The Sun and Moon and Stars

Chapter XX

It had only been a few months since she had left home, but Frances felt as if she was dreaming. The house didn't seem real. She felt like she could reach out and brush away.

"Miss?"

She turned around where the cab driver waited anxiously for his fare. Her mouth pulled in an attempt to smile and she handed him the money. She wasn't used to taking a cab, and she hated parting with so much money, but she hadn't had time to let her family know of her arrival. She herself had hardly been prepared for it.

"Are you okay, miss?" he asked. His dark mustache seemed to smile at her.

She shook her head, but caught herself and changed it to a nod. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

He didn't seem convinced, but he tipped his cap and the cab puttered away down the cobblestone street.

She turned back to the home, attached on either side to their neighbors with a steep flight of steps leading up to the single front door. It was nearly identical to all the other houses on the street. The only thing that set it apart was the beautiful black iron gate that separated stairs from walking path and the brightly painted front door and window shutters. Blue door, and yellow shutters.

She dragged her trunk inside the gated yard and pulled it up the stairs, one step at a time. The weather was muggy and her collar stuck to the back of her neck. Her hair flew about her face. She hoped she had looked a little more put together on the train.

She yanked the trunk up the final step and stood in front of the door. She could hear someone jog up the stairs. The footsteps were light but hurried. Probably Harriet. She was probably scurrying about trying to get her wedding planned and her things in order.

And then she heard a young male voice call out. She couldn't make out the words but it definitely sounded like Michael, her youngest brother. A slightly lower voice replied. Andrew, the second youngest.

And then the door was yanked open and the two boys nearly walked into Frances. They yelped and jumped back. She nearly fell back down the stairs.

"Frances!" Michael cried. "What!"

He disappeared back into the house, shouting, "Mother! Father!"

Andrew stood fast in the doorway. "Frances," he said after a moment. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, but her eyes began to sting. "Yes, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

She hiccupped. "Probably because I'm not fine."

He threw himself onto her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She dropped her carpetbag and held him tightly.

When they pulled away, she ruffled his dark curly hair. "You've grown," she said, through a chuckle as she tried to hide the frog in her throat.

"You've gotten thinner," he remarked.

Frances looked down at herself. Her dress did seem a bit ill fitting. "Have I?"

He nodded, his brow puckered.

A new face suddenly appeared over his shoulders.

"Frances!" her mother grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in. "Why didn't you send word that you'd be returning?" she asked, pushing a strand of Frances' hair behind her ear. "Why, you look positively famished. Andrew, could you be a dear and have Cuppie take out a plate of food for your sister? That's a good boy."

"Come," she pulled her daughter in towards the kitchen. "You can have your dinner now and then settle back into your room.."

France turned back to the door. "But what about my things? Oh." Andrew had already dragged them inside.