Author's Note: Alice/her sister belong to Walt Disney Studios; Elizabeth/the story are mine. Enjoy and please review!
A little girl with a bow in her flaxen curls and dimpled cheeks ran through a daisy field as her mother and aunt watched from beneath a tree. Her name was Elizabeth, but everyone called her Lizzie, even her mother, and she was searching for a white rabbit. She had seen one once when she was three and had been looking ever since. If her mother's stories were correct, once she found the rabbit, she would find Wonderland.
The aunt, Josephine was her name, sighed as she shook her head.
"You really shouldn't fill her head with nonsense Alice," the older lady chastised. "It won't do her any good once she's older and in the real world."
Alice shrugged, not heeding her sister's words. She hadn't since she was a little girl, so why should she start now at twenty-three?
"Oh Josie, why do you have to be such a realist? It won't hurt Lizzie to have fun." After all, this was her child. Alice was allowed to raise her daughter whatever way she saw fit, despite what her upper crust family seemed to think.
The elder of the two sisters smirked. "Someone has to be between the two of us. You're always the one day dreaming."
Alice rolled her eyes in response. "Yes, well my day dreaming has given me a substantial career. I can at least provide for my child without a man's help, unlike some people." Her career being writing for the local newspaper. She gave her sister an icy look before focusing back on her daughter. Lizzie had tossed aside her white apron along with her penny loafers and had begun scavenging the riverside for evidence of rabbit tracks.
Before replying to her sister's comment, Josephine took the chance to warn her niece of a possible tragedy. "Don't fall in the river Lizzie!"
A distant call of "yes Auntie Josie" was heard from the six year old.
"Oh yes, how could I forget! You're the famous writer now. Too good for your own family I suppose. Or a man for that matter," Josie quipped.
Alice smirked, leaning back against the trunk of the oak tree as her braid of blonde ticked her neck. "Despite what you think, I'm not opposed to a male companion. I just haven't found the right one since Lizzie's father left." Yes, she had been married once. It seemed like such a different time now. She could hardly imagine being united with a man, but as she had said, she wasn't opposed to it. Alice just wasn't sure how many men wanted an independent woman. If her parents couldn't accept it, how could she expect a stranger to?
Josie sighed softly, regretting her earlier comment. "I'm sorry Sister. I always seem to forget about Drew. Has he sent any money lately?"
The writer shook her head. "No, but I don't expect him to. He has three mouths to feed with his new family now. I don't think he even remembers he has a daughter."
Lizzie's father had ended the marriage when the babe was just one. Since then, Alice had been writing for the newspaper to bring in income and stayed with her sister to save on expenses. Although Josie too had been married, her husband had died due to a workplace accident. Now it was a house of three ladies, all surprisingly different even though they were blood related.
"Would you like to go back to the house for tea? I do believe it's about time," Josie suggested. Alice readily agreed and slipped on her penny loafers.
"I'll meet you back at the house. Lizzie will take a lot of convincing." The sisters shared a chuckle before they parted ways. Alice jogged over to where her daughter was crouched and tickled her sides to surprise her.
Lizzie squawked but once she realized it was her mother, she eagerly pulled her hand to show her something. "Mama look! Rabbit tracks!" The honeysuckle girl exclaimed.
Alice chuckled. "Good eye darling. But I don't think these are from the white rabbit. They're too small, more like a baby bunny." Lizzie stared at the footprints for a moment before reluctantly agreeing with her mother.
"Now come along dear, Auntie Josie and Mama need their tea." And so they young ladies headed off for home, thoughts of the white rabbit still nibbling both their imaginations.