TROUVAILLE ... l.danes (REWRITE)

chapter twenty-one; the past

SOMETIMES YOU BARELY NOTICE HOW QUICKLY THE SUN TURNS TO RAIN

nineteen-seventy-five

THE SUN shines oddly bright for the middle of Spring.

Lucas' mom had spread out a red-and-white blanket on the light green grass that makes up the middle of town, close enough to the gazebo that his dad can shuffle back and be hidden in the shadows. His mom leans back on her elbows, allowing the sun to kiss along her freckled skin. It bleaches her strawberry-blonde hair as it spreads across the grass. Lucas plucks a ladybug out of the tendrils of her hair closest to him, and watches as it zips across the length of his finger. He lets out a laugh before thrusting it into Liz's face. She cackles as she falls back, trying to wriggle away from her older brother, getting grass stains all over her favourite white dungarees.

Their parents don't even care about the stains, much too pleased with their children's booming laughter.

His dad reaches for the cookies his mom and Liz made. They're covered in pink icing and it's obvious which ones were made by Liz and which ones were made by their mom. Lucas grabs one of the messy ones half-covered in sprinkles.

"Whoa, Lizzy, I love this." Liz squeals and hides her face behind her hands. She's only six and every emotion is far too big for her tiny body. She watches him take a bite through her fingers. It's not the best cookie and he shares a look with his dad, who also happened to pick up one of Liz's cookies by mistake. They both plaster on bright grins. "It tastes amazing, Lizzy!"

"Absolutely, champ. You're a real star baker." Their dad ruffles her wild blonde hair and she giggles. The sun shines from her skin and she looks the spitting image of her mother as she falls back onto the grass and wriggles around. She's golden and happy and when their mother leans over to press pink-lipped kisses to her face, she is just as golden and happy as her daughter.

There is nothing more great than spending a sunny day with his family. They don't get to spend a lot of time like this together. His dad spends all his time in the dark store, while his mom tends to everything else. She does the grocery shopping, takes care the taxes, cooks dinner. Lucas watches her day in, day out and she never loses the carefree smile on her face.

He wishes they had more time to do stuff like this.

More raucous laughter comes from the street and Lucas' head snaps towards it. It's too warm for cars, everybody deciding just to walk everywhere, as is normal for the residents of Stars Hollow. But there, balancing badly on a small pink bicycle is Shelley St James, daughter of his mom's best friend. Her dad has let go of the back and she's half-screaming half-laughing as she tries desperately to keep control of her spinning pedals. Her parents are watching her, hands over their mouths to stop themselves from laughing, but they are shining just as brightly as everyone else.

And then, a terrible crash comes and Shelley tumbles over the steamer-ended handlebars of her bicycle until she lands on her back on the grass just metres away from the Danes'. Lucas scrambles to his feet quicker than anybody else can. He rushes over to the crying girl, landing on his knees by her side while her parents turn her bicycle the right-side up. 

Sometimes you barely notice how quickly the sun turns to rain. 

She stares up at him with bubbling tears clinging to her eyelashes.

"Are you okay?" Her jeans, which have been painted with pretty pink flowers all around the hem, are ripped at the knee and there is blood starting to ooze out of scratches there. She glances down at the blood and then back up to Lucas, and her tears come just a little bit faster when the pain starts to settle in.

"My knees hurt."

"You want a cookie?"

She nods as a few tears start to dribble down her chin. Her parents reach them finally and smile down at them, her dad ruffling his hair while her mom leans down to stick the unicorn band-aids that were in her bag on her bloody knees.

He rushes back to his parents to grab the box of cookies.

His mom asks if she's okay, pushing her sunglasses up to sit in her hair. Lucas nods but doesn't answer, far too concerned with getting the cookies to the crying girl at the edge of the grass.

"Here," he lands on his knees beside her again and holds out the box so she can see the mismatched cookies. "Take one." He lowers his voice so his family don't hear, not wanting to upset his little sister. "But take one of the neat ones. They're my mom's."

She sniffles, nods and takes a neatly-iced pink cookie from the top of the pile. As soon as she bites into it, her face lights up and the tears all but dry up completely. Her parents look stunned by her quick change in demeanour.

"I love it! Can I have some more?"

"''Course. Wanna come sit with us? We have lemonade too."

"Yes please!" But then, realising that she can't just invite herself, she turns her attention to her parents who mull it over for all five seconds before shrugging and leading the way over to the Danes' picnic basket.

His dad tugs Pamela into a hug as soon as she sits down, best friends from grade five. They'd barely left each other alone since. Lucas can just remember meeting Shelley for the first time, standing in the hospital room as her mom leant down to show him her chubby cheeks and smatterings of hair. He'd poked his finger into her cheek and watched as her eyes opened to stare right up at him, like pools of ink. They've lightened now into a pretty brown, the colour of leaves falling off the trees in Fall.

Shelley sits between him and Liz on the blanket and eats half the cookies. He doesn't even mind, just happy that she's stopped crying. He makes a promise to himself that he's always going to be the one to stop her crying, no matter how old they are, because he doesn't like the way she looks when she's sad.

"Do you want to be best friends?" she asks, holding out half of a cookie to him. The other she quickly slots between her teeth.

Lucas cannot stop the grin that spreads apart his lips. "'Course I do."

How long do promises last when you don't speak them out loud?