(4 months later)
Pelle smiled lightly at her mom and Jim over the brim of her cup. They'd stopped at a small café on their way back into the city and she'd settled for just tea. Her sisters had come home with them this time, just for a little while; they wanted to spend some time with Jim. He and her mom had come to New Orleans from Italy married and glowing with the excitement of it all.
The announcement had been the first thing they blurted out as they burst into Pelle's bedroom at her aunt's humble estate. The eldest sister, Amy, leaned over and tapped Pelle every now and again. She kept wanting her to look at the sights and gawk at the way winter crept out of the city.
It was almost spring now. The snow had melted and the trees wore their buds proudly. The house was finished eight months ahead of schedule. Jim was the first person she'd met who had enough money to pay people to work faster. He shot off another one of his rather corny jokes and they all giggled. She smiled and turned to look out of her window. It was getting dark out and the streetlights were beginning to flicker on. That's when she saw it. The old diner that she'd been stranded at the first night she'd met the Mercers.
They were close to home, and she was totally unprepared for it. Her heart raced in her chest and her eyes must have glazed over because Amy leaned in to ask if she was okay. "I'm fine," Pelle fibbed, "Just nervous to see the house again." Amy nodded and looked satisfied. It was her mother that stared at her with a constant, knowing expression. She flashed her daughter a quick smile before her eyes flicked back to the window and filled with awe.
Pelle followed her mother's gaze as the limo slowed to a stop in front of their house. The old house stood like a tall, extravagant beacon against the melting snow. A large f-u to their poor inner-city neighbors. The construction workers had stacked a whole extra story onto the old second story. It was restored and done in a soft tan that was so close to white that only the remaining patches of snow showed the difference.
They all piled out of the limo, leaving Pelle to slide out last. Stepping out into the old familiar setting she felt like a totally different person. She nodded and smiled at the limo driver as her shut the door behind them and paced around to get back in. He eased off down the street and, with the buzz of the limo engine gone; she could hear the small, short barking.
Her gaze slid over into the Mercers' yard and there, at the edge of the gat closest to her, was Ruffles. She smiled and walked into their own yard to get closer. "Hey, boy," she chirped at him. He fell into a fit of frantic barking and jumping.
"Pelle," came a voice that was only vaguely familiar now. She looked up and stood up quickly after. Camille was standing there on the walkway, just off the staircase that led into their home.
"Hi Camille," she said, "How are you?" Camille walked closer and Pelle worried about how the conversation was going to go. The worry didn't last long though. Even though they hadn't ended on the best of terms, Camille's eyes held no hostility.
"I…we've been fine," she replied. "Its good to see you back."
Pelle nodded. She brought a hand up to tuck some of her straightened hair behind her ear as the silence grew. It'd grown in New Orleans and now it swung to the tops of her thighs when straightened. She kept it straightened now. "Camille," she began, "I'm not sure if its too late, but I want to apologize for the way I left. It wasn't…well, it wasn't right."
Camille held up a hand, "It's fine. No harm done at all. I'm just glad to see you back. You were missed." Something glittered behind her eyes while she said the last but before Pelle could inquire another voice called from up towards the house.
"Pelle," it was Jack this time. His hair had been cut shorter and his skin had lost its winter pale complexion for a slightly tanner one. He was at the gate before he spoke again, "Its good to see you. You here to stay this time?"
"Yeah," she smiled, "And I brought some family with me this time." As if summoned, the middle sister, Rae, came to stand at the top of the long staircase. Pelle glanced back at her briefly and turned back to Jack and Camille. "I have to go. Maybe later we can all catch up."
"Definitely," they both chimed. Jack bent down and picked up Ruffles and passed him over the fence to Pelle. "Here," he spoke, voiced laced with laughter, "Now that he knows you guys are home he'd only bark us into madness."
Pelle smiled and took a firm hold of the squirming dog. "Talk to you guys later," she said. They nodded and she turned around to head up into the house. Before she stepped inside she turned to see them slipping into their own house and closing the door behind them. She sat Ruffles down inside and let him make a run for the kitchen.
Pelle turned to close the door and, on her way, she caught a glimpse of the old car pulling up to the curb in front of the Mercer home. She stood, enthralled for a moment. The taillights shut off and the driver side door opened. She only caught a glimpse of his face, scrunched into its smug lines. He paused in the street, eyes caught by the light shining through the open door in Pelle's house. Pelle shut the door but not before he'd gotten a glimpse of her standing, silhouetted by the soft indoor lights. He shoved his car door closed and shuffled into the house without sparing another glance nextdoor.