Chapter 6: Edea's House
Quistis | June 18
Quistis stood before the colossal temple front of Edea's newly remodeled home. The ivory sheen of the Doric columns afforded the place an ambience of quiet grandeur. A warm yellow glow emanated from the transom window above the main entrance. The sounds of bright laughter and clattering dishes floated through the partially open door, carried by the temperate breeze of the Centran coastline.
Upon entering the old orphanage, she was greeted with a space that seamlessly blended the interior and exterior environments in an ode to comfort and rejuvenation. There were vibrant plants occupying every nook and cranny, and abundant windows everywhere she turned. Bifold glass doors opened onto a grassy patch of yard where she could see Cid and Squall resting on a wicker bench. Edea was humming a sweet tune while preparing hors d'oeuvres in the kitchen. The Calacatta gold marble countertop glimmered beneath recessed lighting as Irvine set out plates and cutlery and Avery diced up fruits and vegetables. Selphie and Zell appeared to be passionately disputing the accuracy of a childhood memory while Rinoa was sitting off in a corner attempting to teach Angelo a new trick.
Quistis' heart ascended. There was no greater picture of community, no words she could use to describe the immense love and acceptance that she felt from being a part of this family.
Seifer Almasy was missing from this scene.
She had neither seen nor spoken with him since the time of his illness. At the conclusion of Training Week she had been sent out on a mission, only to discover upon her return that Seifer was dispatched to the Presidential Palace in Esthar for a long-term diplomatic stay. In the eyes of others he might have been an unlikely choice for such an important visit, but Quistis knew how he could flip deftly to SeeD mode when the situation called for it, whether it was digging into the debris of a crumbling social system or flexing his acting chops as a disguised civilian. In all of this, Seifer would always manage to defy human capabilities (even if he got himself into a spot of trouble along the way). It was one of the qualities she truly respected about him.
Their time together had been sheltered yet blissful. She recalled the incessant giddiness as if bucking some unspoken rules. The clandestine operation of sneaking into and out of his room. The bracing thrill of simply following her heart.
It was second nature to jab one another in jest and spar with each other for practice, not to mention all of the countless instances in which they had spitefully pushed, pulled, and hit the other when they were growing up—but the way their hands had touched that night had been of an entirely different flavor. Seifer's gaze had penetrated her as if laying out his personal mission statement. There had been ardor, so much of it. The kind that could consume his enemies in one go. Yet it was counterbalanced by a softness that could allay her even at her worst. Before she knew what was happening, Seifer had become her unanticipated tale of late-night longing.
"Hey, Quisty!"
Rinoa waved at her from across the room. "Come sit with me," she invited, patting the jute floor cushion beside her.
Quistis sat down in cross-legged fashion. Angelo settled next to her with a contented whine. "So the renovations are finally completed? Matron's house really feels like home now," she marveled.
Rinoa stretched her neck to gaze pensively at the ceiling. "I would love to live in a place like this someday…"
"Will you have a flower field, Rinoa?" said Quistis, rubbing Angelo's ears.
Rinoa smiled mysteriously at her.
The young sorceress fisted her hand and then opened it. Flowers materialized dynamically from her palm. They collided, glowed, breathed, and billowed. Quistis could sense the powerful magic like a thrumming melody. There was a special quality about it that felt without beginning or end, as if it was something naturally occurring that she had stumbled upon. She venerated the way Rinoa was equally at home in the worlds of humans and sorceresses with her eternally poetic sunniness.
Zell pretzeled his legs onto the floor. "Hi, ladies. Selphie and I are trying to decide which game to play after dinner."
"What are the options?" asked Rinoa. She handed Zell a flower, which he tried unsuccessfully to lodge into his gelled hair.
"We've narrowed it down to Tag and Capture the Flag!" said Selphie.
The austere figure of Squall strolled toward them. "We're not kids anymore," he said flatly in his Commander's voice.
Selphie pouted as if he had just knocked over her ice cream cone. "Yeah, but being here is really bringing out my inner child."
"You're already a child," Zell coughed into his fist.
Selphie swatted him away; he ducked in time.
"C'mon, Squall," cajoled Rinoa. "We've all been working so hard lately! When's the next time we're gonna be able to get together like this? Don't be such a killjoy."
Squall's lip quivered as he tried to fight back a smile. Quistis thought of the last time she had seen him in his office. Today, he did not look like he was straining at the seams. Rinoa certainly had a way of being his center of gravity and crafting a calm atmosphere for her knight.
Zell pointed at Squall with a dogged glint in his eyes. "If we play Tag, you're gonna be 'it.'"
"I'll make sure of that," promised Rinoa, giggling.
"Ooh, ooh! Who's excited for fireworks!?" exclaimed Selphie.
"Oh, crap!" Zell's face fell into both of his hands. "Guys, we might need to find an alternate activity…"
"Don't worry, Zell! I brought the supplies with me." Avery had walked up to them, smiling and supporting a shallow box of colorful paper cylinders in her arms. Quistis thought she looked very much like a youthful student selling fundraiser chocolates.
Zell sighed in relief.
Selphie grinned a mile wide. "I vote for Avery as our new shooter!"
"Shooter?"
"Yeah, the person who actually sets 'em off."
Irvine joined the party and peered eagerly into the box. "Zell, my man. You went all out!" He tossed some of the tubes to Squall, who caught each one with soldierly precision. Angelo perked up and started barking wildly, thinking there was a game of catch going on.
Squall read off the labels with an increasing sense of alarm: "500 gram repeaters. Reloadable mortars. Aerial spinners…?"
Quistis couldn't help imagining a terrifying comedy of errors taking place at the beach. She cleared her throat hesitantly. "Perhaps this goes without saying, but I assume one of us knows how to properly use these fireworks?"
"Of course," said Zell. "I learned from Seif—uh, I mean someone I know!"
Irvine chuckled.
"We managed to not blow ourselves up as kids," said Selphie, waving a hand nonchalantly. "I think we'll be just fine."
Squall looked at her with faint disbelief. "I'll allow the fireworks if you'll excuse me from the games."
Rinoa laughed. "This isn't a Garden event, Mr. Responsible. And who says you get to barter?"
"As such, Garden cannot be held liable for any injuries sustained tonight," added Quistis. She caught Avery's eyes and together they fell into silent giggles.
"The barter is not accepted," said Selphie firmly. "New suggestion: Squall doesn't have to participate in games as long as he makes s'mores for the rest of us."
Squall shrugged. "I'm actually okay with that."
"Good call, Sefie. Squall's a master at s'more-making," said Irvine.
"Really?" said Rinoa curiously. "This is the first time I'm hearing about such skills."
"That mission was…interesting, for lack of a better word," admitted Squall.
"One hell of a ride!" agreed Zell. "All of our rations obliterated, except for…"
"…marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers," finished Irvine dramatically.
"Whaaa?" Selphie looked at each of the men in turn. "I want to know what happened!"
"Children!" Edea called out melodiously. "Dinner is ready."
The group scrambled to their feet at those magic words. Suddenly it felt like they were all seven- and eight-year-olds again.
Quistis took a seat next to the former Headmaster. "Hi, Cid," she greeted him politely. It still felt strange to address him by first name, but after officially retiring from Garden he had insisted on dropping all formalities.
He beamed at her. "Quistis! It's been too long…" Cid looked leaner than she remembered, but healthier. No doubt he had gained some muscle tackling many of the home improvement projects on his own.
"Much too long," she acknowledged. She passed him a plate of crab pinwheels, which he accepted gratefully. "I'm thrilled to be here today. The house looks absolutely beautiful, Cid."
They fell into light conversation about his new hobbies and her ongoing whip training.
As the dinner talk subsided to a gentle lull, Edea turned her attention to Quistis and smiled affectionately. "Quistis dear, your hair looks so lovely down." She gestured to her, bracelets chiming songfully.
The females collectively murmured in agreement.
Quistis smiled. "Thank you, though my hairstyle wasn't intentional. I haven't been able to find my barrette."
"Is that right?" said Irvine. His lip was quirked up. Quistis wondered why he looked so amused by her loss. She suspected that she might have misplaced the accessory somewhere en route to her recent mission, but she couldn't recall with certainty the last time she had it in her hands. She was so enthralled by a certain someone that it felt like she had vacated tiny pieces of her mind amid the woolgathering.
Edea turned to the rest of the gang, eyes gleaming with parental warmth. "Not just Quistis, but all of you look wonderful. Every one of my children fills me with the utmost joy!" A tiny frown marred her face. "If only Seifer and Ellone could have joined us this time…"
Quistis' thoughts strayed from the remainder of the table conversation. That woozy, undulating charm of Seifer's was distinctly his own, with a dose of disturbance every now and then for a welcome surge of tension. He was secure and unbothered. A dark, hypnotic fragrance that compelled her to lean in closer to smell him—and once she had, he had settled into her skin and left a permanent sweetness trailing behind her wherever she went.
After finishing the hors d'oeuvres, the group went down to the beach for their postprandial playtime while Cid took Angelo for a walk along the Cape of Good Hope. Quistis wasn't entirely in the mood for high-spirited games (much to Selphie's dismay) so she stayed behind to help Edea clean up.
"What's troubling you, my dear?"
Quistis paused mid-wash and hastily toweled off her hands, feeling Edea's concerned eyes upon her. The dishes would have to wait.
"Something is weighing on your mind," continued Edea in her discerning lilt.
Quistis was ready to deny it, give some unrelated excuse, say anything as long as she didn't mention his name. The gut reaction stemmed from her personality and was honed by years of military conditioning but it seemed terribly counterproductive right now. If she couldn't talk to her own mother about her feelings for Seifer, did she even have the right to expect the same kind of conversation from him? Quistis would have to let go if she wanted to move forward—whether that was pride or anxiety or something else altogether. She would just have to be honest.
"When you commented on Seifer's absence," she quavered, "I just…really missed him in that moment, Matron."
Before she could elaborate any further, Edea embraced her in a generous hug. Her familiar scent washed over Quistis in comforting nostalgia, and she hugged her mother back with equal fervor.
"I want you to see something." Edea took Quistis' hand and led her into one of the twisting stone hallways.
They came to a cozy study whose mullioned windows overlooked the sand and the water. In the corner of the room stood a charming glass étagère. Edea picked out a grasscloth frame from one of the shelves and showed the picture to Quistis.
The timeless faces of young Seifer and Quistis stared back at her. They were sitting side by side on an expansive driftwood log at the beach, their little legs dangling precariously off the edge. It seemed as if Edea had barely gotten the two to behave before snapping the photo. Seifer scowled openly at the camera and Quistis wore a haughty expression. The picture was a wistful dream of a beautiful alternate timeline, of memories forgotten but not altogether lost.
"Do you remember what happened right after I took this photo?" asked Edea gently.
Quistis shook her head no.
"Little Seifer jumped from the log and twisted his ankle! You were so upset that you burst into tears on the spot."
She automatically blushed. "I don't remember, Matron. Please tell me more about this story some time…"
Quistis took the relic from Edea's hands and gazed at it with unabashed affection. Her thoughts about Seifer had begun as small as flickering candlelight, and each moment like this stoked the fire to greater heights. The intensity of her heart was scaring her to death even as she was delighting in the way that it made her lose control.
She looked up to see Edea smiling angelically at her, and Quistis' fear was instantly stilled with all the power that a mother could invoke.
"You two may have been at each other's throats as children, but you always cared about Seifer deep inside. I'm confident that you still do."
Quistis felt like something was lodged in her throat.
Edea looked at her expectantly but patiently. Like she was able to feel everything that Quistis was feeling.
"Yes," Quistis finally confessed. "Yes, Matron, I do care about Seifer. More than I think and more than I know."
At that very moment, the fireworks burst into the night sky with a glittering shower of color as if validating her spoken words.
A new feeling blossomed within her. It was a sense of faith that she had chosen the right path, and that at its end she would surely find what she was looking for.
