Author's Note: I am incredibly thankful for all the support that I have received. Thank you for your kind and encouraging words, the follows, and the favorites. I apologize in advance for this shorter chapter, but felt it was appropriate that it ended where it did. I had some difficulty with this chapter as I felt that the characterization of Lou was not accurate. I hope this chapter (regardless of its shortness) does not disappoint.

Chapter Two:

LOUISA

Sundays the Buttered Bun was closed, which meant that I had a bit of free time to myself – a concept that somehow sounded so foreign to me. Even if I had wished to sleep in, my routine of waking up early enough so I could open up the café with Frank was etched in my mind, and so I wandered the streets that morning at a loss of what to do.

I shuffled along the streets, my pink trainers with the turquoise laces hitting the pavement as I peered into various shop windows, and pretended I actually had a place I needed to be. At some point I sat on a bench right outside one of the high end designer shops targeted at the wealthy tourists here on vacation, and observed the gentle stream of potential customers that entered and exited the store.

Eventually I headed down to the athletics club, knowing that Patrick would be there. He had been in a constant fitness craze for the past year or so – exercising from Mondays to Thursdays, but had recently upped this "craze" by exercising every spare moment that he had. Even though I didn't see the personal appeal, I supported him nevertheless.

As I neared the outdoor track I squinted my eyes, trying to figure out if any of the silhouettes on the track resembled Patrick. As I drew closer and leaned against the small metal fence that served as a border around the track I could see him, his breaths coming out in small puffs of air due to the cold weather we had recently been experiencing.

"Patrick!" I said, waving as enthusiastically as I could to get his attention.

I watched as the figure slowed down only a mere second to wave in my direction before speeding up, clearly not finished with his workout.

I thought about climbing the gate to get to him but decided against it. Instead, I took the long route and used the small gateway to enter the area before quickly walking towards the green center of the track where currently unused hurtles were being kept. I managed to perch myself on top of one, using my core as much as I could to balance and not topple over.

By the time I felt secure in my position, Patrick was running steadily towards my section of track.

"Run with me, babe!" he managed to say, his breaths coming out in short gasps. He ran in place, glancing at his watch before looking back up at me.

I was ready to decline but his insistent look made me reconsider. I tentatively made my way down back to the ground, and scrambled after him, trying my best to match his pace. Thank goodness I had worn my pink trainers, they were the only pair of shoes that were actually appropriate for running in.

"I've thought about where we should go for the holiday we were talking about," Patrick enthused. He looked at me expectantly for a reaction, and so I offered a meek "Oh?" as I huffed heavily from the increasing pace. I tried to focus on the conversation at hand, but the only thought in the forefront of my mind was that I was wearing the wrong type of bra.

"Norway," he announced, looking quite proud with himself.

I lagged a bit behind him, wanting to stop in my tracks but knowing he wouldn't appreciate me ruining his pace, "N-Norway?"

Patrick nodded heartily, "I've been thinking about doing the Xtreme Viking. Sixty miles on bike, thirty miles on foot, and a nice long swim in subzero Nordic seas." He glanced at me, and an emotion I couldn't categorize swept over his facial features before he sighed and pressed a button on his watch. He then ran in place, allowing me the opportunity to stop and bend over in an attempt to catch my breath.

His voice rung in the air as I closed my eyes and tried regain some normalcy in my breathing pattern, "Look, Lou, I've never been fitter in my life. It's time for me to do this. And after I do the triathlon, I promise we will have time to sight see and do whatever you want." A pause. "Besides the rest of the Hailsbury Triathlon Terrors are on board, they're counting on me, Lou."

That got my attention. I snapped my attention to him and managed to straighten my posture, "They're coming?"

He gave me an exasperated look, "Well of course, Lou. We all want to do the Xtreme Viking. And I thought you wouldn't mind if we had a group vacation, it'll be a nice change from all our other vacations where it's been just you and me." He brightened, "And that way you could get to really know the group."

I doubted very much that the Hailsbury Triathlon Terrors wanted to know me. I was aware of the dirty looks they gave me whenever we were at the Kings Head pub. I recognized the disapproval that was sent my way when I ordered a burger with a side of fries (and a slice of cheesecake to top it off). Nevertheless, I attempted a smile, "Well, Norway sounds like it might be fun."

"That's my girl!" Patrick said, looking quite relived, "Norway will be a blast, especially since you'll be running beside me during the race."

Another wave of sickness washed over me as I shook my head furiously, "Patrick, I'm not-"

He then started to jog away from me, blowing me a kiss, "Look babe, I love you, you know I do, but I have a personal record to break. We're all meeting at Kings Head tomorrow night to discuss the details." he shouted over his shoulder before sprinting off.

I thought about shouting after him that I wouldn't be at the pub tomorrow night (I wasn't feeling up to getting silently criticized for my food choices by the group), but instead let my shoulders slump as I made my way back home.

By the time I got home my mum was already in the kitchen preparing an early dinner. She glanced over her shoulder as I entered the kitchen, giving me a soft smile, "Hello, love. Beef stew tonight."

I waddled over to where she was, glancing over her shoulder as she stirred the contents of the pot over the stove. Steam was rising, heating my face, and the smell of onions, celery and carrots wafted towards me, making the presence of my stomach be known with a growl.

My mother smiled at me, obviously amused at my stomach's antics as I hastily moved away and began to set the table. "How's Grandad today?" I asked her as I tried to move around the cramped space. Ever since the cold air had set in, Grandad had quietly claimed his bones ached somewhat terribly. Even with an army of blankets and quilts that were collected around the house, the ache in his bones refused to cease.

The brow of my mum's furrowed as she focused on the stew, "A little bit better I think." She paused, a thought obviously striking her, "Oh, and there's two tickets on the counter over there," she said, waving her free hand behind her in a general direction, "Grandad called into the local radio station and won some kind of contest a couple of days ago. The prize arrived today in the mail, and he thought you and Treena might like them."

I picked up the two glossy tickets that were on the counter, holding them between my thumb and forefinger, as I read the large printed letters across the top: STORTFORD CASTLE TOUR 3:00PM. I flipped the tickets on the other side to see if there was an expiration date. My eyes widened as I read Monday. That was tomorrow. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I wondered if Frank would let me leave my shift a couple of hours early. I hoped it wouldn't be an issue since I had always been prompt and never late (or had taken a sick day for that matter). I made a mental note to ask him early tomorrow morning.

The prize wasn't exactly one of those glamorous ones you win on one of the larger and well known radio stations, but a tour of Stortford Castle sounded like something up my alley. I had only toured it once when I was in primary school (and that was for a class field trip). My eyes darted to the other ticket. I wondered if Treena would come with me, or if she would declare it as childish.

"Make sure to thank your Grandad," my mother chided as I exited the kitchen with the two tickets in hand. I made a quick visit to the family living room to thank Grandad with a quick peck on his check, and then bounded upstairs to find Treena.

I entered her room without knocking and was greeted with her scowling face, "Don't you ever knock? I'm trying to read." She then closed her book and let it fall to the floor before she crossed her arms.

I ignored her complaints and presented the two tickets for her to see, "Grandad won two tickets to tour Stortford Castle for tomorrow afternoon, and he thought that both of us should go."

My sister frowned and gave me a short answer, "I can't tomorrow." She must had seen my disappointment and then added before she went back to her reading, "Get Patrick to go or something."

I left her room in disappointment.

As the evening was winding down and we all sat around the table, our bellies full with my mother's good cooking, I felt content despite the disappointment I experienced earlier today. The shrill ring of our telephone awakened all of us from our bliss, and dad rose to answer it. His gruff voice rang through the kitchen as he greeted whoever was on the other side of the phone.

A pause.

"Lou, it's for you," my dad told me, gesturing to come take the phone. He looked grim, but said nothing else. I stiffly rose, stifling a yawn before taking the phone from his grasp, "Hello?"

"Hello, Louisa. It's Frank."

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable and unsure why he was calling me on the weekend, "Oh, erm, hello." A small voice in my head then reminded me to ask him if I could leave my shift a couple of hours early. I was trying to figure out how to exactly phrase that in the most polite way possible when Frank spoke again.

"I hate to do this Louisa, but my dad hasn't been doing well, and so I'm headed back to Australia."

I turned away from the expectant looks on my family's faces and tried to shuffle into the doorway to have at least one ounce of privacy. In that moment I doubted he would let me leave my shift a couple of hours early. He probably would want all hands on deck while he was gone, and since I was the only one who worked there, that meant I would be expected to be there full time. Not that it changed anything. I was at the Buttered Bun just as much as Frank was. I cleared my throat, "How long will you be gone? I'm sure I can take care of the café while you're-"

"No, Louisa. I'm closing up indefinitely. It was bound to happen anyway, the castle has been starting to serve their own refreshments."

A lump in my throat formed, and somehow the nauseous feeling I felt on the track when I was running earlier today returned.

I could hear a sigh of what sounded like defeat through the receiver, "I'm really sorry to do this. If you give me your address I can mail your paycheck through the mail with a good reference."

"R-Right," I said numbly, not really processing the fact that I was being let go. I quietly recited the home address before wishing Frank well and hanging up with a loud click. My fingers lingered on the phone for a second and in that particular moment of time, I wanted nothing more than to shrink and disappear.

Note: Feedback? Thoughts? Review? Now that the Buttered Bun is closed, what does that mean for Lou and Will? (And Lou's income too.)

Goal: Total of 35+ Reviews

I plan to update every Sunday or so. I wanted to finish this chapter by Friday but I needed a break from staring at the computer screen (sorry!). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you again for the incredible support you all have shown me. I am so thankful.

- The Painted Green Door