A/N: I figured that I'd post the oneshot for the first chapter for everyone who hasn't read that, but don't worry. I'm posting the next chapter today too in the interests of fairness.
December 7, 1952
At six years old, Lorna knew a couple of things. She knew that the ceiling dripped when it rained, that there were mice under the floorboards. She knew that her clothes were mended in many ways and places, more than the other girls at school. She knew that the girls at school were jerks for making fun of it.
She knew that she preferred snow to the summer, that her favorite color was green, like the eyes that she shared with her mother. She knew that the town they lived in was rundown and struggling. Lorna knew that she had no father.
She also knew that she loved her mother. Her mother was beautiful and light, always with a smile for anyone. Lorna was six, still old enough to be tucked in, and she saw that her mother's hands were calloused. The rest of her was so delicate, but her skin was rough from hard work. She'd often met her at the diner she worked at after school, balancing a dozen trays at once. She'd seen her mother sigh and fall asleep on the couch, too tired to move to her own rickety bed from late nights at her job.
More than once Lorna had wished for something to make her mother happy. She knew that her mother was happy with her, but she had a vague, uneasy feeling that she wasn't happy with her life. It was a difficult idea for a six-year-old to wrap their head around, and even harder to try to fix.
What would make her happy? Christmas was around the corner, and she'd imagined that she could get her something beyond her usual popsicle stick art from school. Lorna was all out of gift ideas though, and she only had seventy cents in her piggy bank. There was no chance that she was going to be able to get her mother something nice.
A good gift might have been her good behavior, but she'd failed at that. Lorna touched her black eye and swung her legs over the chair. It was faint, but it was still there. Santa Claus would put her on the naughty list for sure for this. Her mother hated fighting, and she knew that she would be disappointed.
She bowed her head as she saw her mother come out of the principal's office. The principal looked angry and her mother looked serene.
"I certainly will ask my daughter to stop using her fists to solve arguments," her mother said, her voice airy, "And I recommend that you teach your students to confine their language to the bounds of decency."
Her mother turned away from the principal and took Lorna's hand. Lorna got up, swinging her books next to her. She knew that she was still in trouble, that her mother was still angry, but she didn't know what else to do.
The walk back to their rickety apartment was quiet. She looked at the snow around them and shivered in her coat. It was winter break now, and she knew that she'd gotten off to a miserable start. Lorna wondered what she could do to get off the naughty list.
Her mother opened the door and shut it behind her. It squeaked. She knelt down in front of Lorna and began undoing her scarf. Lorna shrugged off her coat and hung it off, still upset.
"Sit on the couch," she said, her voice soft, "And then we'll talk."
Lorna nodded. She sat on the couch as her mother did something in the kitchen. When she came out again she had two cups of hot chocolate. Lorna blinked. She only got hot chocolate when she was really good.
"Take a sip," her mother said.
Lorna did so, holding the warm mug in her hands.
"Now," her mother said, her voice gentle, "What happened?"
Looking down Lorna counted the swirls in the hot chocolate.
"It was my turn on the slide," Lorna said.
Her mother nodded.
"But Mabel cut," Lorna said, "So I told her not to. She laughed."
Lorna took another sip.
"So I cut in front of her and she got mad," Lorna said, "Mabel said that I was a...I don't wanna say it, and that you were a..."
She trailed off.
"Don't wanna say it," Lorna said.
"And then you hit her," her mother said.
"And then her brother hit me," Lorna said.
She wished that she'd seen Mabel's brother a few kids down. She hadn't though.
"And then you kicked him and pulled his hair," her mother said.
Lorna nodded.
"Lorna, you shouldn't have hurt them," her mother said.
"They hurt me," Lorna said, "I don't want them name-calling."
Her mother sighed. She put down her own mug and walked over to Lorna. She put a hand on her shoulder.
"It makes me sad when you do these things," her mother said.
"I know," Lorna said.
"It hurts worse than what they say," her mother said, "I won't have you getting in trouble for me."
Lorna nodded again, feeling small and tired.
"I'm sorry you're upset," Lorna said.
"Are you sorry for fighting?" Susanna asked.
The real answer was 'no,' but since it had made her mother upset and she was sorry for that, Lorna figured that it was almost the same thing.
"Yes," Lorna said.
She looked at her mug.
"Am I on the naughty list?" she asked.
Her mother laughed.
"Only if you don't clean your room tonight," she said.
Lorna grinned. She finished her hot chocolate and her mother got up. Her mother began picking up her books and Lorna felt better. She wouldn't fight in the future, and then it would be fine. Well, she would try.
She looked out the window, her legs swinging again. Lorna frowned.
"Mom?" she asked.
"Yes?" her mother said.
"There's someone on the front," she said.
Her mother frowned. She walked into the living room and followed Lorna's gaze. Lorna watched her mother's face go pale. Her mother swallowed.
"Lorna, why don't you go and get started on your room?" she asked.
Lorna cocked her head.
"Who is it?" she asked.
"No one," her mother said, "Now go and get started on your room."
Lorna's frown deepened. She got up and hurried into her room. Once there, Lorna didn't hesitate. She wiped some of the cold mist off her window and, using the curtain as a shield, peeped out. She didn't think of herself as nosy: just curious.
The man was still standing on the sidewalk, looking uncertain. Her mother stepped out of the house and the man's eyes widened. Lorna squinted, wishing she could hear them.
Susanna stood in the front yard, her coat wrapped around her shoulders. She knew the man on the lawn, knew that he'd left her years ago. Susanna had known then that she would never see him again, never tell him about the parting gift that he'd unknowingly given her.
She knew that he'd left to do something dangerous, something she had begged him to forget. Susanna knew that he had left her without looking back, without saying goodbye. She had known then that there was no chance of Lorna knowing her father.
However, she also knew that he was in her front lawn, if it could be called that when it belonged to a small apartment. His face softened a little at the sight of her before he coughed, no doubt realizing the awkwardness of their positions.
"I heard that I might be able to find you here," he said.
Susanna continued to look at Erik, feeling her heart pounding inside her chest. She wanted to tell him to go away, to go back into her house and shut the door. She wanted to hate him, but she'd found that, even on her darkest nights, it was impossible. He was blameless: he hadn't known about Lorna.
She glanced back at the house, feeling uncertain.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
The smile slipped on his face a little.
"Nothing I suppose," he said, "I was...passing through."
He swallowed and looked around.
"My train stopped here. The next one's in an hour, and I got to wondering if you were still here," he said.
Susanna nodded. There had been no money to go anywhere else. Not with a baby.
"You look well," he said.
She blinked at him, wondering where that had come from. Susanna knew that she was too thin, that there were probably dark circles under her eyes. She wondered if it was just something people said, if she should say it back.
Susanna looked at him again, searching for something else.
"You're travelling light," she said.
He shrugged and looked at the one bag with him.
"It's easier that way," Erik said.
Susanna closed her eyes, feeling an old hurt inside of her. She'd been that baggage once upon a time. Part of her mind screamed to tell him about Lorna, but the selfish part of her mind wanted something else.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
Erik rubbed the back of his neck.
"I wanted to see you," he said, "That's all."
She breathed out. He shrugged once before turning away.
"I'd best get going," he said.
"Wait!" Susanna said.
He turned, looking surprised. She stepped off the porch and walked up to him, her breath freezing in front of her face.
"Erik...you...when you left..." she said.
"I didn't say goodbye," he said, "I know."
"Well, yes," she said.
He sighed.
"That wasn't fair to you but I didn't want to..." Erik said.
"Hurt me?" Susanna said.
He nodded.
"Erik, the pain I felt when you left without saying anything, without letting me know that I warranted a goodbye...it tore me apart," she said, "There was nothing. No address, no note, nothing. I had to find out from the doorman that you'd left the convalescent home."
Susanna knew her voice was getting louder, but she still remembered the anguish at learning that it was just her and her unborn child against the world.
"That's not what I meant to happen," Erik said.
"But it did," Susanna said, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, "You left me! After all those times I said I'd never leave you, all those promises, all of that, you just..."
Erik's face turned into a scowl. He gritted his teeth, struggling to keep some emotion down.
"Never mind," he said, "I'm sorry for coming here and bringing all that back. It was a mistake."
Feeling desperate she reached out and touched his arm. She had to find a way to tell him about Lorna.
"Erik," Susanna said.
His eyes slid to where her hand was, and he furrowed his brows.
"I'm sorry. You have a right to be angry," Erik said, "Of course you do. I had just wondered...nothing."
She shook her head.
"You don't get to say nothing again," Susanna said.
He looked back at her, almost as though memorizing her. She wondered if it was a new memory to go in a locked file of other memories, one that he would never look into again. She wondered how many other memories he had gotten rid of.
"You couldn't have said goodbye?" she murmured.
"No," he said, "Because..."
"Because?"
Erik reached out and touched her face.
"I would have asked you to come with me," he said, "It would have been stupid, and dangerous, but...that's not what you wanted. I didn't want you to see what I would...never mind."
His fingers traced the curve of her jaw to her chin, and she felt her breath catch. She felt like she was a teenager again, looking longingly at the man that she hoped loved her back, love that she'd yearned for after the pain of losing her parents, of feeling lost.
"It's alright," Susanna said.
He laughed, the sound harsh and bitter.
"Would any of my feelings even be welcome?" he asked, "I shouldn't have come back-"
Susanna tentatively reached up and clasped his wrist. His fingers stilled on her face, and she wondered if he only then realized that he was touching her. His eyes softened, a rare sight that she had treasured when she was younger, a sight that had convinced her that he'd loved her as much as she'd loved him. Susanna had known that she was young then, but there were only two people in her life that she'd loved with that kind of fire: Erik, and the daughter who had come to fill her life after he'd gone.
"You won't know until you tell me," she said.
He stared at her. His grip on her face tightened and he brought her face up in a searing kiss. Susanna smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him as tightly as she could.
Erik's grip loosened, and he pulled her close to him. He kissed her cheek, his lips close to her ear.
"Come with me," he said.
"What?" Susanna said.
"It's madness, I know, but it's too damn late," Erik said, "It's too late to let you go now. Come with me."
She swallowed.
"I can't," she said.
Erik stiffened.
"You're married, aren't you?"
The bitterness and jealousy in his voice was overpowering. Before she could answer she felt his grip tighten.
"You can't really love him if you're not pushing me away now," he said, "You can leave this place behind. I know you never liked it-"
"I'm not married," she said.
He looked at her, surprised.
"You're not?" he asked.
"Is it really such a shock?" Susanna asked.
"Yes," Erik said.
She raised her eyebrows.
"I just mean that...well, I had quite a bit of competition once upon a time," he said.
Susanna laughed. She knew she shouldn't be laughing, but she couldn't help it. She remembered the other boys, half of which had branded her a slut when they found out she was pregnant. A few others hadn't thought that dealing with a child was worth it, and she didn't have time for the others.
"I always told you that you didn't," she said, "But I can't go with you."
"Why not?" Erik asked.
She bit her lip and pulled away from him, trying to figure out something to say. Susanna had dreamed of the moment when she could tell Erik about Lorna, but her voice stuck in her throat. Her eye flickered around her, and she caught a pair of green eyes peering at her. Lorna ducked behind her window quickly and Susanna laughed again for the second time.
Erik turned to her, confused. She smiled.
"Erik, there's someone you need to meet," she said.
She looked back at the window and beckoned. Although she didn't see her daughter, she knew Lorna had seen. She'd always been a curious one. Susanna let go of Erik and took a step back. He was still staring at her, his expression between irritation and amusement. Then the door opened.
Lorna ran out, struggling to put her coat on. She stopped by Susanna, clutching onto her pant leg.
"Who's this mom?" she asked, her eyes shining with interest.
Erik's mouth dropped open. Susanna smiled gently and put her hand on Lorna's shoulders.
"Is she...how old is she?" Erik asked, his words halting.
"That's a funny question. I'm six mister," Lorna said.
Erik stared at her. Susanna gave a tiny nod. She knew he'd understood, but he didn't say anything. Her heart missed a few beats. What on earth was he thinking?
That morning Erik had known a few things. He'd known that he'd lost Shaw's trail yet again. He'd known that his train would take him through the small town that he'd once been a recipient of a government beneficiary program. He'd known that he would revisit the place where he'd left an innocent, naïve girl with bewitching green eyes. When the train had stopped, he'd known that he would never forgive himself unless he at least searched for some news of her.
Now he knew some other things. He knew that she still cared for him, when she shouldn't. He'd realized that leaving was going to be much harder than he'd thought and that, despite his misgivings, he wanted her with him. Then she'd called for a child, and his brain had stopped for a few seconds.
He knelt down in the snow.
"If you're six," he said, "Then I'm your father."
Lorna's gaped at him. She looked up at Susanna, who nodded. He looked up at her as well.
"And I know that I'm going to miss that train," Erik said.
Shaw could wait for a while.