Both women sighed and looked at each other in sadness, then they turned and looked away from each other. They were different, even though they were mother and daughter. The mother’s hair was a light blonde, that hung in waves and framed her face. Her eyes were black and spoke of years of heartache. The outfit she wore was pink and black, her favorite colors, which hugged her curves in a provocative manner. Her tanned features formed a frown on her face as she turned to stare at the same door they had been staring at for the past 2 years, before she shook her head in sadness and moved to fix her and her daughter dinner.
Her daughter’s dark head lifted up as she watched her mom head towards their kitchen, she sighed before turning her dull blue eyes towards the picture frame that lay face down across the room near the desk. Her dark hair, which was cut short to her shoulders, swayed as her head moved. Her left hand reached up to touch her face. It’s been two years. Her eyes closed to hold back the tears that she refused to let fall. If they did, then they meant she had totally and utterly given up hope on them. Shivers went up her spine, tomorrow would be the eve of the day her father, her aunt and uncle, and her Stark had disappeared and had yet to return. She stood to her feet and walked over to the window, her hips swaying a bit in her loose pajama pants. She placed her hands on the sill of the window and looked up at the full moon. She never thought of much lately, her and her mother were pretty much dead inside. She turned away from the window and leaned against it, her arms crossing over her chest, as she stared at nothing in particular, her mind wandering aimlessly.
She was so intent on her thoughts, she never heard her mom call her names three times.
“Tris.” Her mom said again, before placing the tray of food on the brown coffee table in the center of the room, agitation written on her countenance and in her voice.
Tristina finally looked up and focused on her mom’s voice. “Yes, mother?” She asked, softly.
Her mother gestured towards the food. “We should eat, something.”
Tris only shook her head and looked at the facedown picture on the computer desk. Her mother followed her gaze and sighed.
“Do you think they will ever come back?” She asked, tiredly.
Tris looked at her mother, seeing the worry lines and aging in her face. She walked over to her and pulled her into a tight hug.
“Daddy will come back.” She closed her eyes against the sharp pain at not thinking her Stark would do the same.
Her mom pulled back and looked into her daughter’s dark-skinned face.
“I notice you no longer say Stark’s name anymore.” Krissa’s eyes bore into her daughter’s.
Tris just smiled at her mom, knowing that she would notice that it no longer reached her once bright eyes.
“I just want dad to come back for you.” She turned away from her mother and stared at the food on the table. “They never should have left. Oji-san, Oba-san, Stark, Dad, I don’t know what they were thinking.” Bitterness began into enter her voice as she talked and her eyes went from dull to cool as ice.
“I am tired, mother. But I know they cannot stay away forever they will come home.” Her right hand tightened into a fist and trembled. “They will wish they had never left us. We have both changed. And when they return, they will have to deal with what they have wrought here.” Her blue eyes flashed in disdain, before she turned and walked out of the room, leaving her mother staring after her.
Tears filled her mother’s eyes as she walked to the desk and picked up the facedown picture. It was all of them together, Kenji and Asukai, off to the side by themselves and Tris and her mother with their arms around their men, Kain and Stark. Pure happiness showed in both their faces as they kissed their men’s cheeks. Then they were happy, then they knew love and laughter. Now they only knew heartache, pain and loss. Here they lived in the house they had all once shared and here they would stay. She placed the picture back face down on the desk. Like her daughter said, they couldn’t give up.
She looked down at the food, then picked it up and took it back to the kitchen. Some days they would eat, some days not. Today was one. She set the food down and feeling tiredness takeover her body, she turned and followed her daughter to bed, to wait another day…
© Copyright 2017 Carrie Carrington. All rights reserved.
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