Lovely Hues | Fillie AU

Chapter Twenty Eight

The days dragged on and blended into one another mercilessly while Millie waited to hear back from the Atlantic Cruise Line. Louisa hadn't been spending much time in the larger areas of the house and had been almost exclusively utilizing the space of her bedroom for any activity she pursued, silently reading or painting, or often, just napping. She hadn't returned to sleep the night in Millie's bed since Finn left, which made her wonder if it had become habit, or if her daughter was purposefully pulling away from her.

At school, Louisa's teachers were starting to take notice of the change in character. She wasn't completing assignments on time and when she did, it wasn't up to the little girl's normal standards. Her penmanship was becoming sloppy and it seemed like she was purposefully forgetting things she had previously mastered.

One day, the art teacher stopped by the house and told Millie, "I'm concerned for her communication. Beyond verbal, she used to at least try and communicate in other ways, but lately she's been unreachable. Did something happen?"

After having not let herself think about Finn for several days at this point, Millie couldn't stop herself from breaking down. It was like she had asked if she was alright. The way she could never hear that question when she wasn't okay, because if she did, it was a sure fire way to make her lose any strength she had and dwindle down into a blubbering mess of tears.

And so, that's what happened in front of Miss Ryder that afternoon. She had quickly stepped out onto the front porch to make sure that the children didn't hear her. She didn't believe in hiding real emotion from them and pretending as if everything was fine all of the time, but she didn't want to trigger Louisa to fall any deeper in reclusivity than she already was. And she knew the boys were finally napping after putting up a massive fight to go to bed, and she didn't want to wake them.

She explained to Miss Ryder, a kind, older woman with wispy brown hair and wide concerned eyes, who also happened to be a widow, about Finn and everything that had transpired over the last couple of months. Had it really only been two months? It felt like years.

When she was finished, Millie felt the remnants of anger lingering in her chest, but moreover, she felt a cascading sadness falling into her stomach.

"I just wish he had stayed." She said.

"Even though you told him to go?" Miss Ryder asked.

Millie looked up at her. They were both now sitting on the first step of the stoop. "I didn't want to come between him and his life's mission, but he had already made such an impression on us. . on Louisa. She's never been worse than she is now."

"Well, I actually had hypothesized that her regression might have more to do with the anniversary of her father's death. Though this makes more sense. . . still, it could play a factor."

Millie could see a freshly built hurdle of tears coming up on the horizon, "I hadn't even thought of that. . .the end of this month is the five year anniversary. . ."

"And Louisa turned this in today," Miss Ryder handed Millie a piece of paper. It was a drawing done in colored pencil. For a moment, it paused the tears trying to escape from her eyes and she just stared in awe. It was so vivid, the lines so neat—where Louisa wanted them to be, that is—and there was no guessing at what she had drawn.

It was a small barn, set against an open field, but it was dark, it was nighttime and stormy. Dark greys and deep blues made up the sky with streaks of white and yellow for lightning, with one particularly large bolt shooting down from the clouds, into the barn. It was like she had combined the deaths of her father's and it made Millie's bottom lip quiver. What sent her over the edge however, was the house next to the barn. It was their house and through the brightly lit windows, Louisa had drawn the shapes of people inside. Up in the twins room, she saw two little boys and what must have been Charlie, playing with them. And in the living room, she saw two heads overtop the couch in front of the window and a third figure that looked like Louisa, standing in front of the fireplace. The hair and the way they were sitting, it reminded her so much of Finn and she knew that was who Louisa had drawn.