out very casually as I wandered down the hall back from our bedroom. In the back of my walk-in had been a few outfits from a decade ago that no longer fit me and might've now provided a modicum of individuality for Lottie. I slid them into her closet and smiled appreciatively. They were only temporary. I had very firm ideas of what my daughter would be wearing circa age twelve. It was one of the things that happened when you spent so long obsessing over having a child. I came out of the bathroom, the towel around me from the armpits down, and my hair an almost dull red that caught the orange lights from a high window by the stairs. "I look like a ginger." I didn't have freckles, and while my skin was only moderately pale, the hair color was something that heavily resembled Cohen's, albeit a few shades lighter. "No, you look almost like a ginger." I was giddy with excitement as I led the girl into her bedroom and flicked the row of spot lighting above her mirror. Standing next to one another, my hair darker and in curls, hers lighter and straighter, she looked every bit my child. Our child, Emerson's and mine. It was hard to contain my excitement. "You look so much like my daughter, Lottie." I wasn't sure if she'd see that as a good thing or a bad thing, but I was thrilled. "About that…" It wasn't that I wasn't excited to have a new family - I really was! It was like a second chance at growing up. But it was still strange. "I like you and Emerson. And… I like that you're giving me this opportunity. But… I don't know." I played with my hair in the mirror. The age gap between Cohen and me looked nowhere near seven years. "It's like… when you get a new step-mom. And it's weird calling her Mom or letting her take care of you or make rules for you. It's like that. Except I'm twenty." I frowned and looked down at my bare feet, dripping water on the tile. "Will this really work…?" "You're twelve, gum-drop. In-fact, you just turned twelve." I wandered over to the bed and sat down on the edge, patting the spot next to me. "I know it's difficult to adjust, but you're already pretty much our perfect daughter. I meant it when I said we'd be proud to have you as our child." I could understand her nervousness, though, and I smiled. "Is there something in particular that's making you uncomfortable?" "I don't know… I'm not sure." I sat down next to Cohen on the guest bed - my bed? - still clad in only my towel. It was huge on me. "The Mom stuff for one, and being twelve again. I don't really know why I can't be older. I don't want to be twelve." It was a selfish demand, but I felt my years growing up were mostly unsuccessful - I really didn't want to migrate back to those times. I understood why I couldn't be twenty, but twelve seemed… excessive. It probably didn't help that I'd never met a twelve year old that was five-four. "Because ideally I'd love for you to be registered as my biological daughter, and at twelve that paints me as having been sixteen when I had you. I'm okay with that, but I don't think I'd have wanted to be thought of as somebody who had a baby any younger." That was the logical point of view. "Plus… selfishly, I want a daughter that I can buy pretty outfits for, a daughter I can plan days out with, and a daughter that still considers her Mom to be her best friend." "Well, I don't have any friends." It was meant to come across as a joke, but it sounded a little sad. I looked down at my feet and put my thumb in my mouth without noticing. This was strange. I wasn't sure how any of it would pan out, and what if Emerson didn't want me as a daughter? Or what if the paperwork didn't go through correctly? And I didn't look twelve. Fourteen at the youngest. I'd never pass… With a cute and knowing smile I got up off the bed and wandering over to the closet, sliding the door open. "This…" I reached in and took out a hanger with a really pretty, understated and subtle sundress on it. I'd worn it at eleven, but it would definitely fit Lottie now. "Used to be my favorite dress. It's yellow, so it should go really well with some ribbons or hair-bows in your purple. We'll get some made." She looked at me anxiously and sucked her thumb a bit more voraciously, but I remained upbeat. "Try it on for me?" I sighed and nodded my head. I climbed up off the bed and followed Cohen's path to the closet, taking the dress from her with one hand and holding the towel up with the other. My hair still needed to finish drying, but I saw it as a non-issue. "Can you wait outside while I get changed, please…?" Mother or not, she was never seeing me naked. Though, by twelve, there wasn't much reason she should have to. "Oh, one sec." I slid open the drawer in the top of the dresser and tossed the girl an unopened package of panties. "These should fit you, and they're brand new. I can take you bra-shopping, too, and get you a few nicely fitted bras." I had a daughter - a child of my own - and as I closed her door behind me, I couldn't help but smile. It would be a while longer before Emerson came home and caused this all to come crumbling down, but… no! No, Cohen. Don't think about it that way. Package it, market it, make it work. The dress was a little tight, but it fit. Though if I ever put a bra on - which I had never done before - it certainly wouldn't. I supposed that was the draw back of an eleven year old's dress. I made my way back into the hallway, Cohen waiting by the door, and smiled sheepishly. "I feel silly in this… I look like a kid." Then again, my purple nightgown made me look like a four year old. I supposed, after what I'd been through, this was luxury. "Did you see yourself in the mirror?" I couldn't contain my smile. She looked like she could have fit in in Emerson's class, top to bottom, without and beyond a doubt. She shook her head and I took her by the hand and led her back into the bedroom and motioned to the mirror on her closet door. She stood, staring at herself, and I started to run my fingers through her short, almost-ginger hair. "Your hair is adorable, by the way. It suits your complexion perfectly." Now that my hair had mostly dried, the medium faded orange was strikingly complimenting. I smiled a little and looked at Cohen, who stood two inches taller than me in the mirror. I'd never grow taller than five-four - we both knew that. Someone my age doesn't grow taller. But despite my height, I still pulled off grade-schooler pretty well. "Um… Cohen… do you think I could be… thirteen?" From what I knew, a girl my height would fit in better in eighth grade than seventh, but I had an ulterior motive. "If you're going to be my parents - you and Emerson - I really don't think I should be in his class. It would just be… awkward…" There was a certain degree of logic in the girl’s voice and I thought about all the pros and cons of letting her have another year to her life. It would still paint me as an unfortunately young mother, and I sighed a little, deciding to answer her question with one of my own. "Do I still get to buy you cute outfits at my leisure and dress you up?" There were other things, too, like being able to hold my daughters hand in public, or having her bounce up and down excitedly when she found something she liked, but those were small details. After the past six months, I didn't care what Cohen did with me. She'd be doing it out of love, and that was more than I could've hoped for from anyone else. "You can dress me in anything you want. Just don't let anyone at school find out." School. Again. I was going back to eighth grade! I had new parents! This was… insane. Surreal. Complete fiction. The kind of thing you'd hear about in a book. This wasn't how real life worked. But here it was, working… "I suppose… you wouldn't rather be my big sister?" It would've been so much easier to work around; I already saw Cohen as a sort of big sister model. But I knew that wasn't what she wanted, her or Emerson. They'd both done so much for me. I could give them this, I could. I sheepishly shook my head, apologetic. "It's been my dream for longer than I can remember having dreams to have a child. And knowing Emerson can't give me that is…" I looked away, guiltily. "It doesn't make me love him any less, it doesn't! It's such a heavy burden knowing that, though, knowing he can't make me a mom. And then, in the middle of the night, you tumble out of the woods, everything I could have wanted in a daughter." "Then… I'm your daughter." If I didn't make a decision now, I would've wrestled with it the rest of the night. I would've changed my mind a hundred times before Emerson got home, and that would just make it even more complicated. So I had to choose. "Charlotte Tovia- Roux. There'll be an adjustment period. But… maybe that's best handled under your guidance." And there went all my rights as an adult, as easy to throw away as a gum wrapper. I threw my arms around her and cuddled her close, her past self having disappeared with the dark-brown hair. She was my little girl. My daughter. My child. I bit my lip and smiled, and then stood back, taking her hands in mine. "Emerson is going to take some time to come around. It's the way he is. But he loves you very much, just the same as I do. He's going to love you as his daughter, too. But this is new to him, and it's going to be an adjustment." It wasn't even the half of it. He might have gone for the idea without the criminal complication, but I owed it to him to discuss it. "Okay…" I smiled sheepishly and looked down at my bare feet on the soft carpet of what I supposed was now my bedroom. I lived here. This was my house. And amidst all the strangeness, I actually felt a bit of… joy. Two days ago I didn't have anything but a nightgown, and now I had a family. Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted April 2, 2018 Author Share Posted April 2, 2018 20. This is weird. We spent the rest of the afternoon alternating between being productive for a while, and then discussing things as they came up. The Amazon gift card was spent on outfits we both agreed upon, with the understanding that beyond that point I'd be the one picking out her clothes apart from special occasions. We discussed titles and names, and she decided to stick with Lottie as her every day name, and that she preferred Momma and Daddy - which seemed to match up pretty perfectly with most other thirteen year old girls anyway. We were in her bedroom discussing what to do to redecorate it appropriately fitting her new self when the door clicked open and I took her hand and squeezed it. "Remember what we decided upon?" We'd make our way to the top of the stairs, and Lottie would run down enthusiastically and wrap her arms around Emerson, gushing 'Hi Daddy!' with as much joyful jubilation she could muster. I'd wander down behind, smiling coyly as Emerson looked at me questioningly and then I'd take him into his office and explain. "This is weird. Super weird. He doesn't even know. I can't…" The discussion had been a quick one - one where Cohen had used her "I'm your mother" privilege to end it early without any hope of a rebuttal. "Okay, I'll do it. But no ‘daddy’. He doesn't know yet, and I don't want him to think I'm crazy or something!" Cohen rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement. So I took a deep breath and hurried down the stairs, hugging Emerson around the chest - gosh, he was so much taller than me - and mumbling almost incoherently, "Missed you." "I missed you, too, child." After the conclusion of a long day at work, being met at the door with a cuddle from what might have been a child was certainly a change. A welcome one, though: one that brought a smile to my lips as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and hugged her in return. I looked up into the eyes of my wife and she mouthed 'your office, now' before wandering in that direction herself. Lottie pulled away from me and looked up into my eyes with a smile. "I like your hair, Lottie. You look strikingly like a younger Cohen. Would you like to go wait in the living room? It seems she'd like to talk to me in private." “Uh huh." I smiled brightly - or as brightly as Emerson had likely ever seen me smile - at the compliment. Maybe this would go well. He seemed so happy to have a kid, and maybe this would work out after all. And it wasn't so bad for me either if it meant a constant string of compliments and people to take care of me. I nodded to Emerson's question and hurried off to the living room, where I sat anxiously and bit my thumb. "So we had a visit today. A rather interesting one." Emerson clicked the door closed behind him and took a seat on the armchair in the corner as I leaned against his desk. "It was… the police, looking for an escaped convict. A girl, around the age of twenty, last seen running through the woods a few days ago. She escaped from a correctional facility up in Aberdeen." Emerson nodded slowly and methodically, processing the information before replying. "And she is still here because…?" "Because I think she deserves a second chance. What happened was an accident, and she'd do anything to change it. But she can't. What's done is done. They want to lock her up for life and what will that do but waste her away? You've seen her, Emerson. You know the beautiful little fragile soul she is." "So then why was she sentenced to live in prison, Cohen?" I looked away with a sigh. It was the big question, wasn't it? "There was an accident when she was seventeen. She lost control of her car and a young boy was killed. They ruled it negligent on her part, but they'd waited until she was eighteen for sentencing so they could try her as an adult." My decision to leave out the fact she'd been drunk was a strategic wager; I didn't expect the topic would come up and anything I could do to make Emerson accept her was beneficial. "Even that being said, my love, she cannot run forever. Dying her hair won't make the police stop looking." "No, it won't. But…" "What have you done, Cohen?" There was a tone of dread in the man's voice and I smiled awkwardly, taking a breath. "I want to adopt her. You know how lax paperwork stuff is here, you know how easy it would be to get her registered. Immigrants come from all over to do it. She'd be our daughter, Emerson." "She's twenty years old." Pause. Long pause. "Well… I thought about that. And say she were… thirteen instead…" Emerson stood up and turned around. "Absolutely not. We'd be making criminals of ourselves, Cohen, jeopardizing everything we worked so hard for." "Emerson…" "No, I mean it. I have sympathy for her, but she committed a crime." "And she deserves a second chance!" "Not at the expense of us, Cohen. You have to think about it, my love. We can't risk everything we have, everything we own, everything we've earned." "Please listen!" "No." "Emerson." "I said-” "Emerson. Fuck. Listen!" He paused, taken aback by my language, and took a deep breath to compose himself. "…she's the child we've always wanted." "No, she's someone else's child, someone else's problem." "Don't give me that, Emerson. You remember that shy vulnerable girl? Polite and kind and civil and grateful? The one you ordered four hundred dollars worth of electric train kits for?" He paused, and I smiled a bit, continuing. "Yeah. I read the online statement. Admit it, Emerson, you can't help it either. When you sit with her, when you talk with her… it's so easy to see her as yours." "Cohen…" "Isn't it? Admit it." "I'm going for a drive." He turned and left the office, heading for the front door, and I followed shortly behind. "Emerson. Don't do this." He opened the door and turned around to look at me, keeping his voice low. "It's easy to get lost in an idea, Cohen. But that's all it is. What about when we have our own child?" I paused and looked up at him; he thought he made an impression on me, that he'd made a point. If he only knew how close I was to blurting out that he was infertile. He waited a moment more before closing the door behind him, leaving me standing in the entry hall. My world came tumbling down at the sound of the door closing. I knew he'd left. That Cohen hadn't succeeded in selling me to him. Or maybe I just wasn't wanted. I didn't know. And that's when I realized how stupid this fantasy was. I'm not a little kid, I'm twenty. These aren't my parents - they're harborers. I shook my head and climbed up off the couch. Cohen would be in soon to tell me the news, but I already knew. And I really didn't want to hear it from her. So I left through the back door - a glass double door in the living room - and closed it behind me. If I'd have stayed and said goodbye, she would've convinced me to stay, she would've convinced me we could make it work. But we couldn't - it was too far out of reach. So I left the house behind, money and purple dress and hex code reader, and ventured again into the forest. 1 Link to comment
LilLadyLexi Posted April 2, 2018 Share Posted April 2, 2018 Is it bad that I'm coming up with a million and one side stories in my head hehe. Loving this Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted April 2, 2018 Author Share Posted April 2, 2018 22 minutes ago, Everlyn Ashley Harding said: Is it bad that I'm coming up with a million and one side stories in my head hehe. Loving this PLEASE WRITE THEM!! Link to comment
LilLadyLexi Posted April 2, 2018 Share Posted April 2, 2018 56 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said: PLEASE WRITE THEM!! Maybe once the entirety of this story is done. As I'll probably come up with more haha Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted April 3, 2018 Author Share Posted April 3, 2018 21. I hope you forgive me. I barely spoke to Emerson when he got back. He tried to talk to me, but I just sat there on the sofa, eyes transfixed on the window. She was gone. She was on her own and at the mercy of the world now. The girl that was my only hope at a child… she was gone. Emerson sat across from me, spoke softly, calmly, tried to justify his rationale. But I couldn't even look at him. We had a fight I was sure, though I couldn't recall if I'd even said a word; he'd just gotten upset and yelled, said things I knew he'd regret. He had his beliefs, but they were beliefs that would melt away to nothing if he only knew the truth, if he knew that she was a gift for us. Eventually, he slept. And I think I did, too; though I only managed twenty minutes at a time before I'd wake up in a start and search every inch of the house, certain she'd come back. She didn't, though. Life went on, but not for me. I didn't go into work, didn't leave the house, didn't shower or get changed. I felt… disconnected. She was my daughter and I'd failed her. For a sunrise and a sunset and another sunrise, I didn't eat. I barely drank. And after the first twelve hours, Emerson stopped speaking to me. What was the point? I never spoke back. But then the phone rang. He answered. And then hung up, quickly coming into the living room with my coat. "That was Sheriff Ludlow. She's with them." I looked up at Emerson and he spoke decisively. "We need to go and pick her up before the Feds get involved." I got to my feet and nodded, forgetting how to talk as I tried regardless. "Yeah. Yeah, come on, let's go. Quickly." He held up the keys to his car and smiled, leading the way out the front door. I sat with my eyes on my bare feet. Neither Cohen or Emerson said a word to me when they walked in, though Cohen hugged me like I was a safety rope. I didn't hug her back. The yellow dress Cohen had put me in was covered in dirt, as was my hair and my feet to the ankles. It had rained the morning before and from that I caught quite a cold, but I didn't even sniffle while Cohen and Emerson spoke to the sheriff. "She didn't do anything wrong. We found her walking the side of the road, trying to hitchhike. She said she was an adult, but she didn't have any ID and refused to give us her name. Eventually, when we said we'd have to do a missing persons search, she gave us the name Charlotte Tovia-Roux. And obviously…" He nodded to Emerson. "So she's your daughter then?" "She is. She's been staying with family in Chicago until a few weeks ago. She wanted to finish out school while we got settled in here." I looked at Emerson and the same surprise I felt was mirrored in Lottie's eyes. The Sheriff nodded and looked at her with a smile. "She's only thirteen, and we had a fight about her not wanting to go to school here. She's afraid she won't like it because they don't have iPad's in every classroom." "God forbid kids open a book nowadays." The sheriff signed off on the paperwork and motioned to me. "Don't let this happen again - we might not be so lucky next time." Cohen promised and they both ushered me out into the parking lot. Once we were out of earshot of the station, I stopped and turned toward the two of them. "Sorry about this... they asked my name and I panicked. I didn't mean to make you come down here. I'll stay off the roads next time…" "You'll do no such thing. You'll come home right this moment, young lady, and we'll discuss your punishment for running off in the middle of the night and making your mother worry. You should have seen her; she was a nervous wreck." I spoke in firm, authoritative tones to the girl, and she seemed very caught off-guard. Cohen did, as well. I still didn't like this situation, but seeing what had happened to Cohen when Lottie had left…? I decided to humor it for a time. Of course, I'd have trouble admitting the relief I felt to get the phone call. I sat in the back seat of Emerson's car while he drove home, Cohen in the passenger seat. I didn't know what all this meant, but I would be really pissed if I had to walk all the way through those woods again! I couldn't imagine Emerson had just gotten over his issue with me - I wouldn't have if I were him, anyway. But he spoke to me like any dad would, or so I imagined. I didn't understand this. So I took the "sit down and shut up" approach. Something would happen. Once we were home, I led the way into the living room and motioned for Lottie to sit down on the sofa. Cohen took a seat in the arm chair and I stayed standing. "Charlotte Tovia-Roux. Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? Storming off in the middle of the night without a word?" I paced from left to right as I spoke, being careful not to raise my voice. "I'm not angry, I'm just very disappointed. You're our only child, and I just don't know what we'd do if something happened to you. You know we can't just take you to the hospital if you get hurt. You have to be more careful than that." Clearly something had changed since I'd left. I looked over at Cohen for a hint but she just shrugged her shoulders. I guess this was new for both of us. But it seemed like… Emerson wanted me to stay? Was it just to appease his wife? I didn't want to be the barrier in their relationship. So I was direct: well, as direct as thirteen year old would be. "I… thought you didn't want me here. You just… I don't know… seemed like I was a burden…" "And did you ask about this, Charlotte?" I didn't know where the name Charlotte had come from, but I went with it and decided it sounded poignant when used in a stern perspective. "Communication is very important, child, and when you assume things without discussing them you cripple that communication. I'm your father. If you can't talk to me about your feelings, then I suppose that's my own failing. I'll do my very best to be more approachable." "I think what your dad is trying to say, gum-drop, is that there was a misunderstanding, and that we're both very sorry it was allowed to happen." It sure didn't seem like a misunderstanding. But they were trying so hard… "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't storm off. I don't know. I've just… been on my own for a while. It's… weird relying on other people." It sounded so scripted. It all sounded scripted. Like we were acting out these characters we wanted so badly to be normal. But maybe that would go away. Only one way to find out. "So… what now? If you think I'm going to be a liability… I don't want to put either of you in danger…" "Well, I think you're grounded. And you can help out your mother at the veterinarian's office every night until your school enrollment is complete. And in the meantime, I'll be providing you homework each week that must be completed. Am I clear, young lady?" I couldn't help it: I was impressed. I didn't know what the Hell was going on, or why Emerson was being so understanding. Why he was trying so hard. But it was something he and I could talk about later. I looked at Lottie and smiled with a sense of anxious optimism as she finished receiving her grilling from her 'dad'. "Uh huh…" It didn't seem so bad. Helping Cohen out at the office could actually be fun! At least it would get me out of the house and the woods at the same time. The homework, though… I wasn't as sure about that. But I was twenty - how hard could eighth grade homework be? Emerson sighed and motioned to the kitchen. "It's past dinner time," he said. Cohen and I both stood up and while she led the way through the door I took Emerson's arm. "Um… hold on. One second. I just want to say something…" He stopped and turned back to me, though Cohen left the room. "Every single day I regret what I did… and if it wasn't for your wife I'd have called the police myself. But she convinced me I deserve more than that. And I know you might not believe it - I have trouble believing it too sometimes. I'm really sorry I'm not the daughter you wanted, I'm sorry I have the past that I do. But you and her… you saved me. And my future is for you. I promise to do well. And I hope… you forgive me someday." It took me aback to see Lottie being so candid with her feelings; the shy and reserved girl who was so terrified to discuss the past. The girl who sucked her thumb, the one I'd painted the nails of, was verbose now, well spoken, eloquent. But I knew as well as she did that it was too soon to hope for my perspective to adjust too much. The best I could offer was that I was trying. "Nothing would make me happier." I smiled. It wasn't my usual smile, but it was a start. It was something. And that was many times better than nothing. Cohen had drawn me a bath after dinner, and while I loved getting myself clean, it was a real effort to convince Cohen to let me be. She really was the doting type, which I normally didn't mind. But she was old enough to be my sister, and I really didn't want her seeing me naked. After the bath I dressed myself in my lavender nightie and she pulled the covers to my neck. "All I could think about in the woods was… this. I was so pensive, and now… now it just seems like I'm dreaming again." "I bet you've learned a whole lot about woodland survival, gum-drop.” I couldn't help but smile, but it worried me chronically: the sight of my adopted daughter with her face smeared with dirt and at the mercy of the wilderness? It was scary; she could've gotten hurt. "Do you think it's a good dream, at least?" It wasn't clear how comfortable Lottie would be discussing what was happening with Emerson, or what it meant to our marriage or anything of the sort, but it was clear that his attitude change was primarily for my benefit. "A very good dream." I curled up in bed and put my head down on the pillow. Cohen kissed my forehead and I smiled. "Goodnight. Mom." The word sounded forced, but it was a start. Eventually, it would become a norm, and Cohen would become the strange thing to say. I should've thought this whole situation odd - I know I did before - but with having left this blissful utopia for the unforgiving wilderness yet again, I realized exactly what a blessing I was offered. And as weird as it was, it was still something I should cherish. Link to comment
Sophie ♥ Posted April 3, 2018 Author Share Posted April 3, 2018 22. You’re seeing things. By the time I got back downstairs to rendezvous with my husband, he'd poured out a glass of scotch over some chipped ice and was sitting on the sofa. He took a sip as he looked up at me and smiled dryly. "So you intend to put her in my class, fake some documents and hope it doesn't all fall apart?" I shook my head guiltily and corrected him. "No… she won't be in your class. She'll be in the year above you. She doesn't even have to go to your school, if you'd prefer." "And when we get caught?" "We won't." "We might." "We can't." "Why?" "Because she needs us" "An-" "And we need her." I picked up the glass from his hand and took a sip before handing it back. "Come on, my love. We don't get many nights to sleep at the same time." There was a certain surreality to waking up with 10:15am sunbeams shining through the window when you're so used to working nights, but it was lovely. Emerson was long gone for work and I padded out of bed and down the hall to the guest-… to Lottie's room, gently turning the doorknob and wandering in. She was still fast asleep and I sat down on the edge of the bed, smiling and watching her peaceful expression. For all she'd been through, from what had happened, going to prison, escaping and all this drama, it was so lovely to see her at ease. She'd stir soon, but I was in no hurry to wake her. It was about that point that I finally noticed the smell of pee in the bedroom, though. Had she…? I looked at the covers and ran my hand over the comforter, checking for any signs of wetness. Regardless, we had the mattress protector. I whimpered at the gentle shaking of my shoulder, tugging the comforter over my head again the way I always had and the way I'd done once already with Cohen. But the smell was strong under the blanket and I quickly poked my head out in mild confusion. I rolled onto my back and looked up at Cohen with blatant curiosity. "What… what's going on…" She had a small, concerned look painted on. "Shh, shh, it's okay. Your dad's at work. We'll get this all cleaned up and it'll be our little secret, okay?" I ran my fingers over the sheets by the edge of the bed and smiled. "There's been a protector on the mattress beneath the sheets since that first morning, so I just need to toss the sheets into the wash." Is that how you want to handle your daughter having an accident, Cohen? "Come on now, gum-drop, Momma will get you all cleaned up." That's better! I pulled back the covers entirely. I was a second too late at noticing my nightie hiked up to my stomach, flashing the front of my underwear. With the covers pulled away, the wet puddle on the mattress was clearly visible, as were the damp underwear and nightgown. I quickly tugged the hem of my nightgown to my knees and stumbled awkwardly out of the puddle in place, praying upon praying Cohen had been as slow as I had. But from the expression on her face, she clearly hadn't. "I… um…" "Lottie, sweetie. Remember when I asked you if there was anything else you thought I should know?" My tone wasn't angry or accusatory, just curious in the way a parent would be when they discovered something fundamentally misplaced with their child. "I need you to understand that you wetting the bed is fine. I'll get it cleaned up. But if there's something else you think you wanna tell me right now, gum-drop, being as honest and detailed as possible is going to make this a lot easier for me to get my head around. It's okay. You're not in trouble." It couldn't have been what it looked like, but so much of it would have made sense; her short hair and very flat chest were definitely clues that aligned. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, my sternum rising and falling. I was kneeling on the edge of the floor, my elbows on the bed like I was praying. "I… um… should go get changed…" I stumbled to my feet, my purple nightgown soaked through, and did my best to hurry past Cohen. It wasn't that I didn't want to tell her - it would've made my life much easier! But what was I supposed to say? I couldn't do it. "Charlotte Tovia-Roux." I didn't take a stern tone often; I always figured that I'd never have to be the authoritarian in my relationship with my child, but in this case I had to be stern. "I asked you a question, gum-drop. Please answer me, don’t walk away. I'm not angry, just very confused. And I want you to help me understand what I saw." She was a boy. My perfect daughter was a boy. And I didn't get it at all. I shrugged my shoulders, looking down at my bare feet on the carpet. "I don't know… maybe you're seeing things…" But I didn't move. I had nearly made it to the bedroom door, standing about halfway between it and Cohen. I didn't dare turn around, though. I didn't dare take another step further. Maybe she hadn't seen enough. I could convince her she was hallucinating or something. "You're probably still tired…" Yesterday was a big day, after all. "Lottie…" I approached behind the girl and cuddled her from behind, taking a deep breath and sighing. "You've told me about your past, about the things that brought you to this point. I want to offer you a future, but I need to know all the pieces of the puzzle before I can start building your life up. And I'm your mother, you know? You can tell me anything." The fact Emerson wasn't home was an additional perk; I didn't foresee him dealing with anything else at the moment. I shook my head and turned toward Cohen. Two inches really made a difference this close up. "I really don't know. Now this is a really icky nightgown. I'd like to get cleaned up and go change, if that's okay." I didn't wait for an answer. I took a step back and turned out the door, walking across the hall and into the bathroom. She wouldn't follow, not in here. But I'd have to come out some time. I stripped out of the purple nightie and shook my head in disbelief. How could I have been so careless. Why the hell was I wearing a nightgown without shorts?! Obviously it was something she was self conscious about, something she kept to herself. A birth defect, maybe. I started to strip down her bed and thought about it, going over the concept in my head over and over. It was unmistakably a penis I'd seen through the clinging, semi-transparent fabric of her panties. Lottie was a boy. She clearly didn't want me to think so, though; she'd corrected me immediately on age when I'd insinuated she was younger. So this was… I didn't get it. I knew enough to know it made her uncomfortable, though, and I'd worked so hard to get her comfortable. She'd tell me when she was ready. Wouldn't she? I stuffed the sheets into the laundry chute and wandered out into the hall to find a new set; Lottie was still in the bathroom though. My daughter was a boy... Link to comment
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