Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I starting another one? Oh well! I got this idea randomly when I was playing A New Beginning the other day. I thought, you know I bet Rebecca has a really great story behind her life. And I thought that maybe people would be interested in reading what I think that story is. Read and review please! I REALLY want to know what you guys think of this idea.
Life was simple, boring even. By the time I had turned eighteen I took that as a fact. Growing up in Leaf Valley, there was very rarely anything interesting that happened. It was a small village, filled with ordinary people that lived out their ordinary lives. It wasn't to say I didn't enjoy their company, because I did, but I had gotten to the point in my life where I was suddenly faced with the unimaginable decision of what I was going to do with the rest of it. And I had no luck in the matter.
My father, the grocer, was adamant that the rest of my life was going to be spent running the family store. I never had the heart to tell him that was most definitely not what I wanted to do with my life. So instead, I would just nod every time he brought it up, and mumble something about how I would like that. Ever since my mom died, it had just been the two of us. He wasn't the world's most amazing dad, but he was still the best dad I could ever ask for. And I owed him at least the hope that his little girl would take over his store one day.
As for the rest of the town, there weren't too many people. There was Louis, the oddball inventor who owned the tool shop down the road. He was pretty shy, kept to himself most of the time, but he was practically incapable of being mean to anybody. He lived next door to Lyla, the woman who ran Leaf Valley's flower shop. She was the epitome of perfection. She had long, flowing pink hair, a sweet disposition, and those full, rose colored cheeks that just made guys fall all over themselves to get to her. But she was seemingly unaware of the affect she had on men's hearts, and as sweet as she was, she wasn't one to really be out talking to everybody
Bob and his little brother Tim worked the ranch on the other side of town. Bob was a big guy, intimidating to some, but to those of us who knew him well the biggest softy in the entire town. I only saw him occasionally, between his work hours and the nights he spent at the bar by the lake with Katie, Gwen, and the carpenter boys Kurt and Joe.
Other than them, the only person around town to talk to was Dia, who was basically the princess of Leaf Valley, if we had a monarchy that is. She lived in her lavish mansion on the other side of Brownie Ranch. She never left the area, ever. So she could sometimes be forgotten. Dia was one of my best friends though, ever since we were little. So that was why, even though it was incredibly out of my way, I stood up from my stool at around lunch time and packed up my supplies in order to make my way to her house.
I through my bag over my shoulder, picking my stool up off of the grass and staring at the three, little indents it left in the grass as I straightened myself up and turned for home. As I walked down the path from the Carpenters to the center of town, where my dad's shop stood along side our old, chicken coop. I hopped up the steps, opening the door to find my dad tidying up our pastry case.
"Rebecca," my dad said, cheerily. "I'm glad your home. Any chance you're headed to Dia's?"
I dropped my stool in the corner behind the door and shrugged my bag higher up on my shoulder. "Yeah I'm going to meet her for lunch now," I said. "Why?"
"I need you to drop these off with Martha," he replied. He walked over to the counter, and I followed close behind, leaning up against the old, wood as he squatted down to grab something from underneath.
"Dad." I threw my head back. "I told you, I am not your personal slave. I can't just make all of the deliveries because you don't want to."
He popped back up with a whicker basket and rolled his eyes. "No, but you are my daughter," he pointed out. "And it's your job to help out your old man when you can."
That made me smile, and as I grabbed the basket from the counter top I leaned in to kiss his cheek. "You're not that old, dad," I replied. I whisked off over to the door and pulled it open. "I'll see you tonight." From behind me I could hear him let out one of those deep, hearty laughs of his as the door swung shut.
"See you then, pumpkin," he called back.
I sauntered up toward the path to the northern part of town, waving at Lyla as I passed her in her flowerbed. She pulled lily out of her basket and handed it to me as I continued on toward Dia's.
Out on his porch, Bob cupped his hands over his mouth and called out for his little brother. "Have you seen him today, Rebecca?" he asked as I walked by.
As I turned the corner toward the gates to Dia's land I could see Tim peeking out from behind a stack of old boxes. "Not today, Bob," I replied, winking at Tim as I did so. He snickered and sunk lower behind the wooden frames. With that, I turned to wave one last time at Bob as he disappeared behind his house, and pushed passed the old, wooden gate on the other side of his land.
It was only a few minutes later that I could see the large, stone house coming into view. I shifted the basket onto my other arm, letting the handle rest in the crook of my elbow. It was the beginning of spring, and all of the snow had finally melted from the town. It was nice to see the sun shining through the trees that day as I made my way up the path to the giant, stone arch. Birds were fluttering around between the trees, and the small wild flower patch was starting to sprout up in the far, right corner by the hills.
When I reached the door I knocked instinctively, only to be greeted by Dia's main, Gina.
"Good afternoon, Miss Rebecca," she said quietly.
I rolled my eyes and smiled. "Gina, how many times do I have to tell you? It's just Rebecca. You're not my maid."
Gina flashed me that small, timid smile of hers and motioned me into the large, sitting room just beyond the staircase.
"Thanks," I said. "Oh, and would you mind giving these to Martha? My dad sent them."
"Of course, Miss Rebecca."
In the other room, Dia sat in her usual seat just by the fireplace. I walked over to the large, white table in the middle of the room and placed the basket down, causing her to jump and glance over at me.
"Becky!" she said excitedly. She jumped up from her seat and ran over to me, engulfing me in a hug. "Thank goddess you came. It has been so boring here today."
As she walked back over to pick up the book she so casually threw on the floor, I grabbed the spare vase on the other side of the room and placed the lily Lyla had given me into it.
"Funny," I said. "You say that just about every day when I come to visit."
"Because it's true every day," she said simply.
I turned back to her and placed my hands on my hips. "Then why don't you do something about it?" I said. "Like leave the house."
Dia just slumped back into her seat and opened up her book again. "And do what? Sit and watch you draw? No thanks, I think I'll stay here."
"Or," I began. "You could go talk to someone. There are other people that live in this town you know."
"Why would I go out of my way to visit other people, if other people don't go out of there way to visit me?"
"I visit you," I pointed out.
"Yes," she said. "And I love you for that. Moving on…"
She threw her feet back up onto the stool in front of her and turned back to her book, which was her way to signal the end of the discussion. Rather than put up a fight, I just sighed and let my head sink down. She could be so stubborn sometimes.
Much like every other afternoon with Dia, I imagined that I would be spending the time sketching out yet another pointless picture in my note pad. That's why without even thinking, I yanked my bag up onto the table and started to rummage through it for my pencil. I could see Dia glance over at me out of the corner of her eye, but much like every other day, she turned back to wait until I was settled to ask if she could see my latest drawings.
Dia was very routine-based. She spent her entire day in that Library of hers, with the occasional break to roam around the garden. So it was safe to say I almost had every inch of that room in my notebook. Everything except for her fireplace. Much like every other afternoon, I spent the first five minutes just standing there, staring at the marble masterpiece that was her fireplace. It was so intricate. The carvings along the side were etched with finer detail than I had ever seen on anything ever. There were so many different curves to it that somehow all seemed to swirl together to create this little piece of perfection. And much like every other afternoon, I ended that five minutes of staring with a sigh of defeat and rough plop into my chair.
"Will you just start it already?" Dia said from a cross the room. "You know it's going to be amazing."
"D, there is no way I can depict that fireplace in a way that will do any justice to it whatsoever," I replied. "I need to get better first."
She put her book down on the table and reached over to grab my sketchpad. "Yeah if that's possible," she said. She flipped through the pages, landing on the one I had worked on just before heading over. It was rough an unfinished, but I knew better than to put up a fight about it. "You know, you seriously are amazing at this stuff," she said after a long pause. "It's a shame you don't see that for yourself." Then, she handed the book back over to me and turned back to her own. So I just sat back and stared once again at that damn fireplace, hoping that maybe today would be the day I would actually draw it.