Saturday's Lady

Five

Anne still stung from Emma's harshness.

She knew Emma didn't really mean it. She knew that it was just exhaustion and frustration speaking, that something was weighing on Emma's mind.

But what if Emma really did mean it? What if there was some genuine element of annoyance more than weariness- more truth than anything else? The thought only made her cry harder.

Anne sat behind the tree for a long time, even after the tears stopped. Everything moved more slowly, greyer, and she closed her eyes to avoid seeing it. 

A long time passed beneath that tree, as her heart collapsed.

Out here... out here there is nobody. Nobody really values me for who I am, they only care that I'm different. They don't want me.

I want to go home.

But where is home? Is it back where I was born? Is it here in Running Creek, and am I missing something? What if I'm just not meant to belong?

I don't think I'm supposed to be here. Maybe...

Anne stood, wiping the tears from her cheeks, and she began to walk.

The train station was just ahead. In a trance she stepped towards it, onto the platform, and sat on the bench by the ticket office.

I could go. I don't know where. I don't care.

Am I silly for this? It's just been a hard day for both Emma and I. That's all.

But Anne knew that this was so much more than that.

She stepped away from the empty platform and turned away, hoping that someday she wouldn't have to walk back towards the house.

*****

The Byers house was far more ornate than Emma could dream. It was almost disgusting, how rich people could just throw away money on useless decor, when children were starving three streets down...

But Emma walked in anyways, besides Mrs. Remigrant, with her white- gloved hands against the taupe of her evening dress and her face subtly changed by cosmetics again. 

"This is Mr. Byers- Mr Byers, my niece, Emma Remigrant." Mrs. Remigrant gestured to the middle-aged man across from her. Emma curtsied with a smile as she'd been taught, bored but hungry- and the smell from the kitchen was wonderful.

"A pleasure, Mr. Byers," she said politely.

"Welcome to my home." He gestured towards the dining room. "Follow me. There's only a few other people here; we're waiting on the Taylors to start."

Mrs Remigrant stiffened; she liked being first to all the parties and tonight she was second-last. Emma didn't mind. In the past few weeks she'd been so early to parties that she had had to make awkward conversation with the hostess- or worse, that time two weeks ago when she'd had to chat with the hostess's handsome young son. 

Emma's name was on a card next to a young man with jet-black hair and sideburns. His card read Mr. Liniski. Nobody else was at the table- with Emma, Mrs. Remigrant, and Mr and Mrs. Byers, the total would come to five. Emma hoped that there were at least two Taylors.

"Ah, so you are Miss Remigrant," said the young man- Mr. Liniski. "I had no idea that Mrs. Remigrant had a niece, but I did hear about you." He stood to pull our Emma's chair so she could sit.

"Thank you," she replied with a plain smile, brushing her skirt beneath her as she sat. "I am afraid to ask what you have heard."

He laughed and sat himself, and out of the corner of her eye Emma saw Mrs. Remigrant shoot her a smile. "I haven't heard much, other than that you'd come from nowhere to Denver. Tell me, do you like it here?"