It was one week before her sister's wedding and all Alice could think of was finding a groom better suited. All her sister and mother could think of were the little details that would delight attendees and give their family a firm, upstanding place in society.
"Isn't the continuation of father's legacy firm and upstanding enough?" Alice spoke to herself aloud, her voice readily caught by the ear of her kin.
"Alice, dear," her mother shook her head, "that would be our family, Margaret here is going to establish a new one. She'll have a new name."
"A new name?" She looked to her sister, "But, what's wrong with the one you've already got?"
"Alice," her sister laughed like the chimes on her windowsill, "it's what we women do. Society has established it as normal and proper. Why, someday you'll have a new name too."
"I will not!" Alice spoke indignantly, weaving around the people on the busy London streets, trying to keep up with the excited pace of her family. "I like my name just the way it is."
Her mother and sister stopped abruptly and Alice had to steer herself from plowing into them. "Ah, here we are!" said the mother, ignoring her youngest child's statement. "The Hatter's Shoppe. All the ladies will be needing fascinators for the event."
Through the windows, Alice stared at the curios with wonderment. There were hats made of soft felt, light yarns, lacey bonnets, large brimmed statements of hats, small circles with feathers and beads that one would struggle to truly call a hat. "Come along, Alice," her mother grabbed her wrist as they pushed their way inside. "You'll be the model for the bridesmaids. Now, I've heard the man is a little eccentric," her mother's nose shriveled, "but you will hold your tongue, won't you? …Alice?" Her voice wavered as she noticed her child's hand was no longer in her own. What ever would she do with that curious girl?
Alice was trailing her fingers along the various samples, feeling from scratchy wool to feather softness. The beads and bobbles rolled beneath her fingertips. Here indeed was a material she'd never seen before, a curled orange type of wire, she grabbed with both hands feeling the bounce and fullness.
It was then that she'd heard the uproarious laughter, "That tickles, you know." Impossibly green eyes looked up at her from behind the shelf.
"Oh!" She squealed, realizing her hands were still entangled in his hair. She swiftly retracted them to her chest. "What were you doing behind that shelf? I thought you were a mannequin. Why, your skin is so pale that I…" she blinked and swallowed as the man titled his head. She wasn't entirely sure he wasn't a mannequin.
"Oh, there you are Alice! I see you've found Mister Hatter. He'll be assisting us with the fascinators."
The Hatter did not answer her mother, nor did he even look at her. He kept his eyes trained on Alice's, moving towards her, around her in an appraising circle. She'd never known a gaze to reach out and touch her, how could she ever expect one to engulf her?
"Mother…" Alice broke his intense stare to give her a beseeching look.
"Oh, come now, Alice. Genius is… well, it's a different breed." Her eyebrows crumpled before taking their rightful place on her face. "Now, Margaret and I will be heading out the run some other errands for the wedding. We know that we are leaving you in highly capable hands. We'll be back before supper."
"But, mother!" Alice took a step forward.
"Be a good girl, Alice! It's for your sister."
For Margaret. Her stomach dropped as the two of them exited with the sound of the tin bell on the door. It was a sinking feeling, her feet dissolving into the floor as she imagined the horrible fate of an untruthful, unfaithful husband. No one deserved that. Least of all her sister.
Her stomach suddenly lifted, along with a lock of her hair, as the hatter tenderly pulled a length of it between his fingertips. She was about to ask what on Earth he was doing when she noted the mottled bandages wrapped around several of his finger tips; a thimble on his thumb and a pin cushion at his wrist, several ribbons spilling forth from his shirt sleeve. He certainly was a different breed, something she had never seen before in the banality of England. Were all hatters this way, or was it just hers? "You ought to do something about those fingers you know," Alice spoke. She shivered when he hummed an answer, brushing the strands away from the back of her neck and leaving it bare. "They could get infected," she went on as a sudden nervousness caught her tongue, "I've known several of my childhood friends who-"
"Tea time!" The Hatter shouted triumphantly, letting her hair fall heavily against her back.
She stood for a moment in awe as he took a seat at the work table, pouring one pipping cup from a kettle she did not know was on. He knocked a project down in a flurry, grabbing a treat from a plate previously hidden by the hat. The Hatter blew the steam off his dainty porcelain, flowered chalice, staring at her all the while. "What?" Her eyebrows knitted together. "Do you… want me to sit down?"
"Why, yes," she noted a slight lisp to his voice, "it is tea time, after all." He looked at her as if she were the strange one.
"Oh, of course." She decided to go along with it, aiming for the seat to his left.
"No, no, that one is much too uncomfortable. Here, try the one to my right." She nodded stiffly and took her seat.
He was near taking a sip, when he stopped suddenly and put it down. "Silly me," he laughed, "this cup is more of an Alice, isn't it? I have a green one in the cupboard." He got up swiftly as he placed the cup in front of her with a small splash on the table. He riffled around until he shouted "Aha!" retrieving the aforementioned cup and taking an altogether new seat on her right. She laughed at the absurdity as he sloppily dropped sugar cubes into his tea. "There we are," he said with a soft grin. It was then that she noticed the slight gap in his front teeth.
"What?" She picked up her porcelain cup.
"That's the first time your smile has shown its face all day."
"You mean that my face has smiled?"
"No, my Alice, a smile has a face all of its own." He beamed then, and she had to agree.