Page 22 of Begin Again

He lifted his head after a minute. There was a smile on her lips, a softness to her eyes. Not an innocence that was there years ago. He wasn’t sure he’d see that again. But the softness, yes, that was more than enough.

7

A Challenge

“Did you do anything for Easter today?” Amanda asked Liz at work that night. They hadn’t punched in yet for their shift. They both always got there twenty minutes early just in case, but would stand back until it was time, as they were told enough unless they were called in.

“I had dinner with my father and sister,” she said. “It’s not much of a holiday for us. It’s not like we’ve got kids or anything. How about you?”

Liz never cared about most holidays as an adult since it gave her double time to work. Just like today.

It’s not like she was lying. She’d cooked dinner at her father’s house for the three of them. She’d wanted to do it at her house, but she didn’t have seating for three, nor all the pots and pans she’d need to bake the ham that her father wanted.

It was their family tradition to do that and she’d stick with it.

“The kids were excited to get up and see what the Easter Bunny left them. They are getting to the point where I’m not sure if they believe still. Or at least my oldest.”

“How old is Landon?” she asked of Amanda’s oldest.

“He’s ten. I think he’s playing with us, but Bella is six and she believes so even if Landon doesn’t, I’m happy he’s keeping it to himself.”

“I was like that with Abby. I’m seven years older than her. It was nice to keep the secret. Or at least feel as if I knew something she didn’t.”

“I’m sure your parents were thrilled you did that,” Amanda said.

“My father was,” she said. “My parents were divorced by then and we lived with my father.”

“Oh,” Amanda said. She didn’t often say that, but it wasn’t a secret either.

Most times kids ended up with the mother and not the father. Or at least a split custody agreement.

But in her family that didn’t happen.

Her mother had left and they didn’t hear from her for months until they realized she was in a mental institution. Her father had been called and went to see her mother.

Lily Sherman had gone off her meds once again. Her father was fed up with living the life they were.

Liz remembered the meltdowns more than Abby did. It was fine. At eleven, and Abby four, it's something you can’t forget no matter how much her father hoped that wasn’t the case.

No one wanted to feel as if they were abandoned and she was glad her father worked extra hard to make sure his two daughters didn’t.

“Not a big deal,” she said.

“Do you talk to your mother?” Amanda asked. She didn’t talk too much about her personal life. She never did. But people asked and were curious.

“When she comes around,” she said. “It’s not often.”

Her mother was still in the area, she was sure. In some group home or something. She just couldn’t live on her own. Or she could have if she took her meds, but she didn’t want to.

When you don’t want help when people are trying to give it to you, then you learn most will walk away.

It's what her father had to do to protect himself and her and her sister. Liz understood that now.

“At least you spent the holiday with your sister and father. Did you cook at your new place?”

“No,” she said, laughing. She’d rather talk about the massive house she had and get ready for the jokes about the amount of work it needed. She was fine with it. It was a challenge she was more than willing to take on.

“Let me see what you did so far,” Amanda said. “I know you had to have done something. You showed me the before pictures.”

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