Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.
till sunbeams find you
Madge's mother has her radio on as the rain patters away on the roof, rolls down the window panes in thick trails.
There'll be no going outside today, no playing in the garden or going to visit Poppa in the sweet shop. Madge is stuck in the house with Mrs. Oberst reorganizing the kitchen and her mother sitting in bed.
Her father had to go in to work, even though it was Saturday and he was supposed to be home with her.
"I'll be back in a jiffy," he'd told her, almost three hours ago.
She held out little hope for him to be home before dinner with each new burst of rain.
The day is going to be a waste.
Flopping back on her mother's bed, Madge sighs and watches the fan overhead spin in lazy circles. "I'm bored."
The bed bounces, the comforter, a fluffy warm thing, shifts around Madge and her mother's face pops into view, blocking the fan with her smile.
"Do you want to dance, love?"
She doesn't wait for an answer, just grabs Madge by the hands and pulls her from the bed and begins dancing.
Legs dangling as her mother spins with her, Madge begins laughing.
"Momma! I'm dizzy!" She squeals as her mother laughs, bright and clear and happy.
They don't stop. With each change in the beat her mother starts a new dance, spinning and twirling, Madge's head just barely missing the ground as she's dipped down during the flourishing end of the song.
They're both breathless and laughing before the last note plays.
When the song ends, fades into something slower, she lets Madge down, but doesn't let her go. Her cool hands take Madge's and they begin swaying to the woman on the radio's full tones, her mesmerizing voice.
"Your father and I used to dance to this song," her mother says, her gaze far away, fixed on some point in time.
Madge smiles up at her, at the contented expression on her mother's face, then flings her arms around her middle, pressing her cheek to her stomach. "Before I was born?"
Delicate fingers weave through Madge's hair, gently combing it as she hums along with the woman. Her mother sighs. "Before you were born."
Nodding, Madge closes her eyes and tries to imagine her parents dancing, gently twirling in the middle of a room. Maybe the community center, they have dances there sometimes, though her mother has never shown any interest in going to Madge's recollection.
"Was daddy a good dancer?" Madge asks, tilting her head up, chin to her mother's stomach.
Her mother laughs again. "He was terrible. Stepped all over my feet."
That makes Madge glance down at her own feet to make sure she isn't mashing her mother at that very moment.
The door to the bedroom opens and Madge expects for Mrs. Oberst to peek in, snap at Madge for making too much noise and tell her mother she has some tea ready for her.
Instead of their cranky old housekeeper, Madge's father leans against the frame of the door, smiling at the pair of them.
Madge breaks from her mother, races across the room and throws herself at her father. He catches her and tosses her up, letting her fall back down into his arms and into a hug. "Learning to dance, Pearl?"
Grinning, Madge nods. "Momma said you was a terrible dancer."
Her father chuckles, shifts her on his hip. "Did she? Well, then, I suppose I need to redeem myself, don't I?"
He takes Madge's hand, spins into the room and causing Madge to squeal again in delight. They waltz over to her mother and her father reaches out.
With a grin, she bows and takes his hand, lets him pull her into a hug as he slows the dance down to a gentle sway to the music.
Curling her arm around his neck, Madge nestles her head against his shoulder, inhales the scent of rain from his clothes and hair. Her mother's eyes drift shut as she continues to hum to the music.
It's not quite playing outside, but it's not quite a waste either.